“Today, you will be with me in Paradise”

Christ risen from the dead with the Good Thief about to enter Paradise, showing the cross to the flaming cherubim guarding the gates, as his “admission ticket.”


“Today, you will be with me in paradise.” If we approach the chalice with the self-examination, the reorientation of our lives, the words of the thief—Remember me in your kingdom—Christ makes the same promise to us: Today you will be with me in paradise. Today you will begin to live forever.

What does that even mean, that we will be “with him in paradise,” that we “will live forever?” We sometimes think that eternal life is just like the life we know now… but rather than walking around on earth for some finite period, we will be walking around paradise for “an eternity,” that time will simply be stretched out and stretched out and simply go on much like it does now on earth but without ever having an end in sight.

But eternity—the “forever” of the Kingdom of God—is not simply a very long time that simply never stops. “Eternity” and “eternal life” is simply always NOW. There is no time—not long, not short, not never-ending—just NOW and its quality is as different from what we currently experience as life in the womb differs from life after we are born. It’s impossible for us to understand what eternity and paradise are like just as it is impossible for a baby in the womb to know what to expect when it emerges out into the world.

Corpus Christi 2023, part 2

One of things that scared those who denied Christ’s presence in the Eucharist was that if true—if Christ is really and truly present somehow in the Eucharistic bread and wine—then how could anyone dare to receive it? How could anyone of us dare to stretch out their hands or open their mouths unless they were as pure as the angels themselves?

Taking St. Paul’s admonition seriously, without discerning the body—without adequate self-examination and preparation to receive the Eucharist—a person would be eating and drinking judgement on themselves. And the people who denied that Christ is present in the Eucharist weren’t wrong to be frightened. It is an awesome thing to dare to reach out and touch—much less, consume!—the bread of the Eucharist if it truly is Corpus Christi, the Body of Christ.

But St. Paul didn’t say the Corinthians had to be pure or sinless. He said they had to be worthy. Worthiness is a very different thing. To be worthy to touch, to be worthy to consume the Body of Christ does not mean to be sinless. As several English theologians in the 1600s and 1700s pointed out, to be worthy is to be committed to self-examination, committed to repentance, committed to always turning around, changing direction, re-orienting myself towards Christ.

So I must always prepare to approach the Table by examining myself, reviewing what I have done and who I have been during the time since I last approached the Holy Table. Examine myself, measure myself against our standard—which is Christ—and determine how I might, in perhaps some single small way, turn my back on that person that I do not want to be and take some small step closer to being the person I was made to be in Christ.

To be worthy of receiving Holy Communion, to dare to touch the Corpus Christi, I must be committed to self-examination and repentance. One of those English theologians, Simon Patrick[1] in 1660, suggested using a phrase from the Gospel that Greek and Russian Christians use as they approach the chalice: “Lord, remember me when you come in your kingdom.”

The thief crucified with Christ acknowledged Jesus as Lord and reoriented his life—turning his back on his image of himself as a victim who was owed whatever he could take from other people—and he asked Jesus to make a place for him in the Kingdom. What was Jesus’ answer? “Today, you will be with me in paradise.” If we approach the chalice with the self-examination, the reorientation of our lives, the words of the thief—Remember me in your kingdom—Christ makes the same promise to us: Today you will be with me in paradise. Today you will begin to live forever.


[1] Bishop of Ely, Mensa Mystica, or a Discourse concerning the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper. (Prayer Book Spirituality, p. 283)

Corpus Christi = Triumph of Orthodoxy

Twice the Christian Church has been overwhelmed by controversy about whether God can be present in or act through material things.

The first time was in the Christian East, when the iconoclasts insisted that icons should be destroyed, not merely not venerated. You can read about all the dates and details in a book. The important thing to know is that the iconoclasts systematically leveled churches that were adorned with icons and dissolved monasteries, confiscating monastic property because the monks led the resistance against the iconoclastic efforts to wipe out icons. Finally, in AD 843, the icons were restored to the great cathedral of Hagia Sophia in Constantinople and a massive procession was held. People carried icons large and small through the streets of the imperial capital to celebrate the vindication of the icons, the triumph of Orthodoxy as it is still referred to, and every year on the first Sunday of Lent—the anniversary of that massive procession—each parish of the Greek and Russian Churches celebrates the Triumph of Orthodoxy again, processing with icons at least around the aisles of the church if not through the streets of the city.

The second time the Christian Church was torn apart by the controversy about whether God can be present in or at through material things was in the Christian West. You can read about the details of these Eucharistic controversies in books as well; the important thing being that these continued on and off for nearly 400 years. The Western Church was torn by riots between those who did vs. those who did not believe that Christ is truly present in the Eucharist. It was not until AD 1215 that the question was settled that yes, indeed, Christ IS truly present in the Eucharist and in 1246 a nun, Juliana, organized a procession with the Blessed Sacrament through the streets of a city in Belgium to celebrate Christ’s presence in the Eucharistic bread.

In both cases—the iconoclastic controversy in the East and the eucharistic controversy in the West—the dispute was about whether God can be truly present in material objects and whether it is appropriate to offer incense, prayers, and proskynesis (prostrations and genuflections). In both cases, the Church acknowledged that God can be present in material things because God himself was made flesh in the womb of the great Mother of God, Mary most holy and—in both cases—that incense, prayers, and genuflections are appropriate recognition of the presence of God. And in both cases people began to hold processions through the streets with the material objects that were at the heart of the controversies… icons in the east, the Eucharist in the west.

We hold processions through the streets with icons or the Eucharist to celebrate God’s blessing on the world in general and on our neighborhood in particular. We acclaim the Eucharist and offer our worship—music, incense, singing, kneeling and genuflecting—to recognize and celebrate God’s presence with us. God is with us and what else can we do but sing like the angels and bow down with our faces to the ground?

We should-we must carry the Eucharist in procession to celebrate that God is with us. Even here. Even now. But we should-we must examine ourselves, turning ever more completely toward the God who gives himself for us. Even here. Even now. And we should-we must forgive and embrace the neighbor that we find beside us—whether we like them or not—if we hope to experience the NOW of eternity as abundant, inexpressible joy. Even here. Even now.

My most popular post was also about Corpus Christi—almost 1,000 people viewed it on the day it was published! Read it here.