On the Feast of Corpus Christi I always like to reflect upon the great extraordinary miracles which remind us that the Eucharist is more than ordinary bread and wine, it is the real presence of the Body and Blood of Jesus—true God and true man.
There is the famous Eucharistic Miracle which became the impetus for this Feast. The story of the doubting priest, Father Peter of Prague. As he celebrated the Mass, and held aloft the consecrated host, the host began to bleed. After the Pope himself investigated the bleeding host, he inaugurated this feast of Corpus Christi, so that the entire church universal might celebrate with great solemnity, our belief that at holy mass, ordinary bread and ordinary wine is transformed by the power of the holy spirit, into the very body and blood of the Lord Jesus.
I came across another story, which I’d never heard before—a dramatic Eucharistic miracle in the French town of Faverney [fah-vuhr-NAY], in 1608, in the local Benedictine monastery.
This monastery had a tradition of inviting the townspeople to solemn adoration of the Blessed Sacrament on Pentecost Sunday and the following Monday. That year the Pentecost services were well attended. At nightfall, when the doors to the church were shut, two oil lamps were left burning before the Blessed Sacrament, which was left exposed on the altar in a simple monstrance.
When the sacristan reopened the doors on Monday morning, he found the church filled with smoke, and flames billowing on all sides of the altar. He ran to warn the monks, who rushed to the church to put out the blaze.
While the flames were being extinguished, one of the monks noticed that the monstrance with the Eucharist was hovering in mid-air. The fire had devoured the altar, turning it into a heap of ashes, but the monstrance remained suspended in mid-air. Of course the monks fell to their knees in adoration.
Word quickly spread, and throughout the day villagers, priests, monks from other abbeys, and plenty of skeptics were constantly flowing in and out of the church, gazing at the miracle, which continued throughout the day and Monday night.
Tuesday morning, Mass was celebrated on a nearby altar, and during the consecration, the congregation saw the monstrance slowly descend to the makeshift altar that had been brought in to replace the one destroyed in the fire.
The suspension of the monstrance had lasted at 33 hours and was confirmed by dozens of witnesses, who later gave official depositions to the bishop.
These dramatic Eucharistic miracles remind us that at every Mass, God causes a miracle to occur— during the words of consecration, the humble, normal substances of bread and wine are changed into Christ's living body and blood. Of course, the physical accidents of bread and wine remain. It looks like bread, smells like bread, tastes like bread. But on the supernatural, substantial level, the Eucharist is Jesus. Which is why following the words of consecration, we all express our wonder, awe, and belief in this miracles when we give our response to the priest's invitation: "The mystery of faith." Our faith is able to fathom a deeper reality than ever our senses can detect.
The Eucharistic is not just a symbol. We don’t love symbols, we don’t kneel down and adore symbols, we don’t strive to better ourselves for a symbol. But we do kneel down and adore the Eucharist, we treat it with the highest level of reverence we can muster, because the Eucharist is really and truly Jesus Christ, present. He is truly present in the tabernacle. He is made present on the altar through the prayers of the priest. He is truly present as you receive him in Holy Communion. And he makes Himself present that you may love Him, and adore Him, and know Communion with God through Him, and receive the transforming grace you need to be faithful to Him in the concrete circumstances of your life. Helping you, like Him, to become a pleasing sacrifice to God, to be broken and shared for others.
St. Augustine said that when you receive the Eucharist with faith, faith in his real presence, faith with his ability to transform you and sanctify you, you become what you receive. Pope Francis echoed St. Augustine recently when he said the Eucharist allows us to imitate what we celebrate.
The Eucharist is Jesus. And receiving the Eucharist worthily, with faith, enables us to imitate Jesus in His love—His love of the Father and the Holy Spirit—and His love for humanity. The Eucharist enables us to comfort the afflicted like Jesus, to counsel the doubtful like Jesus, to feed the hungry like Jesus, to teach the ignorant like Jesus, it humbles us to wash the feet of our brethren like Jesus, it gives us strength to bear our crosses like Jesus and rise to eternal life like Jesus.
Following the 11am Mass we will make procession with the Blessed Sacrament around our property. A Eucharistic procession is an act of imitation. As we make the simple walk, we imitate our Lord who walked from town to town preaching the Gospel throughout Judaea and Galilee, walking the streets of Jerusalem, carrying his cross in the hot sun, parched and bleeding, on his way to offer the ultimate sacrifice on Calvary.
Our procession is also an act of evangelization—a way of inviting others to Faith. How strange we will likely appear to those who see us processing—carrying enshrined in gold, what looks to the world as a piece of bread. Why do they do this strange thing, they might ask. And that can be the beginning of God’s truth breaking into their lives.
The procession is also a reminder to us. That’s what we’re supposed to do every day. Being visible signs of the goodness of our Eucharistic Lord—spreading his love and the faith He taught for the glory of God and salvation of souls.
