Mysterious and Glorious Food

For the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ…

 

‘Here beneath these signs are hidden
Priceless things to sense forbidden;
Signs, not things are all we see:
Blood is poured and flesh is broken,
Yet in either wondrous token
Christ entire we know to be.’

 From the Sequence for Corpus Christi

 

The relationship is the thing.

It’s that way in marriage, and it’s that way, it seems to me, with holy Communion. Both require only one thing: that I encounter my true love and renew my bond with him and live a life that reflects the depth of that love.

The true task of understanding the Christian life, the Catholic life, is so simple we might miss it. It is a call to be in a relationship with Jesus—not to just know of him, but to know him. This calls for an on-going committed relationship that leads to fruitful love. Everything about my going to Mass should point to Jesus and flow from him. This weekend I’m considering the proximity of the feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in just a few days away, as a lens to better “see” Sunday’s Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ.

This I know: The love of Jesus’ Sacred Heart that beats for you and for me. In real time. In real life. The heart of God loves us. God came in search of us, and died for us, all while yearning to draw us into his fiery, magnificent love. When I consider the proximity of Jesus to me in the Eucharist, when I’m sitting reflecting in the pew after receiving the Blessed Sacrament, that’s what warms my heart toward his: to know that his heart is first turned toward me, that his heart burns for mine. The Eucharist nourishes my love for him, and my ability to love others.

We are grafted into the Body in and through our Baptism, and we are called to, ultimately, know union the whole of Christ—“Christ entire.” We are nourished by this mysterious and glorious food of the Eucharist to sustain this life in us now, that we might one day know him in his entirety for eternity. But for right now, there is nothing quite like discovering the sound of his beating heart aching for ours.

 

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