The Hidden Lord

The other evening during dinner, I asked my children what they had discussed during classes that day at school. One of my daughters- a fiery first-grader- told me that she was taught that although the Eucharist looks like bread, it really is the Body of Christ. We Catholics, of course, call this the doctrine of transubstantiation. Theologians sometimes explain it to using Aristotelian terms saying that, at the consecration of the Host by the priest, the substance of the Host changes from being bread into being the Body of Christ, while the accidents of bread (those qualities that inhere to the substance like taste, texture, size, shape, etc.) remain.

“But it doesn’t look like bread,” my same daughter further reflected out loud at the table. As my heart skipped a beat expecting that perhaps my little Lucy had become a visionary mystic overnight- her young innocent eyes, being gifted by an other-worldly Light that did not permit the accidents of the Sacrament to obscure her vision of its true Substance- seeing in the Sacred Host elevated at Mass what St. Stephen once saw at his martyrdom: “Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God…”, I was quickly brought back to my senses when she matter-of-factly added in a way only a child can: “It looks like a potato chip.” So it does, Lucy. So it does.

How to make sense of such a mystery as the Eucharist is challenging enough for an adult, never mind trying to transmit the significance of such a mystery to a child. For what we Catholics claim is the very Body of Jesus Christ is- to all our external senses- nothing but a piece of bread; nay, not just that, but a piece of bread that looks more like a potato chip! Indeed, if one were to place a consecrated Host under a microscope he would certainly discover in its miniscule, constitutive makeup nothing different than what he would see in a close-up view of the unconsecrated slices of bread (or perhaps even potato chips) he was planning on having at lunch. This fact is of course excepting such Eucharistic miracles like that found in Lanciano, Italy where the Sacred Host actually has been put under microscope and found to share not the extrinsic qualities of bread but of actual myocardial tissue from the human heart! But, such miraculous occurrences like those are not what we are considering here. They are peripheral to my point. We are here thinking about the ordinary Host you and I would find in the tabernacle right now at the closest Catholic church- the ordinary Host that looks, feels, and tastes like bread. Christ’s flesh is truly present in that tabernacle, we ask? The Lord Himself is physically present in that church?

In a sense, it does seem somewhat plausible. Is it not a greater act of self-abnegation that requires more faith to believe that the invisible, omnipotent and omniscient Being whom we call God once took the form of a slave and was born in the likeness of men than it requires of us to believe this same One then chose to go from being in the form of Man to then to proceed to take on the matter of bread? It seems reasonable that the first move from the eternity of heaven to the finitude of earth is to be considered more incredible than the second move from an inanimate piece of bread turning into the living flesh of the Son of God.

But, at a deeper level, this manner of our Lord’s abiding with us through the outward appearance of bread warrants even further credibility because it is wholly consistent with how He chose to live in the world of men during His earthly life. Didn’t he similarly “hide” His presence from human sight when He chose to become a fetus within the womb of the Blessed Virgin? As an infant, did He not flee into Egypt to hide from the proud eyes (not to mention sword) of Herod? What about during His early adolescence when He hid from the searching eyes of Mary and Joseph as they sought in vain for Him in Jerusalem? So too, did He not hide Himself in slumber from the fearful eyes of the Apostles in the hull of their fishing boat tossed about at sea? And, what about for the entirety of that first Easter Week in which He not only hid Himself from the doubting eyes of Thomas, but also from Mary Magdalene as He disguised Himself as a gardener and from the two travelers to Emmaus as He pretended to be an ignorant pedestrian? Our Lord rarely revealed Himself through spectacle and splendor. He scarcely showed His identity in open light. Therefore, is it not entirely fitting that in the Holy Eucharist He has chosen to continue His great masquerade of faith by perpetually hiding once again- this time behind the appearances of a piece of bread?

We are fortunate that our parish church has kept the altar rail in the lower chapel where daily Mass is held. Even more fortunate are we that our pastor allows us to use it when receiving communion. I am gladdened whenever I have this opportunity because I find a certain theological significance to the act of receiving communion on my knees, situated at a certain spot before the sanctuary at the rail. It reminds me of the fact that in all reality, it is not I who come to the Lord, but it is the Lord who comes to me! To me, planted in the confusion of this fallen world; to me, fixed in the consequences of my sin; to me, helpless in my weakness and wholly unworthy that He should enter under my roof.

Nonetheless, He still comes; for just as the priest proceeds closer and closer to my spot at the rail- as He who was once carried on an ass is now carried to me on a golden plate- it is as if I hear the whisper of my guardian angel, louder than a trumpet, announce: “Behold, the Bridegroom cometh!” And then, no sooner have I made ready for the coming of the Lord into my gullet, the priest stands before me with the Host. Now, if it is not blasphemous to imagine at this point, I often think that this priest, who only a short while ago was standing at the altar praying the Canon of the Mass as an alter-Christus, now stands before me at the rail as an alter-Pilate, holding up before my face the Sacred Host saying: “Ecce Homo!- Behold the Man!- Behold the Body of Christ! Behold Him who was once unrecognizable in the disfigured countenance of His Passion and now remains unrecognizable under the accidents of a chip-like piece of bread.” “Amen,” I say in reply to this.

What elicits this reply from you and me when we give our assent to the doctrine of the Holy Eucharist with our “Amen”? If all our senses fail to see His Presence in the Holy Sacrament of the Altar (which they will inevitably do, unless we find ourselves in a place like Lanciano), then an “Amen” is certainly nonsensical to say. If the reasoning powers of our mind fail to grasp the condescension of One who is so sublime into that which is as mundane as bread (which they too will inevitably do because such abasement lies beyond the comprehension of rationality or logic), then, again, an “Amen” is absurd. But, if the gift of faith can then step into our hearts and allow us to perceive the veiled Substance of the Lord who has an affinity for hiding, then it must be that faith alone saves us from the folly of not recognizing His Presence. No act of external perception nor process of inner reasoning can then fool us into thinking what lies before us is something like a potato chip. No, this is no chip, this is no piece of bread, our faith tells us; this is truly the Body of Christ. Only the light that comes from the assent of faith can illuminate the darkness that the rest of us is wrapped up in.

Now, if only I can get my two cents in at dinner tomorrow night and relay some of this to my kids- now that would be a something unworthy of belief.