Corpus Christi 2026 - Why Eucharist?

 

During my eighth year of seminary, we devoted an entire semester to study the Sacrament which is at the heart of today’s feast: the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, the Eucharist. We studied how the scriptures, like the great Bread of Life discourse from John’s Gospel, as we heard today, influenced the early Church’s understanding of the Eucharist. We studied some of the ancient Eucharistic Prayers and the early Church fathers.

St. Ignatius of Antioch, for example, around the year 130, wrote about how sad it was that there were some who claimed to be Christian but did not confess the Eucharist to be the real flesh and blood of Jesus Christ. We continued through the early Church fathers to the medieval theologians, especially St. Thomas Aquinas, who composed the prayers and hymns for today’s feast.

At the end of the semester, our professor, Fr. Michael Woost—now Bishop Woost gave us some advice for the upcoming exam. He said, the best way to prepare for the exam is to “study everything”, as the exam would be comprehensive of all the material we’ve covered since class one.

Well, exam day arrived, and I thought I was ready! Bishop Woost handed us a small piece of paper with the exam’s only question, which consisted of two words and a question mark.  The big exam question was “Why Eucharist?”

Bishop Woost said, “you have two hours, I suggest you use it wisely.”  I watched my classmates open their exam book and start writing, but I just sort of sat there stunned for a moment. Now I promise you, I had studied. I had studied St. Justin Martyr, St. Fulgentius of Ruspe, Theodore of Mopsuesta, Blessed Sacrament Priest Eugene LaVerdie, Cardinal Ratzinger; I memorized the third Eucharistic Prayer, and most of the first and second ones. And this simple question, “why Eucharist?” just stunned me.

I sat there for 5 minutes, unable to write anything, kind of embarrassed. I’m 8 years into seminary, and I can’t think of where to start writing about the Most Blessed Sacrament. So, I prayed. “Dear God, help me. Why DID you give us the Eucharist?” And immediately an image popped into my mind: an image of the Eucharist contained in the monstrance. And I thought of the many holy hours that I had made as a seminarian: holy hours in the seminary chapel here in Cleveland, holy hours when I was a student in Rome, holy hours in my home parish. And at the conclusion of each of those holy hours is prayed the prayer composed by St. Thomas Aquinas for today’s Feast of Corpus Christi:

“O God, who in this wonderful Sacrament have left us a memorial of your Passion, grant us, we pray, so to revere the sacred mysteries of your Body and Blood that we may always experience in ourselves the fruits of your redemption.” And then I was able to begin writing. Now, I didn’t always get A’s in my seminary classes, but that was one exam that it all seemed to come together.

What the Church believes is expressed in her liturgical prayer. And that collect prayer for Corpus Christi answered Bishop Woost’s question: “why Eucharist”. Firstly, God gave us the Eucharist as a memorial of Christ’s passion. And secondly, “so that we may experience in ourselves the fruits of redemption”.

Let’s look at those two parts of the Collect prayer. Firstly, the Eucharist is a memorial. Jesus, at the Last Supper said, “do this in memory of me”. On the night before he died, our Blessed Lord took bread and wine and transformed them into his Body and Blood, and taught us—commanded us—to do the same. “Do this” Jesus says, “in order to remember what I have done for you—in offering my Flesh and Blood to the Father for your redemption on the cross, in my Passion.”

At Mass, bread and wine are truly transformed into our Savior’s Body and Blood. And those with eyes of faith are able to see Him, know Him, and be in Communion with Him as we receive His Body and Blood in the Eucharist.

And that brings us to the second part of that beautiful prayer:  Jesus gave us the Eucharist “so that we may always experience in ourselves the fruits of redemption.”

When we receive the Eucharist with Faith, in a state of grace, that produces certain fruits, certain effects in us. The particular fruits we receive in the Eucharist flow from his saving passion. When we receive the Eucharist our venial sins are forgiven and we are strengthened in unity with God and each other. As the Lord taught in the Gospel today, “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life” Jesus is the Eternal Word, who has risen from the dead, and lives forever, and when we receive the Eucharist, our souls are united with His Eternal Divine Life, so we too, may live forever.

This is why St. Ignatius of Antioch called the Eucharist, the remedy for our mortality, it’s the antidote against death. “whoever eats this bread will live forever." That’s the ultimate fruit of redemption, the reason Jesus died for us on the cross was to obtain for us eternal life, and that eternal life is communicated to us through the Eucharist.

This is why it is so concerning when Catholics stop going to Church and receiving the Eucharist in a state of grace. Without the eternal life that the Eucharist nurtures in us, we become deprived of the antidote for the powers of sin and death which seek to corrupt us.

The pride and lust and greed and selfishness which seek to drive us away from God are counteracted when we receive the Eucharist with the desire to overcome them. The fruits of patience, kindness, gentleness, and self-control grow in us, when we receive the Eucharist with openness to these grace.

Through the Eucharist, we become whom we are meant to be. Without the Eucharist, we are not complete. We lose our identity. For Christ defined Christianity at the Last Supper, to include taking, eating, drinking, remembering His Body and Blood. So we pray that all those separated from the Lord’s table may find their way home, here, to the altar, where we fed, nourished, and sanctified.

Dear ones, today we celebrate the greatest treasure Jesus left His Church—the gift of himself. He invites us to share in His divine life, to participate in His eternal sacrifice, and to carry that life to others.

Today’s feast reminds us of our great privilege, but also our great responsibility: to cooperate with the grace available here, to allow Christ to shape and form us, and to bear the fruit of conversion out in the world.

We offer ourselves along with the bread and wine to be transformed, that our lives may become Eucharistic, that we may become what we receive, as St. Augustine said, blessed, broken, and given, poured out for others, for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.

Corpus Christi 2022 - Why Eucharist?

 During my eighth year of seminary, we devoted an entire semester simply to study the Sacrament which is at the heart of today’s feast: the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, the Eucharist. We studied how the scriptures, like St. Luke's feeding of the multitude, as we heard today, influenced the early Christians. We studied some of the ancient Eucharistic Prayers. We studied the medieval Theologians, especially Thomas Aquinas, who composed the prayers and hymns for today’s feast.

And at the end of the term, after hours and hours and hours of reading ancient texts and obscure theologians and the church’s most recent documents, our professor, Fr. Michael Woost—now Bishop-Elect Michael Woost tells us that the best way to prepare for the exam is to “study everything”, as the exam would be comprehensive of all the material we’ve covered since class one.

So I studied the 9th century Eucharistic Controversies, Thomas Aquinas, Pope John Paul II, and what cutting-edge theologians were writing about. Exam-day arrived and I was ready! So we get to the classroom and Fr. Woost passed out the blank exam booklets which we’d use to answer the exam questions. But, he then explained that the exam only had one question. He then handed us a small piece of paper with the exam’s only question, which consisted of two words and a question mark.  The big exam question was “Why Eucharist?” 

Fr. Woost said, “you have two hours, I suggest you use it wisely.”  I see my classmates open their exam book and start writing. And I just sort of sat there stunned for a moment. What do you mean, “Why Eucharist?” I’ve studied Hugh of St. Victor, St. Fulgentius of Ruspe, Blessed Sacrament Priest Eugene LaVerdie, Cardinal Ratzinger, I memorized the third Eucharistic Prayer, and most of the first and second ones. And this simple question just stunned me.

My first thought was to write, “Why Eucharist? Why Not!” and hand that in. But if I did that, I probably would not have been ordained. So, as my classmates were writing and writing and writing, I’m just sort of sitting there. I had no idea where to start.  How can you answer that question?  “Why Eucharist” is like asking, “Why did God give us the Eucharist?” and it seemed pretty arrogant to presume we can even come close to answering that. We don’t call it the “Mystery of Faith” for nothing. 

So, I sat there for what seemed like 15-20 minutes before writing a word.  I felt stupid.  And it probably took me a little too long to pray for inspiration. But when I did, I got an image. The image of kneeling in the chapel, in front of the monstrance, just prior to benediction. This is something that I had experienced hundreds of times. And I thought of the words of the priest, right after the Tantum Ergo. “Lord Jesus Christ, you gave us the Eucharist as the memorial of your suffering and death. May our worship of this sacrament of your body and blood, help us to experience the salvation you won for us and the peace of the kingdom, where you live with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.” That is the prayer, prior to benediction, written by St. Thomas Aquinas…for today’s feast.

So when those words popped into my head, I thought, Thanks be to God, thank you St. Thomas. Because that prayer answers the question, “Why Eucharist?” So, you can tell I didn’t fail the exam, because…well, here I am.

So  hoes does today’s feast answer the question “Why Eucharist?” The Collect says it all. “Lord Jesus, you gave us the Eucharist as a memorial of your suffering and death” The Eucharist is given to us as a “memorial”. We are not angels, we have imperfect memories, we forget things, we need reminders. And the Eucharist is to help us remember that Jesus gave his Body and Blood for us on the cross.  Without that great labor of love, there would be no hope of heaven for any of us. 

When we celebrate Mass, we are transported to the Mount of Calvary; we kneel on the Mount of the cross, that we may be sprinkled with his cleansing blood. The Eucharist is the memorial of the Cross that Church has celebrated every week for 2000 years. For without this weekly reminder, Christians begin to drift away from the Church, we drift away from the power of the Cross; the power of His blood begins to dry up in our lives. “Do this in memory of me” the Lord says. And faithful to his command at the last supper, we come to mass every week for the Eucharist.

“Why Eucharist” The second part of that beautiful prayer, continues to answer that question “May our worship of this sacrament of your body and blood, help us to experience the salvation you won for us and the peace of the kingdom.” 

The Eucharist is not an empty exercise. This act of worship has more power than anything else on earth to bring us grace and peace if we are open to it. When we come to Mass, and are open to it, we can experience deliverance from our sinful ways, help to face temptations, and the peace of the kingdom. We come to mass with the anxieties of uncertain futures and past sins, we bring our strained relationships, new loves, old hatreds and resentments, we bring our successes or distressing failures, our promotions at work and job losses, happy marriages, broken marriages, good health and impending deaths, our feelings of closeness with God, our feelings of His absence. 

Whatever is going on in our lives, we come here to the altar to worship, to experience grace and Christ’s closeness, that the power of the cross may flow into all those relationships, all those successes, failures, challenges, and temptations, that they might be transformed like the bread and wine. 

Why Eucharist? The Body and Blood of Jesus is the food of truth and spiritual life that sustains us on our earthly journey and mission. Without the Eucharist we will never overcome our sins, we will never love each other as we should, we will never spread the Gospel as we are tasked. “Unless you eat my flesh and drink my blood you do not have my life within you.”

Thanks be to God for this great gift, left to us that we may never, never forget, and always, always know the fruits of his saving sacrifice for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

6th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2021 - Jesus touches the leper

 In seminary each year, each of the seminarians in our diocese are given an apostolate—we are sent outside the seminary walls—to engage in some form of holy work. Each week, the seminarians would go to different sites throughout the diocese to engage in ministry to the sick, hungry, lonely, or poor; we’d visit residents at the Catholic nursing homes or homes for the mentally or physically challenged, and hospital, we’d assist at the Ozanam Center of West Side Catholic Center, or Teaching RCIA or Adult Faith Formation in parishes, we might work with Parish Youth Groups. The holy work was of course good in itself, but it would also provide experience for our future priestly ministry.

Well, my first year of seminary, I was paired with another seminarian, who is now a very good friend of mine and brother priest, Father Jared Orndorff, pastor of St. Joe’s in Cuyahoga Fall, and we were assigned to minister to the inmates at the Cuyahoga County Jail under the supervision of Fr. Neil Walters and Deacon Tom Send. Each week we would answer requests the inmates made to the chaplain’s office for rosaries, bibles, and prayer books, we’d take note for Father for requests for the Sacraments, and we’d accompany Father Neil to the prison cell blocks and occasionally even sit down and talk with the prisoner.

It was sometimes a bit intimidating to walk free through the jail hallways. But in the short conversations we’d have with the inmates when handing them a bible or a rosary, or going to pray with them, we knew we were doing to the Lord’s good work—bringing a bit of the Lord’s goodness and love into the lives of others. “When I was in prison, you visited me.”

This weekend’s first reading reminded me of an occasion at the Jail, when we were accompanying Father Neil to the cell blocks, and as we were leaving an inmate calls out to Father, maybe a bit like the leper in today’s Gospel. He comes up to us, and says, “father, can you please take a look at this”, and he lifts up his pant leg to reveal a pretty nasty skin condition. Father took a glance at the sores and wounds, nodded, and laid hands on the inmate, blessed him, and we left.

What was that all about, we asked Fr. Neil. And he referenced today’s first reading. “If anyone has on his skin a scab or pustule or blotch, he shall be brought to the priest. The inmate must have been reading Leviticus”. In those ancient days, the Levitical priests had this responsibility of diagnosing leprosy. The priests, learned in the law, was tasked with this duty in order to preserve the health of the community. That there are these laws about public health in God’s inspired word, reminds of us God’s care for the health and integrity of his people.  Having diagnosed leprosy the leper was then required by the law to quarantine outside of the common dwelling areas, again to preserve public health. We understand this quite well, don’t we, due to the events of the past year?

Now, we, as Christians, are not bound by this precept of Levitical law to show your skin conditions to the priest. But this reading certainly contains some lessons and foreshadowing’s for the life of the Church. Firstly, we do not show our skin pustules and blotches to the ordained priests, but Church law certainly requires us to bring our mortal sins to the priest in the Sacrament of Confession.

Secondly, we’ve seen this last year Church leaders continue this practical care the physical health of the Church. Almost a year ago now, the bishops relieved us of our obligation to attend Sunday mass due to the virus, and after reopening the churches, the bishops continued to prescribe that those showing flu like symptoms should remain home out of care for others, and that masks be worn to stop the spread of the disease. As attendance at mass is deemed safer and safer by our Church leaders, it is likely we will soon see a reinstitution of the mass obligation. For example, the Archdiocese of Detroit has alraedy announced that the obligation will go back in effect for the faithful of Detroit on March 14.

I was deeply impressed with Detroit Archbishop Vigneron’s letter to the archdiocese because he balances pastoral sensitivity for people’s health with a real religious sense for the reasons why mass attendance is so important. He writes,  “God did not come to us virtually. He came to us—and continues to come to us—in the flesh. As Catholics, unmediated contact with the Real presence of the flesh and blood of Our Lord in offering [the Eucharistic sacrifice of the Mass] to the Father is irreplaceable and essential”. Again, he says, for anyone who needs to refrain from attending Mass for medical reasons, the obligation will not be binding, but for those who are able to attend Mass, the obligation will again be in effect.

I don’t know the future, but I think we’re likely to see a similar policy here in Cleveland in the next month or two, and for the same theologically sound reasons the Archbishop raises: Real encounter with the Lord Jesus in the Sacraments is an irreplaceable and essential element of our faith.

In the Gospel this weekend, we see the leper, approaching the Lord, and the Lord reaches out his hands to the leper and touches him. That Physical contact with the Lord Jesus, in the Gospel today, that real, not virtual, but real encounter with the Lord who pronounces the leper clean, is a foreshadowing of what happens in the confessional and what happens at holy mass, and in all the Sacraments of the Church.

While  livestreaming mass has made it possible for us to remember our connection to the prayer life of our parishes, there is an ontological difference between watching mass on television or internet and the real sacramental encounter. I know I’m preaching to the choir here, for so many of you have desired that real encounter, and came back to church as soon as possible, and many of you who are still unable to come to mass, have shared with me how much you miss it.

For we know, don’t we, that something happens here that doesn’t happen anywhere else. We gaze upon the Lord in his Holy sanctuary. We kneel before the Lord, acknowledging our sins and our challenges and crosses and difficulties, and he extends his hands to us and touches us, touches our lives, blesses us and strengthens us. He pronounces us in the confessional forgiven of our sins. And in the valid reception of the Eucharist he deems us in holy communion, in right relationship with God.

And that maskless, physical contact with others, it’s part of healthy normal human communication, and showing of affection, and comforting others. Shaking hands as a greeting, or agreement, or making peace with a brother. Serving a meal to a hungry stranger. These physical actions and connections are so important for the Gospel. For as members of the body of Christ we are to be that hand extended to the leper, the hand laid upon the leper.

But we’re not quite entirely back to normal yet, for as you may have read in last week’s bulletin, our practice for ash Wednesday this week will be a little bit different than in recent decades. As you come forward for ashes on ash Wednesday, the Bishops of the United States, following the instruction of the Pope in Rome, have mandated that instead of marking each forehead with a cross, the priest will sprinkle ashes on the head of each person without saying anything and avoiding physical contact. Though, this involves a change from longstanding tradition in the United States, the distribution by sprinkling rather than tracing the sign of the cross is a common practice in nearly every other country around the world.

We will however continue our Lenten tradition of offering stations of the cross each Friday at 7pm here in the Church, and I encourage you all to make a good Lenten confession sometime this season. In addition to the normal confession schedule of Saturdays from 3-4, Sundays from 10 to 10:45 and Mondays from 4:45 to 5:15, I will have three hours of confession the evening of March 24. This is in lieu of the diocesan evening of confession which has been cancelled. But I’ll be here for you, dear parishioners.

As we prepare for the holy season of Lent, let us consider how the Lord desires to draw near to us through our prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, and wishing to extend his hands to the lepers of our own day, through us for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

4th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Adore, Bow Down, and Kneel before the Lord

 Many of you know that our beautiful church of St. Ignatius of Antioch was not the first church building built on this property. In 1903 a brick structure was built which was a combination church and school. Within a decade it was evident that the church wasn’t going to be big enough for the quickly growing parish. The population of the neighborhood was growing due to urban flight from the city for a number of reasons. For one, your great grandparents generation came out here as the city began filling up due to new immigrants coming to Cleveland, some from Europe and some from the American South. Secondly, due to new factories, the big industrialized steel cities didn’t smell to good, and to move out to West Blvd. was a break from crowded smelly city life. Thirdly, a new church needed to be built because the family was growing, bigger families needed more pews. But also, the catholic family was growing because the Catholics were successful in sharing their faith with their non-Catholic neighbors.

So, ground was broken for the new church of St. Ignatius on April 4, 1925, with a lower church and upper church—big enough to house this booming Catholic population. Some of you may remember when mass was celebrated downstairs in the lower church and busses would pick up parishioners from around the neighborhood, as the parking lot never could quite accommodate all the Sunday worshippers in those days. 

I wish I could take you on a tour of the lower church, but’s it just not safe enough to be wandering around down there. Maybe one day, we’ll be able to afford a renovation to make the lower level usable at least for a gathering and meeting area. The lower level was accessed by the outside stairwells, and entering the church, you’d first be probably be struck at first by the pillars topped with these beautiful carved capitals depicting the four evangelists. 

And then kneeling down at your pew, you’d see, written in latin above the sanctuary, the words of our responsorial psalm today, the sixth verse of Psalm 95: Venite, adoremus et procidamus et genua flectamus ante Dominum. Come, let us adore and bow down and bend the knee before the Lord. 

Every time you’d come to church, you’d see this reminder, of what made this building different from the skyscrapers downtown and even the family home. It is here that God is worshiped. It is here that we show our faith and our love for God, by bending the knee, by kneeling before him and adoring him in the Blessed Sacrament.

Parish council shared with me that there was once an attempt to remove the kneelers from church, and and I’m so glad there was some resistance by the parishioners, because kneeling before God in God’s house, is a constitutive part of Catholic worship, a posture of humility we see already practiced by our Jewish ancestors. 

This is why kneeling at the Communion rail—kneeling for Communion—was custom for Roman Catholics, for well over a thousand years, closer to two thousand, than one. As an acknowledgement that you were kneeling down before the Lord himself present in the Sacrament.

As many of you know I’ve begun to offer on a weekly basis, on Monday evenings,  the Latin Mass, for the Mass which fed and nourished the souls of your grandparents is being rediscovered by new generations of Catholics. This Monday night, in particular, I will be celebrating the Solemn High Mass for the Feast of St. Ignatius of Antioch, which is February 1st on the old calendar. If it’s been a few decades or you’ve never experienced Solemn High Mass, come check it out on Monday evening. You might not understand everything that’s going on…but that’s okay, do we ever? But you can come and adore and bow down and kneel and pray. 

Friday night, I assisted at a solemn high mass, at St. Paul’s Parish down in Akron, at the conclusion of their week of Eucharistic devotions. The pastor, Father Matt Pfeiffer, my good friend and classmate, shared a story during the homily, Friday night, a story from our seminary days. The seminarians make a winter retreat before the beginning of the spring semester every year, and we were at a retreat house down in Columbus. There’s a saying amongst seminarians that God doesn’t call the perfect, he perfects the called, and this little aphorism was on full display on this retreat. There was a pair of seminarians who just didn’t get along—huge personality differences—they just couldn’t see eye-to-eye. They argued, often. And on the last day of the retreat, in a moment of real vulnerability, one of these seminarians opened up, and shared with the group, he said, it’s no secret that this other seminarian and I don’t get along, but last night, I went to the chapel, to kneel down and pray before the blessed sacrament, and I was there for some time, and when I looked over across the chapel, there, kneeling in adoration, was, Michael. And I realized, that despite our differences, both of us loved the Lord, in faith and adoration we were united.

And that’s what being Catholic is all about, isn’t it? Despite our difference, we adore, we bow down, and we kneel in the unity of faith. Despite our differences, we set them aside when we walk through these doors. White, black, rich, poor, conservative or progressive. This place has always been that way, where the very diverse people from the neighborhood, could come and kneel and worship. 

There’s been a lot of talk about unity these days. But any unity that is not based on living under God, or rather, kneeling before him, is artificial, and will never last. Honestly, I don’t think it’s a coincidence, that the civil unrest that we are experiencing in this country at this moment in history comes at a time when mass attendance amongst Catholics, church attendance in general, is at an all time low. For how can we have unity, if we do not rightly acknowledge and come to kneel before the source of that unity. 

Any national revival of civility, neighborly trust, or honesty in business, will only come as a result of spiritual and moral revival. And that is not something the government can mandate or enforce or fabricate. For without God, man can only impose an unholy uniformity through force and coercion, a counterfeit imposter of the sacred and charitable bonds of unity through Christ. 

You want to trust your neighbor again, kneel beside him in the eucharist. You want civility to reign even among people you disagree with politically? Kneel beside them. You want peace in your families, ensure you are kneeling together, and adoring the Lord together. 

To kneel before the Eucharist is to submit your life to Him, to renounce everything that does not come from him, anything unclean, as we heard in the Gospel, is to exorcized and expelled from our lives, any belief contrary to His teaching and the teaching of His holy church.

Those words, “Come, let us adore, and bow down, and worship” are an invitation that the Word of God makes to us, that we may know his peace and unity in this life as a foretaste of heaven. And yet, it is also a command, to carry that invitation to those we meet out in the world, to the unbeliever, to those who kneel before the false gods of the world, or only worship their own ego. We are sent by the Word of God into their lives, that, with God, we may be one, and know his peace and rest in his presence for the glory of God and salvation of souls.