Most of us might remember our early years saying “here” every morning when the teacher called our name at the beginning of the school day. The attendance sheet was then submitted to the school office, logging that we had shown up.

A more poignant practice of taking attendance is the “final roll call” to honor a fallen military service member. The name of the deceased is called out three times; each time, there is no response, no one succinctly stating, “Sir, present, Sir.” Just silence.

Likewise, those of us who were ordained announced “present” when our names were called out during the ordination rite. Typically, immediately following the Gospel, a deacon requests, “Will those to be ordained please come forward.” Each ordinand’s full name is proclaimed, at which he stands and states emphatically, “present,” before presenting himself to the ordaining prelate.

The adage “90% of life is showing up” is often attributed to Woody Allen. God, though, outdoes us with 100%, hoping we might follow suit.

From Genesis to Revelation, there are countless stories of God being present to his people. From a mighty wind at the Red Sea (Ex 14:21) to the quiet whisper revealing himself to Elijah (1 Kgs 19:12- 13), he showed his chosen people, “I am here.” At the Incarnation, he became one like us in all things but sin (Heb 4:15). Jesus promised us, “where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I” (Mt 18:20) and “I am with you always, even to the end of the age” (Mt 28:20). And even beyond the end of the age: Jesus told us before his departure that he was going to prepare a place for us, assuring us that we will be gathered together in his midst (Jn 14:2-3). Finally, near the end of the Book of Revelation, John hears the one who sat on the throne say, “Behold, God’s dwelling is with the human race. He will dwell with them and they will be his people and God himself will always be with them” (Rv 21:3).

When God chose to be present among us, he did it simply, ordinarily, born into a family, living in a small town, learning the family trade from his father, hanging out with his friends. God is still quietly, subtly present. So quiet and subtle that we might be unaware of his presence. This God who chose to be present to all of us in the person of his Son is the same God who chose to come to each of us in the person of his Spirit. This is truly an omnipresent God in whose image and likeness we are made, and he implores us to be as present to one another as he is to us.

Those called forward at ordination are imposed upon, through the imposition of hands, to bring that presence of Christ to others. We who become alter Christus configure ourselves to Christ and become Christ’s representative. We serve as the human visible presence of God in Christ through that Spirit.

We are called upon, sometimes at the most inconvenient times, to anoint the sick, to bury the dead, to alter our schedules to show up at all sorts of events in the lives of our flock. In those moments, we need to remind ourselves that we are asked to be present not because of who we are, but who we have become: the alter Christus, bringing the true presence of God to God’s own people. Being and bringing that real presence of Christ is the job.

Do you ever imagine the countless stories among the faithful of how God makes himself present to each person in his or her place and time each week? Then each weekend all the faithful bring those moments with them when they gather at Mass. They are offered along with the simple staples of bread and wine to be placed on the altar of sacrifice, celebrating how we have come to know him and how he is truly present in our midst now. Then we receive Christ’s real presence in the Eucharist. And soon after that moment, we command all the people: Go forth and bring that real presence to everybody again this week.

FATHER PATRICK CARRION is pastor of five parishes in East Baltimore, Maryland, and director of the Office of Cemetery Management for the Archdiocese of Baltimore.