Truly, I Say to You

"O sacrament of devotion! O sign of unity! O bond of charity!" – St. Augustine

The Eucharist. It’s prevalent; it’s there, every day. It’s the appearance of common foodstuffs—bread and wine. It’s so easy to take it for granted. And yet, it’s the most radical belief of the faith—the living Christ, resurrected and ascended, is still present on earth, today, now, in multiple places all at once. It defies common understanding (that’s why it’s called a mystery). In fact, many Christians, even Catholics, reject it, saying that the elements of communion are merely a symbol. A symbol is easier to understand. But the Church has always held that there is something more going on. As Flannery O’Connor said, “If it’s just a symbol, then to hell with it.”

The catechism call the Eucharist is "the source and summit of the Christian life” (CCC 1324). In fact, it goes on: “The other sacraments, and indeed all ecclesiastical ministries and works of the apostolate, are bound up with the Eucharist and are oriented toward it. For in the blessed Eucharist is contained the whole spiritual good of the Church, namely Christ himself.”

Now, the Eucharist is not just a symbol, but there is a lot of symbolism. In the old testament, bread and wine were offered among the offering of the first fruits; the first and best of the harvest were given to God in gratitude for creation. When the Israelites escaped Egypt, they ate unleavened bread, and then they continued to remember this liberation with the Passover meal, which includes unleavened bread and wine, the cup of blessing representing the hope of rebuilding Jerusalem. As they journeyed through the desert, God provided manna, bread from heaven, to sustain them.

At the very beginning of his ministry, Jesus turns water into wine so that people may continue their celebration at a wedding. It’s his first public miracle. When Jesus’ preaching brought crowds, he multiped loaves and fish to feed them all—so much that there was an abundance of leftover food.

So when he and disciples celebrate Passover, and he takes the bread and the wine, there is already a rich symbolism there. But he is not continuing the deep meaning of these elements; he is fulfilling them. Sacrifice, thanksgiving, liberation, remembrance, sustenance, hope, celebration—he is all that. He is everything. And he promises to always be that, for all people, for all time.

“This saying is hard; who can accept it?” (John 6:60) When Jesus says you must eat his flesh and drink his blood, people understand that he is not being metaphorical. They are astounded at what he’s saying. Some even leave, because it’s such a radical statement. But Jesus doubles down: “Is this offensive to you?  What then if you see the Son of Man ascending to where He was before?... But there are some of you who do not believe” (John 6:61-64). He doesn’t say “who do not understand,” but “who do not believe.” They weren’t misunderstanding; he was calling them to the Eucharist, explaining that his flesh and blood would be available to be consumed and that doing so would bring salvation. Radical. Surreal. Difficult to believe.

The catechism acknowledges, “The Eucharist and the Cross are stumbling blocks. It is the same mystery, and it never ceases to be an occasion of division” (CCC 1336).

^“The mode of Christ's presence under the Eucharistic species is unique. It raises the Eucharist above all the sacraments as the perfection of the spiritual life and the end to which all the sacraments tend. In the most blessed sacrament of the Eucharist ‘the body and blood, together with the soul and divinity, of our Lord Jesus Christ and, therefore, the whole Christ is truly, really, and substantially contained’ ” (CCC 1374).

It is a hard teaching. It is a powerful teaching. It is an earth-shaking, world-changing reality. It’s so much easier to walk away or brush it off as a symbol. As T. S. Eliot said, “Humankind cannot bear very much reality.” Yet we are called to bear it. We are called to experience his presence. We are called to eat his flesh and drink his blood, to go all-in, to live in a radically altered world.