In my previous column, we looked at indisputable evidence from Scripture and the early Church for the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist.
In particular, we examined John 6, “unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you,” showing that a literal interpretation of this chapter leads directly to the Catholic teaching of the Real Presence.
Any attempt to force a symbolic interpretation on these verses not only goes against the clear meaning of the text, but also against the early Christian Church’s unanimous understanding of it as well.
And here is yet more fascinating evidence from the Our Father. In Matthew 6:11, Jesus uses a neologism – a new word, previously unknown to the world, and used by Jesus for the very first time in history, right here: “Give us this day our daily [epiousios, Greek] bread.” “Epi” means super or above, and “ousios” means substance or nature.
The translation of the original inspired Greek text into the English “daily,” found in many Bible translations today, simply does not capture the profound essence of what Jesus is saying here. St Jerome’s translation of this word in the Latin Vulgate, the official Bible translation of the Catholic Church, reads as follows: “Give us this day our supersubstantial bread.” This reference profoundly conveys the Church’s teaching that the Eucharist becomes something above the ordinary matter or substance of bread.
But despite resounding testimony to the Real Presence, and on many levels, it is still a place where many struggle. How, many ask, can this be? “This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?” (Jn 6:60).
And here lies the heart of the matter: could Jesus really do this? Could he change a piece of bread into his Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity, but still have it remain, in every aspect of its physicality and appearances, bread – its substance, its essence, absolutely and radically changed, but the physical properties unchanged? The answer is a resounding yes. Of course he could do this. God can do anything.
God assures us of exactly this point in Isaiah 55:11, in case we had any doubt: “My word ... goes forth from my mouth ... achieving the end for which I sent it.” So when Jesus, holding bread at the Last Supper, says, “this is my body” (Lk 22:19), that is exactly what it becomes. It remains, in all its appearances, like bread. But its substance has completely changed. St. Augustine, one of Christianity’s greatest saints and theologians, profoundly observes that, at that moment, “Christ was carried in his own hands.”
St. Ambrose, a doctor of the Church, explains: “Be convinced that ... the power of the blessing prevails over that of nature ... by the blessing nature itself is changed ... Could not Christ’s word, which can make from nothing what did not exist, change existing things into what they were not before? It is no less a feat to give things their original nature than to change their nature.”
And St. John Chrysostom, perhaps the greatest preacher of the early Church, echoes this same teaching: “It is not man that causes the things offered to become the Body and Blood of Christ, but ... Christ himself. The priest ... pronounces these words, but their power and grace are God’s. ‘This is my body,’ he says. This word transforms the things offered.”
Similarly, St. Cyril of Jerusalem also writes: “The bread and the wine of the Eucharist before the holy invocation of the adorable Trinity were simple bread and wine, but the invocation having been made, the bread becomes the body of Christ and the wine the blood of Christ.”
But some still object, insisting there is no physical evidence of such a change: one can get inebriated from the Precious Blood, celiacs can react to the Precious Body. If the bread and wine have ceased to remain, and all that is really left is Jesus’ Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity, the physical responses to bread and wine should no longer occur, right?
But again, such an objection misses the profound truth of what actually happens at the moment of consecration: the substance of bread and wine is completely changed, but all the physical properties or “accidents,” as the Church calls them – taste, smell, outward appearance, physical qualities and effects – remain. The Church’s term for this miraculous change is “transubstantiation.”
What part of the physical traits of bread and wine do we expect Jesus to leave unchanged? Should what was bread still look like bread but not taste like it? Should what was wine still be claret in colour, but not have the physical effect of wine? Should the bread have turned immediately to flesh, as it actually has in multiple miracles documented in the Church over the centuries? (The miracle of Lanciano is a great place to start.)
The Catechism of the Catholic Church addresses this point in Paragraph 1333: “The signs of bread and wine become, in a way surpassing understanding, the Body and Blood of Christ.” Similarly, in his commentary on Luke 22:19 (“this is my body”), St. Cyril of Alexandria further emphasizes this teaching: “Do not doubt whether this is true, but rather receive the words of the Savior in faith, for since he is the truth, he cannot lie.”
St. Thomas Aquinas, perhaps the greatest Christian theologian in history, puts things this way: “That in this sacrament are the true Body of Christ and his true Blood is something that cannot be apprehended by the senses, but only by faith, which relies on divine authority.” In other words, we don’t rely primarily on emotional, intellectual, or physical evidence: I don’t necessarily feel Jesus’ real presence after I receive the Eucharist (though some certainly do at times, as a special grace from God). We believe in the Real Presence because we trust Jesus at his word: “this is my Body.”
St. Cyril, doctor of the Church and Bishop of Jerusalem (AD 350) summarizes things beautifully for us: “He ... having declared ... of the Bread, ‘This is my Body,’ who will dare any longer to doubt? And when he himself has affirmed ... ‘This is My Blood,’ who can ever hesitate and say it is not His Blood? Do not, therefore, regard the bread and wine as simply that, for they are, according to the Master’s declaration, the Body and Blood of Christ. Even though the senses suggest to you the other, let faith make you firm. Do not judge in this matter by taste, but be fully assured by faith.”
What is crystal clear here is that Jesus’ real presence in the Eucharist has been the constant, unanimous belief of the Christian Church, right from the time of the Apostles to Martin Luther himself. And in past centuries, this was a unifying doctrine among all Christians – and a belief that formed the heart of Christian worship. During times of persecution or danger, people risked their lives to attend Mass, hide priests, or secretly distribute the Eucharist to other believers.
But as doubts flood in, and faith in the Real Presence plummets to stunning lows – today, only 20 to 30 per cent of Catholics believe in the sacrament the Church calls “the source and summit of the Christian life” – perhaps the answer lies in the prayer of the father in Mark 9:29: “I believe! Help my unbelief!”
To some degree, the Eucharist is a test of faith. Belief in the Real Presence is not a matter of science, or verifiable observations. Ultimately, it is about trusting that Jesus will do exactly what he has said: “This is my body” ... “he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day ... For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink” (Jn 6:53-55). Amen, Amen.