What would a scientist find?

The mechanics of the transformation that occurs at every Mass have been the subject of controversy since at least the Reformation in the sixteenth century. Although Eastern Orthodox and Western Catholic Christians use different terms and theological language to explain the change that takes place, it seems clear to me from what I have read, seen and heard that they share the same essential conviction: the bread and wine taken, blessed and offered in the Eucharist become the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. What was once ordinary food is no longer ordinary food. The belief that Christ is truly present in the Eucharist and that a real transformation takes place is consistent with what Christians believed, taught and practised from apostolic times onwards.

At the time of the Reformation, this ancient consensus was fractured, even though the original disputes arose largely in other areas of doctrine, particularly the nature of salvation, the role of Scripture and the authority of the Pope.

A sacrament of divine love

Two great saints of the thirteenth century, St Thomas Aquinas the Dominican and St Bonaventure the Franciscan theologian and bishop, provided different but complementary insights into the Eucharist. St Thomas Aquinas is especially known for his explanation of how Christ is truly present in the sacrament, while St Bonaventure is particularly remembered for helping believers to understand why Christ remains present among us: because, in his great love, he desires to unite himself ever more closely to those whom he loves.

The Eucharist is, above all, the sacrament of Christ's presence with us, transforming us and drawing us toward the heavenly communion for which we were created. St Bonaventure teaches that at the Last Supper Christ gave his Body and Blood as food and drink (Lignum Vitae 30), leaving the Church a lasting memorial of his saving love.

Is Mass boring?

St Thomas Aquinas taught that, in heaven, we will never exhaust the mystery and beauty of God [Summa Theologiae q12 a6]. That is a delightful thought. We may think of heaven, therefore, is not a static existence but an eternal participation in the inexhaustible richness of divine truth and love.

In the Eucharist we receive a foretaste of heaven as we join the heavenly assembly.  Could anything be more true, beautiful and better than the Mass on this side of eternity?

Not only is life always (for me, at least) interesting and exciting, if sometimes challenging and painful, but we can also look forward in Christian hope to an eternity of ever-deeper wonder, joy, and communion with God. As St Paul writes:

What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him (1 Corinthians 2:9).

Standing with angels

 

St Gregory of Nazianzus(329-390), a close friend of St Basil the Great [see Yet another early witness to the Eucharist], is known in the East as Gregory the Theologian.  After studying with Basil in Athens, they returned to their native Cappadocia (now Eastern Turkey) to serve the Lord. It was during the time of the Arian heresy which refused the full divinity of Christ, Gregory was reluctantly consecrated bishop of Sasima, a small Cappadocian town. Following the death of his father, the bishop of Nazianzus, he briefly overseed that church. 

Later he became Archbishop of Constantinople, the most prestigious see in the East and second only to Rome in honour. He played a leading role at the First Ecumenical Council of Constantinople in 381 A.D. which completed the creed that we commonly call the Nicene Creed, often recited at the Sunday Eucharist by Catholics and Orthodox Christians.

What does the word Eucharist mean?

The Greek noun εὐχαριστία (eucharistia) comes from two words:

eu (εὖ), meaning 'well' or 'good';

charis (χάρις), meaning 'grace', 'favour', 'gratitude', or 'thanks'.

Together, they convey the meaning of grateful thanksgiving for God's gifts.

The psalmist declares (Ps 116):

A thanksgiving cup I will raise; I will call on the Lord's name.

To participate in Mass is to participate in a feast of joy. Behind the grey walls of distraction, doubt, and discouragement, there is the joy of the risen Christ, who comes to us under the appearances of bread and wine.

It is well to be here. We are truly blessed.

All

Sunday 25 October 2026 (Year A)

Lectio Divina:*

Exodus 22:20-26 Psalm 18 (17) 1 Thessalonians 1:5-10 Matthew 22:34-40

(See also Mark 12:13-17 and Luke 20:20-26)

Meditatio:

“On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.” (Matthew 22:40)

Commentary:

This Sunday the clocks go back an hour. It also happens to be ‘Bible Sunday’ in many of the churches stemming from the Reformation. Most of what we hear and pray in church is directly taken from the sacred scriptures consisting of at least 66 books written by more than 66 authors at different times and in different contexts over a period of many centuries.  Holding them together is the agreed Canon or index of books which, it was agreed by Christians in the early centuries, is divinely inspired and, therefore forms part of the Word of God.

The next time you read the Bible cover to cover you might like to use a yellow marker and mark over the word ‘all’ (assuming you are reading the Bible in English). You will run out of yellow marker. You will be surprised at how often this word ‘All’ crops up from start to finish:

Given for you

Mahatma Gandhi is quoted as saying:

The political and journalistic world can boast of very few heroes who compare with Father Damien of Molokai. The Catholic Church, on the contrary, counts by the thousands those who, after the example of Fr. Damien, have devoted themselves to the victims of leprosy. It is worthwhile to look for the sources of such heroism [T.N. Jagadisan's 1965 publication Mahatma Gandhi Answers the Challenge of Leprosy]

Who was Father Damien of Molokai?  He was a Belgian Catholic priest of the Congregation of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary, who was canonised in 2009.  He voluntarily ministered among people afflicted with leprosy in Hawaii for 16 years until his death in 1889.  He shared their lives, treated their wounds and eventually contracted the disease himself.  He frequently spoke of the Mass and the Eucharist as the source of strength that sustained his mission.

His story reminds me of a TV documentary made at the height of the Covid-19 pandemic when, in Tallaght University Hospital, Dublin, the chaplain was filmed in the wards behind curtains talking to God and a person who was dying.