Father Richard writes of the sacramental nature of bread and wine in the Eucharist.
When Jesus spoke the words “This is my Body,” I believe he was speaking not just about the bread right in front of him, but about the whole universe, about every thing that is physical, material, and yet also spirit-filled.
Seeing the Eucharist as a miracle is not really the message at all. I can see why we celebrate it so often. This message is such a shock to the psyche, such a challenge to our pride and individualism, that it takes a lifetime of practice and much vulnerability for it to sink in—as the pattern of every thing, and not just this thing.
The bread and the wine together are stand-ins for the very elements of the universe, which also enjoy and communicate the incarnate presence. Why have we resisted this message so much? Authentically eucharistic churches should have been the first to recognize the corporate, universal, and physical nature of the “Christification” of matter. While Catholics rightly affirm the Real Presence of Jesus in these physical elements of the earth, most do not realize the implications of what they have affirmed. The bread and wine are largely understood as an exclusive presence, when in fact their full function is to communicate a truly inclusive—and always shocking—presence.
A true believer is eating what he or she is afraid to see and afraid to accept: The universe is the Body of God, both in its essence and in its suffering.
The Eucharist is an encounter of the heart when we recognize Christ’s Presence through our own offered presence. In the Eucharist, we move beyond mere words or rational thought and go to that place where we don’t talk about the Mystery anymore; we begin to chew on it. Jesus did not say, “Think about this” or “Stare at this” or even “Worship this.” Instead, he said, “Eat this!”
We must move our knowing to the bodily, cellular, participative, and thus unitive level. We must keep eating and drinking the Mystery, until one day it dawns on us, in an undefended moment, “My God, I really am what I eat! I also am the Body of Christ.” Then we can henceforth trust and allow what has been true since the first moment of our existence. The Eucharist should jolt us into awareness that we have dignity and power flowing through us in our bare and naked existence—and everybody else does too, even though most do not know it. A body awareness of this sort is enough to steer and empower our entire faith life.
This is why I must hold to the orthodox belief that there is Real Presence in the bread and wine. For me, if we sacrifice Reality in the basic and universal elements, we end up sacrificing the same Reality in ourselves.
Reference:
Adapted from Richard Rohr, The Universal Christ: How a Forgotten Reality Can Change Everything We See, Hope For, and Believe (Convergent, 2019, 2021), 132, 134, 136, 137.
Graham Mansfield, untitled (detail), 2021, photo, Unsplash. Click here to enlarge image. Just as bread, wine, and water reveal grace in sacrament, so too the natural world invites us to be relaxed enough to receive the abundance already present—where even a quiet day without fish becomes its own communion.
Story from Our Community:
For almost two years, I’ve been using a paper diary to keep a gratitude journal. Recently, I began to question my own practice and changed the wording of my journal entries to “Thank you for” rather than “I’m grateful for.” Today as I completed my journal, I was struck by the connection with the Eucharist. The Eucharistic prayer is meant to be our thanksgiving for our communion with God and each other. My prayers of thanks connect with that communal thanksgiving.
—Helen C.
