O’Connor once found herself speaking about the meaning of the Holy Eucharist with people who had a rather condescending attitude toward her Catholic faith (this was in New York City, not in the South) and who spoke of the Eucharist as “a beautiful symbol.” O’Connor’s response was that if the Eucharist is a symbol, it’s worthless.

When we seek to talk about mystery, it is easy for language itself to break down. One can, in fact, correctly speak of the Eucharist as a symbol, in the sense that a symbol is more than what it appears to be. But we know what O’Connor was getting at in rejecting this description of the Eucharist -- for “symbol” can also carry the meaning of “token” -- a hint of something, but not the real article. She was affirming that the Son of God who took on our fleshly existence likewise enfleshes himself in the sacraments and especially in the Holy Eucharist. This sacrament is not merely the fancy of the over-romantic. It is real.

In “A Good Man Is Hard to Find,” O’Connor places on the lips of a thoroughly repulsive character, The Misfit, a startling expression of the dilemma of faith (and yes, she did spell these words “thown” and “thow”).

“Jesus was the only One that ever raised the dead, and He shouldn’t have done it. He thown everything off balance. If He did what He said, then it’s nothing for you to do but thow away everything and follow Him, and if He didn’t, then it’s nothing for you to do but enjoy the few minutes you got left the best way you can -- by killing somebody or burning down his house or doing some other meanness to him. No pleasure but meanness.”

For such lines as these, O’Connor gained a reputation for being a writer of the “bizarre” or “grotesque.” She made no apology: “As long as these works have vitality, as long as they present something that is alive, however eccentric its life may seem to the general reader, then they have to be dealt with; and they have to be dealt with on their own terms.” In such terms did O’Connor explore the implications of the human tragedy and God’s entry into our brokenness.

I recommend the Library of America’s Collected Works of O’Connor (her discussion of the Eucharist is on pages 976-977) as giving the reader the most convenient access to the bulk of her work. This volume includes 300 pages of her letters, which reveal a grounded, inquiring faith, an incisive intellect, and an utterly wicked sense of humor.