# The Catholic Prayer Book and Manual of Meditations/Meditations for Three Days before Communion

Meditations
FOR THREE DAYS BEFORE COMMUNION.
First Day.
The proper Dispositions for receiving Holy Communion.
First Point.—Consider seriously, that the adorable Eucharist is called by the Church, a source of death to the wicked, because this bread of life, though the source and fountain of life itself, can as little strengthen those who are spiritually dead in mortal sin, as food could strengthen a dead body. Such ​souls, far from participating in the divine treasures contained in the Holy Eucharist, defile themselves with the guilt of the most horrible of all sacrileges; they insult the Almighty himself — attack and profane the adorable humanity of Jesus Christ — they trample on the blood of the new covenant — and to crown all their misfortunes, they, as the Apostle says, eat awl drink their own damnation. Ponder well the import of those awful words: consider, that like the Jews, who consented that the blood of Jesus should fall on them to their destruction, unworthy communicants ratify themselves the sentence of their condemnation — a sentence which they, as it were, write on their own hearts — a sentence, which begins to be in some measure executed, even in this life, for the justice of God often abandons the profaners of his adorable body to such obduracy and insensibility, that they at length sink into a species of spiritual lethargy: after having braved the greatest of all dangers, they seem to fear no other, and they thoughtlessly run on from sin to sin, until at length the time for repentance and mercy is over. Trace these dreadful evils to their source, and you will find them all to originate in mortal sin, that sovereign evil, without which there would be no evil; — that great and only obstacle to the designs of Jesus in the institution of the adorable Eucharist — that fatal source of the sacrileges which have ever been committed against the most holy of all mysteries. Endeavour to conceive a lively horror of mortal sin — a sincere conviction that it is the greatest of all evils, the most dreadful of all misfortunes. If your heart be deeply impressed with these sentiments, they will prove your greatest security against incurring the guilt of sacrilege. Divine Jesus! penetrate my heart ​with so great a horror of sin, that I may dread nothing so much as becoming thy enemy by any mortal offence, and that I may tremble at the very idea 6f profaning thy most sacred body and blood.
Second point.— Consider, secondly, that, next to the misfortune of unworthily communicating, there can be few states more dangerous, than that of persons who approach the adorable Eucharist with wilful tepidity, negligence, and indevotion. For this there are three solid reasons, which you should seriously consider. First, such Communicants are deprived by their own faults of almost all the graces annexed to the Holy Eucharist, and thus run an evident risk of drawing little if any profit from Communion. — Secondly, they contract a fatal habit of approaching the sacrament of infinite love in a careless and lukewarm manner, and are thereby in imminent danger of soon committing sacrilege. — Thirdly, nothing is more common than illusion on this important matter; for many, whose tepid and negligent dispositions appear to themselves nothing worse than venial sin, are really guilty, in the eyes of God, of that criminal indolence and sloth which is a grievous offence. In the same manner as sacrilegious Communions proceed from a want of sufficient horror of mortal sin: so are fruitless, tepid Communions, caused by the little care which Christians take to avoid venial sin. Instead of looking on a deliberate, though slight offence of God, as a real evil, and a great misfortune, they commit faults without number or remorse. Though they do not abandon at once the holy habit of approaching regularly the sacrament of our altars, yet they appear as careless about the correction of their faults, as if they never were to communicate; they discharge their spiritual duties carelessly and ​continue heaping one fault on another, until they lose all remorse for what they term only slight faults. Such persons evince their habitual sloth, dissipation, and tepidity, in preparing for Communion. A confession, which they intend should include all mortal sin, and a few vocal prayers, comprise the whole of their preparation for the most solemn of all duties. The God of all sanctity is then introduced into a soul defiled with innumerable stains. The God of infinite love enters a heart, which, as he himself declares, he rejects and abominates, because it is tepid, and neither hot nor cold. Such Communions, as may be expected, are fruitless, or rather they are too often fruitful in great evils, and are almost a certain road to sacrilege. O how much should they be dreaded!
Third point. — Consider, thirdly, that if an unworthy Communion is the most dreadful of all misfortunes, and a tepid or negligent Communion the greatest of all dangers; so also is a worthy Communion the most precious and glorious advantage that a creature can enjoy. Next to the clear view and full possession of God in heaven, there can be no happiness so great as that of communicating. If our faith were lively, we should be so convinced of this truth, that the prospect of a Communion would fill us with transports of joy: we would long for the happy day which was to unite us to Jesus Christ, and be so completely occupied with the expectation of such a blessing, as to become almost insensible to all other enjoyments. To produce those sentiments in your heart, you need but reflect on a few of the advantages of a good Communion. Consider that this most holy Sacrament increases and preserves grace, which is the life of the soul; it enlightens the mind ​with the brightest light; inflames the heart with the sacred fire of charity; it points out and makes us love our duties; it strengthens us to fulfil them; it moderates the violence of passion, and it penetrates the soul with such sweet and holy peace, as must be felt to be understood. To say all in one word, a worthy Communion unites us so intimately to God, and procures for us such an abundant infusion of his gifts and graces, as caused a father of the Church to say, that “ a single Communion would suffice to make a saint.” Consider these truths seriously. Reflect with holy transport on the glory and happiness within your reach. Convinced of the infinite excellence of the adorable Sacrament which you are preparing to receive, banish all other cares, that you may devoutly dispose yourself for that wonderful union with God, which was never granted to angels. But as this work is far beyond your power, beg earnestly of that God of love, whom you are about to receive, to give you such ardent desires of enjoying the happiness of worthy Communion, as will urge you to remove every obstacle to so great a blessing. O my good God! if I really felt how delightful it is to be united to thee, how soon would I despise every other pleasure, and sigh after thee alone, for whom alone I was created. Thou knowest that I desire at least to receive thee worthily; deign then to penetrate my soul with respect and love, that I may so fervently prepare for thy heavenly visit, as never to find death in the fountain of life.
Second Day.
The Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ applied to the Holy Communion.
First point. — Consider, first, that when Jesus Christ ​instituted at his last Supper the adorable Sacrament of his Body and Blood, he commanded his Apostles, and in their persons all creatures, to call to mind his Passion and Death as often as they communicated. Such a command ought not to have been necessary: — gratitude for the benefit of redemption — love for the God who died for us — compassion for his excessive sufferings — contrition for the share we had in occasioning them, are all motives which should make the sufferings of Christ a subject familiar to our thoughts, and impress on the mind and heart of every Christian a lively image of Jesus crucified. But our divine Redeemer well knew the frailty and ingratitude of man; he knew, that the greater number would seldom, if ever, call to mind his sufferings, and therefore he left them not only a precious and striking memorial of his Passion in the Holy Eucharist, but also a command to think on him, on his infinite love and suffering, in receiving his adorable body. Do this in remembrance of me. (Luke xxii. 19.) Endeavour now to comply most fervently with this command of your divine Redeemer. Place yourself in spirit at the foot of the cross, and consider how much it cost your Redeemer to purchase for you the happiness of communicating. Far from being admitted to the honour and advantage of sacramental union with God, you would have been condemned to eternal separation from him, if Jesus had not died to save you. Your approaching happiness is then the purchase of your Redeemer’s sufferings — the adorable body you are going to receive as your spiritual food, is the same which was exposed to insult, contempt, and misery, during three-and-thirty years; scourged at a pillar, crowned with thorns, and at length ignominiously nailed to the cross. Ah ! if those excessive torments ​had made a deep impression on our hearts, how differently should we feel disposed in approaching that adorable sacrament, wherein the memory of his passion is renewed! Beg of Jesus himself, with the greatest earnestness, to give you the dispositions he requires. O my crucified Saviour! thou didst suffer such torments for my salvation, as would separately have caused thy death, if a miracle did not preserve thy life to endure still more. Why have I been so ungrateful as to forget all thou hast done for my sinful soul? Vouchsafe, O divine Jesus! to enter my heart, notwithstanding its unworthiness; that I may not only learn to die to myself, by reflecting on thy sufferings, but also live to thee, by the efficacy of thy adorable body.
Second point. — Consider the divine Saviour prostrate on the earth, in the Garden of Gethsemani, fainting with grief, and exhausted with a bloody sweat, occasioned by excessive interior anguish, at the view of the sins of all mankind; particularly the ingratitude of those who are loaded with his mercies — the pride and vanity of those who are early instructed in the divine truths of his holy gospel — the tepidity, sloth, and indifference of those from whom he has a right to expect the most ardent love; — in a word, the foresight he had of the abuse of his graces, and the little fruit that many, even among his most favoured servants, would draw from his sacred passion and death. This was truly the chalice which Jesus dreaded to drink, and which made his sacred heart sorrowful even unto death, as we may easily conceive by our own experience, since we feel that an unkind, ungrateful action of a friend, would grieve us more than many injuries heaped on us by an enemy. Consider now* that among all the benefits Jesus Christ ​bestowed on the world, none is so precious, or so peculiarly the fruit of his sacred passion, as the Holy Eucharist; consequently, those who draw little or no profit from that fountain of grace, and who feel little love, gratitude, and respect for so astonishing a mark of God’s tenderness, are certainly those who should reproach themselves with having contributed most to the interior sufferings of Jesus Christ. Reflect seriously on yourself, and beg of God to enlighten your mind, that you may see whether you be not of this number. You cannot doubt of your being among those whom he has most loved and favoured; — early instruction, particular graces, spiritual assistance, and a thousand other marks of his tenderness, prove to you that Jesus thought of you in the height of his sufferings, and destined for you a particular share in the fruits and merits of his sacred passion. What use have you made of those special blessings? Have you been more grateful, from having been more favoured? Has the knowledge of your duty caused you to discharge it better? What profit have you drawn from your Communions? Where are the faults you have corrected, or the virtues you have acquired, after so many times receiving the Almighty himself? Ask your own conscience these questions; it is better you should do so now, than defer so necessary an examination to that tribunal of justice where we must all appear, to account for that precious blood, which our sins and his infinite love caused Jesus to shed in the course of his sacred Passion.
Third point. — Consider, seriously, that after Jesus had been in agony three hours; after he had proved the efficacy of his sacred Blood, by the wonderful conversion of a great criminal, and expressed his ardent thirst for the conversion of all men, he expired. ​Then the earth shook to its centre; from which you should learn how much cause sinners have to dread the rigorous justice of God, who did not spare his only begotten Son. The rocks were rent, to show you that your heart should be broken with sorrow at the recollection of your Redeemer’s sufferings, even though it were as cold and as hard as marble. The opening of the sepulchres, and resurrection of the dead, admonish you, that if you would participate in the fruit of our Redeemer’s Passion and Death by a worthy Communion, you must open the sepulchre of your conscience, and cast out all the dead works of iniquity by a candid and contrite confession. Reflect particularly, that the sepulchre in which Jesus would have his most precious body laid, was new, no person having been laid there before (St. John xix.); therefore the soul which prepares to become the repository of the same precious body, should be renovated by contrition, and a firm resolution of leading a new life, and banish all that could disturb the reign of Jesus Christ in her heart. Are these your dispositions V Have the foregoing reflections animated you to renounce all such vain pleasures as may unfortunately lead you to crucify again the Son of God? This is the moment to form those salutary resolutions, if you have hitherto neglected doing so. Penetrated with that holy fear of the judgments of God, and that firm confidence in his mercy, which the sufferings of Christ should naturally inspire, examine your heart at the foot of the cross, and see all that so great an example demands from you. Do not the excessive torments of Jesus reproach you with immortification and self-seeking? Does not the hard bed of the cross condemn your attachment to your own ease, and your horror of the least inconvenience? Can ​you reflect on such divine patience, meekness, and charity, without detesting your fretful, uncharitable conduct towards your fellow-creatures, your irritable and untractable temper? The silence of Jesus is a miracle of meekness: have you imitated it when undeservedly or even justly reproved? The first words of our divine Redeemer on the cross, are a prayer for his executioners: is it thus you return good for evil; or rather, are you not perhaps actually criminal in the eyes of God, by anger, contempt, coolness, or want of charity towards your neighbour? Such is the examination you should make at the foot of the cross; for certain it is that your crucified Lord is the model on which you will finally be judged. The day will come when a crucifix for the last time will be presented to you. To those who have endeavoured to avoid sin, which crucified their Lord, and to imitate the virtues which the cross teaches, the sight of that affecting object, in the last awful ceremony, will be a source of the greatest consolation and confidence. To some, it cannot be otherwise than an anticipated condemnation, it is in your power now to choose either: perhaps on the resolutions which you make in this very meditation, and the fruits of amendment you draw from it, depends your eternal salvation. Resolve, then, generously to make a friend of Him, who will one day be your judge, and henceforward never to look on a crucifix without thinking of your obligation to imitate the virtues of your crucified Lord. O my merciful Redeemer! prostrate in spirit at the foot of thy cross, I thank thee for all thou hast done and suffered for my salvation. I beg of thee, by the efficacy of thy precious blood, to soften the obduracy of my heart, and strengthen my will, that I may faithfully do all that thou requirest.
Third Day.
On the chief Virtues which should adorn a Communicant.
First point. — Consider that the Holy Eucharist is called a mystery of faith, and that faith is perhaps the most necessary virtue for a good Communion; because, without faith, we should discover nothing more than ordinary food in the bread of life. In this sacred mystery all is obscure, beyond the reach of our understanding, and imperceptible to our senses: we see nothing, feel nothing, taste nothing but common bread; we hear nothing extraordinary; so that it is the voice and light of faith alone, which, as the Church says, supplies the defeat of the senses, and firmly persuades us that the adorable Eucharist is not bread, though it appears so to us, but the living, .glorious, immortal body of Jesus Christ. Ah ! how grateful should you be for that precious gift of faith, by which you are enabled to penetrate the veils that conceal the Almighty from our view l With what astonishment and delight should you be penetrated, now that faith assures you that your God, your Creator, will so soon be your guest! With what profound humility, reverence, and awe should you await the visit of that divine Being who drew the world out of nothing by his infinite power, who rules it by his wisdom, and who could, in an instant, destroy it by one act of his will! He it is, whom l am going to receive: yes, I firmly believe it, because Jesus Christ, the infallible truth, has said, This is my body. But has my faith all the requisites for enabling me to make a good and fervent Communion? Beside being firm, is it lively, active, supported by good works; or rather, does it bear any resemblance to that fruitless and dead faith, of which the Apostle ​speaks — to the faith of many nominal Christians, whose belief and conduct are in direct opposition? O Lord! from thee I received my faith, even before I was capable of feeling the value of that precious gift: to thee I must now owe its increase: give it, 1 beseech thee, all the strength and efficacy thou requirest.
Second point. — Consider that there is no sacrament so calculated to excite most tender and unbounded confidence in God as the Holy Eucharist. It is the precious pledge of eternal life; the greatest of God’s gifts; therefore He, who is bountiful enough to give such a blessing, cannot refuse any favour, since all others are less than that which is offered to us in one Communion. O consolatory thought! O solid foundation for hope and confidence ! To-morrow I shall receive my God; to-morrow that compassionate Saviour will visit me, whose mortal life was a series of mercies — who never ref used to pardon a repentant sinner — who received all who approached his sacred person — who deigned, with his own divine hands, to touch and heal the lepers themselves, and to whom no one was ever known to apply in vain. He is more anxious to grant me favours, than I could be to receive them. Ah ! if the poor of this world could become rich, by only relying with confidence on the liberality of a powerful benefactor — if the sick had a certainty of receiving health, by resigning themselves to the care of a physician — if the afflicted could be consoled by confiding in a friend, who would be found indigent, weak, or dejected, throughout the world? But the liberality or kindness of creatures is always limited and insufficient, whereas that of the Almighty has no bounds, except those limits which we ourselves too often put to it by distrust. ​He will have mercy on us according to our hope in him, as the prophet says. O my God! how true it is, that the man is blessed who hopes in thee; since that soul cannot want any thing, who confidently expects all from thee. O! since I am going to receive the greatest gift thou canst bestow, why should I not firmly trust that thou wilt strengthen my weakness, inflame my insensibility, and give me, by this Communion, the grace to do all that is necessary for obtaining the effect of thy promises, since hope without good works is no better than presumption? Yes, my God, I hope for all this, and hoping in thee, I can never be confounded.
Third point. — Consider why did Jesus Christ resolve to remain on our altars to the end of time, in a state of degradation and obscurity? Because he loves you too much, to leave you an orphan. Why does he conceal his adorable majesty, his divinity, and even his humanity, in this sacrament? It is, as St. Bernard says, “that the excess of his love alone may appear, and that the splendour of his glory may not deter you from approaching him with confidence.” Why will this divine victim of love descend from heaven to-morrow, and renew the oblation of himself on our altars? To give you in his precious body and blood the most amazing proof of his tenderness, and to afford you by his actual presence a favourable opportunity of asking and receiving whatever you 7 desire, that your joy may be complete. All this is so certain, that you may truly say with the Apostle, He has loved me and delivered himself for me. Were I alone to be redeemed, he would have died for my sake; and were 1 alone to communicate, he would descend from heaven to become my nourishment.
O infinite love ! O mystery of charity ! how little art ​thou understood by those who are the objects of thy tenderness! how little impression has the infinite love of God made on the hearts of his creatures ! Consider seriously, whether you be not amongst the number. Are you not perhaps at this moment unmoved by the love Jesus manifests in choosing you to become his temple? Search into the cause of your insensibility; is it not your neglect of that serious meditation on the benefits of God, in which, as the Prophet says, the fire of charity is enkindled? Are not your affections, which should belong to God, thrown away on creatures, which are the work of his hands? If so, it is not surprising that you are a stranger to that ardent love which animated the Saints, and enabled them to do so much for the divine honour. Beg of that God of love Who came to cast fire upon the earth, to give you that sincere, generous, ardent love, which you cannot have without his assistance. O adorable Benefactor of my soul! I now feel that I was made to love thee, and that my heart can never find true Test but in thee. “ O eternal beauty! too late have I known thee. O infinite goodness! too late have I loved thee.” Ah ! my good God! thou didst form my heart, thou alone canst inflame its affections. I beg of thee, by all the love thou hast ever felt for man; and in particular, by that infinite charity which invites me to approach thy altars, that thou wouldst give me, as the fruit of this meditation, the most lively and ardent charity. I resolve most seriously, to endeavour on my part to obtain that most precious gift, by making henceforward frequent acts of thy love — by performing all my actions through a motive of love — by detesting and avoiding, for thy love, all that displeases thee. Give efficacy, O Lord! to these resolutions, for on ​thee alone I depend; thou art the God in whom I firmly believe; thou art the foundation of my hope, and the only worthy object of my love.