Jesus Our Life
There is a quiet, breathtaking miracle that unfolds every time Mass is celebrated. It doesn’t come with the fanfare of trumpets or the roar of applause, but in the gentle lifting of bread and the pouring of wine. In that sacred stillness, heaven bends low and touches earth. The Eucharist, a gift so profound that it defies comprehension, does not merely nourish the body. It fills the soul, touching the deepest corners of our being with the unrelenting love of Christ. It is His whisper in our hearts: “I am here for you and I love you.”
When Jesus spoke the words “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life” (John 6:54), He wasn’t offering mere poetry. He was giving a promise so radical, so beyond anything the human mind could grasp, that it changed everything. At the Last Supper, when He took the bread in His hands, broke it, and declared, “Take and eat; this is my body. Then he took a cup, gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you, for this is my blood of the covenant, which will be shed on behalf of many for the forgiveness of sins.” (Matthew 26:26-28), He wasn’t simply leaving behind a memory, He was giving Himself entirely.
Through this miracle, we don’t just encounter a distant figure from history. In the breaking of bread, we meet the living Christ, the One who walked the dusty roads of Galilee, healed the outcast, forgave the sinner, and laid His life down for you and me. Each time we approach the altar; it is not a wafer and wine that we receive; it is life itself. It is the Bread of Heaven, the sustenance that carries our souls through the storms of life.
The Catechism calls the Eucharist “the medicine of immortality, the antidote to death, and the food that makes us live forever in Jesus Christ” (CCC 1405). These words are not lofty ideals; they are truth anchored in Jesus’ own promise: “I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever” (John 6:51). It is this sacred meal that sustains the faithful on their journey, offering strength, renewal, and divine intimacy that no earthly food can provide.
Saint Teresa of Calcutta understood this with piercing clarity. She once said: “Jesus has made Himself the Bread of Life to give us life. Night and day, He is there.” Her entire life, poured out for the poorest of the poor, was built on the strength she drew from the Eucharist. She would kneel before the Blessed Sacrament, gazing upon Christ, and declare, “When you look at the Sacred Host, you understand how much Jesus loves you now.” This love is not bound by logic or reason; it is a love so infinite, so selfless, that it gives itself away completely, and it transforms all who receive it.
The Eucharist is not just a theological concept, it is alive and active, changing hearts and healing wounds even today. In my own life I experienced Jesus in the Eucharist in a profound and personal way. One time in Elmira New York, my mother-in-law was taking turns bringing her children to Mass. I went with her having already been to Mass and went down to the blessed sacrament chapel. She joined me leaving her children with one of the older siblings. I knelt to pray with my arms lifted before the blessed sacrament and thought I was only there for about five to ten minutes. When I opened my eyes to look at her, my mother-in-law looked a bit unnerved. She told me I had been kneeling on the hard floor for two hours and during that time a bible came out of the tabernacle to her with a specific scripture verse highlighted that had an impact on her life. It strengthened our relationship which has endured through the years.
Saint Catherine of Siena clung to the Eucharist as a lifeline. In the final years of her life, unable to eat or drink, she found her only sustenance in the Eucharist. She called it “the sweet Bridegroom of my soul.” For Catherine, the Eucharist was not just in her heart, it was her heart. It gave her the courage to confront popes, navigate crises in the Church, and stand firm in the turbulent times of her era.
The Eucharist does not only unite us with Jesus, but it also binds us to one another. When we partake of His Body and Blood, we are reminded that we are not alone. We are part of a divine family, a Church that transcends culture, race, and time. Saint Augustine captured this reality perfectly, “You are what you eat: the Body of Christ.”
In this sacred act, we are called to be His hands and feet in the world, united in love and mission. Through the Eucharist, we are not only sustained; we are sent, strengthened to carry His light into the dark and weary corners of the earth.
Perhaps you feel distant from this mystery. Perhaps doubt or routine has dulled your sense of wonder. Yet the Eucharist extends its hand to you, not with force, but with gentle love. It invites the weary, the searching, and even the uncertain to come, see, taste, and believe. In this sacrament, Christ humbles Himself to take the form of bread and wine so that He can dwell within His people. As Saint John Vianney said: “The soul hungers for God, and nothing but God can satisfy it. The Eucharist is God.”
Saint Paul reminds us of the sacredness of this gift: “Whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord unworthily will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord” (1 Corinthians 11:27). This is no ordinary meal. It’s an encounter with the living God, and it calls us to approach with awe, humility, and a heart ready to be transformed.
At its core, the Eucharist is a paradox. It is simple, yet unfathomably profound. Silent, yet more powerful than words. Each time we receive Jesus, we are reminded that God’s love is not distant or abstract, it is here, now, in our hands and within our hearts.
This is the gift of Christ’s Body and Blood: nourishment for our souls, strength for our journey, and the promise of a love that knows no end. It is heaven’s greatest treasure, freely given so that we might never hunger again.