Expectant moms often speak to their babies before they’re born: “Love you! Can’t wait to see you!” They ask God to take care of them: “Father, protect this child. Keep me secure and healthy.” We may presume that Mary, as a lady of religion and love, did this, too. In lots of other ways, as well, she probably looked like an bizarre pregnant young woman, going about her each day chores and activities. In fact, although she looks bizarre, we all know she is extraordinary. She is the mother of God. In her womb, for the primary time in history, God becomes human. She carries him quietly and powerfully. She is a living tabernacle.
Mary reminds us that we, too, carry Christ inside us after receiving Communion, as living tabernacles. She helps us to see anew the meaning and purpose of the tabernacle every time we’re at Mass, holding inside it the Eucharist, the body of Christ.
The Catholic practice of getting a tabernacle is rooted in Jewish tradition. God instructs Moses within the Book of Exodus to construct a tabernacle; it’s to be a box fabricated from acacia wood, covered in gold, with a golden angel on either end (Ex 25). This ark, or tabernacle, will hold the covenant, the stone tablets given to Moses on Mount Sinai. Further, God instructs his people to creat a big tent that may encircle the ark; they’re to collect on this area for prayer and worship. In a way, there are three tabernacles in a single: God dwells within the central ark, with Moses within the tent, and the people gathered in the encircling space.
The people use this worship area every sabbath. Afterward, the Jewish people fold it up and produce it with them on their 40-year journey. Each week, they unfold it again and arrange a form of mobile worship site. The ark is likewise constructed for a journey, because it hangs from 4 golden rings affixed to 2 long wood poles, carried on the shoulders of several travelers.
Based on some traditions, the ark also included pieces of manna, the bread from heaven given by God to sustain his people throughout the Exodus. There within the Holy of Holies, God guarantees to dwell with them on their long and dangerous trek through the desert to the promised land. Later in Jerusalem, under the rule of Kings Saul and David and Solomon, a everlasting tabernacle is erected in the nice Temple. Within the church, we see our practice of keeping the Eucharist as a success of the Temple—holding Jesus, the living bread inside.
There may be a healthy tension in these traditions. The Jewish people understood that God reigns over the entire world. Yet he was especially present within the tabernacle tent and much more within the ark. After Moses speaks with God, the skin on his face glows. The people find this so unnerving that they ask him to put a veil over his face—in order that Moses stays “tented” throughout the day. Catholics agree that God is infinite, and thus in every single place. Yet God is really present within the person of Jesus, “God with us.” And Jesus gives us the Eucharist as an abiding real presence of his body and blood.
One title of Mary in various Catholic litanies is Ark of the Covenant, connecting her with the Exodus tabernacle.
Mary is a bridge amongst these several types of tabernacle. She helps us to bring the presence of God into our each day lives. For nine months, she carried the living God inside her, because the child Jesus grew in her womb. One title of Mary in various Catholic litanies is Ark of the Covenant, connecting her with the Exodus tabernacle. She travels with us on our Advent journey, carrying Jesus inside her whilst we await his final coming.
The eucharistic tabernacle is likewise a gathering place between God and humanity. After I was teaching highschool, I’d bring the boys to the varsity chapel during class in Advent and Lent. I asked them to take time in quiet for prayer, journaling or making an examen. The chapel was a spot of prayer, centered on Christ. Also, from the tabernacle I even have distributed the Eucharist to the sick and elderly who aren’t capable of attend Mass. God goes out to fulfill his people through the Eucharist.
The eucharistic tabernacle is likewise a gathering place between God and humanity.
We, too, reside tabernacles. At every Mass, the eucharistic minister says, “the body of Christ,” and we reply, “Amen,” “Yes, I feel”; after which I receive the host. I carry the living God inside me. I really like to distribute Communion at Mass. I see little toothy smiles stuffed with hope and excitement. I see old faces, marked with age and pain, yet with an ageless trust. I see the eyes of young parents, drained and loving.
Within the Spiritual Exercises, St. Ignatius invites retreatants to ponder how “God dwells also in myself, giving me existence, life, sensation, and intelligence; and even further, making me his temple, since I’m created as a likeness and image of the Divine Majesty” (No. 235).
I’m his tabernacle. So are you. The Incarnation continues within the church, the body of Christ. The incarnate God dwells in me and in you. This Advent, we honor Mother Mary for her great yes to God’s grand invitation to bear Christ inside her. We glance to the manger with wonder and awe because the infinite God becomes a tiny child for us. We love Christ within the Eucharist, present in every tabernacle in every Catholic church on the planet. And we glance to our own hearts, where God has chosen to dwell, “making me his temple.”
