I grew up in a Protestant church with an empty cross in its sanctuary. It was polished and clean, made of burnished brass. Whenever I entered a Catholic church, I couldn’t quite get over the visual of Jesus hanging on a cross. Catholics contend a crucifix is a reminder of Jesus’ suffering and death for our sins. Paul writes in the opening chapter of 1st Corinthians that we preach Christ crucified. Protestants counter that an empty cross depicts Jesus’ resurrection. Paul devotes an entire chapter later in this same Corinthian letter to the significance of Christ rising from the dead. So, who is right? Both, I’d say. Jesus died on a cross yet conquered the grave.
The following prayer referencing Christ’s sacrifice on the cross is part of the communion liturgy in both Catholic and Anglican churches. I’ll be honest–there are aspects of the prayer I like and parts I don’t like. First, the part I don’t like. The repeated references to Jesus’ sacrifice at the beginning of the prayer strike me as excessive, “Blood of Christ, inebriate me. Water from the side of Christ, wash me…Within Thy wounds hide me.” Must we be so graphic? I associate “inebriate” with people “under the influence,” yet I’ve come to find out the medieval understanding of the word means to enliven. Now, I get it. I’m asking the risen Christ who went to the cross on my behalf to enliven me to faithful living. The part of the prayer I like are the final series of petitions, “Suffer me not to be separated from Thee. From the malignant enemy save me. In the hour of my death call me and bid me come unto thee.” When I come to the hour of my departure, I know in my bones I won’t have a leg to stand on, apart from grace. Jesus will call me to come to him out of the sheer extravagance of God’s abundant mercy.
Today’s prayer derives its name from the opening words in the Latin, Anima Christi which translate “Soul of Christ.” Soul in its original meaning equates to Spirit. We invite the Spirit of Christ to cleanse us so we can be used in God’s redemptive purposes. Ignatius of Loyola referenced this prayer often in his sixteenth century writings, leading some to attribute authorship to him yet there are citations to the prayer from a century and a half earlier in fourteenth century manuscripts. I draw strength from uniting with believers through the centuries in praying this time-honored prayer. It’s a vivid reminder that we belong to “the communion of the saints.”