Living Into the Mystery of the Eucharist

Today’s reflection is from Liam Myers (he/him), a freelance writer, an adjunct professor of religious studies at Iona University, New Rochelle, NY, and member of the Catholic Worker Maryhouse in NYC.

Today’s liturgical readings for the 20th Sunday of Ordinary Time are available here.

Being raised Catholic taught me the importance of going to Mass on Sunday. As a child I did not always pay close attention, often daydreaming during the sermon, or coloring in the pew, but I always knew that something important was happening when the priest sang “The Mystery of Faith,” and we responded with “We proclaim your death, O Lord, and profess your resurrection, until you come again.” Soon after this moment, I would line up to receive the body of Christ, along with the rest of the congregation. 

In today’s gospel reading, Jesus explains to the crowds that His ministry culminates in the giving of his flesh and blood for the life of those who eat and drink of it. In essence, Jesus was describing the purpose of the Eucharist we now celebrate. Jesus teaches that this sacrament is an intimate encounter wherein we “feed on the flesh” He offers. To me, Jesus’ words read as mysterious, transcendent, and ultimately poetic. 

Mary Oliver describes the poet as someone who “stands between two marvelous and complex things – an experience, and the urge to tell about it in the best possible conjunction of words.” In today’s gospel, Jesus is clearly in this situation as He yearns to describe to those who love Him about the utmost importance of celebrating this holy meal together. I wonder, what would happen in our church if we took today’s gospel reading not as a blueprint for doctrine but as an invitation into an experience?

Scholars point out that the story of the miracle of the loaves and fishes almost immediately precedes this story in the Gospel narrative. We must contextualize today’s Gospel reading as the placement shows how crucial it was for the people to experience the feast before having it explained to them. So too, our experience of and with this sacrament comes before our understanding of it. 

But this reciprocal relationship of experience and understanding must not end within our own bodies upon our own recieving of Jesus’ body. Rather than letting the feast end at church, or merely observing or viewing the Eucharist from afar, we must allow this continuous encounter to actively transform us. To take Jesus’ words to heart, we know that to eat the body of Christ means to share this body and to invite others into this fullness of life. 

To receive the Bread of Life that Jesus offers, we must be in tune with our innermost selves and with experiences which lead to deeper self-understanding. This process involves humbling ourselves to recognize that we, as made in God’s image, are likewise full of mystery. Our very essence, just like God’s, cannot be easily pinned down, named, or described clearly. 

For LGBTQ+ people, this process is especially difficult as we live within a culture and a church which place binaries around gender and sexual expression. These restrictions make it difficult for anyone and everyone to live into their full selves–the selves God created us to be. However, we each have an intersecting space within ourselves wherein we meet the mystery of our faith.  As Jesus said, “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.” 

This space, where Jesus remains in us and us in Him, allows us to experience the love He has for us and in turn shine that love forward. It is in this space that we become attuned to our vocation, the expression of God that we shine to the world. We also must grow and learn with our communities along the way, while we cultivate this inner space. 

I have found this space not in the physical realm but in moments wherein I have felt in tune with my identity and Jesus’ presence in the world. These experiences have often occurred outside of the liturgy, but in turn allow me to more deeply participate in the Eucharist. Allow me to share a couple recent experiences with you to illustrate this. 

As I biked to Mass a couple weeks ago I found myself alongside a car for a few blocks. The driver was listening to “Nothing Compares” by Sinéad O’Connor, loud enough for me to also listen as I pedaled. I had just been learning more about Sinéad, of her tireless efforts to uplift and speak to the suffering of the world through her music. She was clearly in touch with and constantly struggling with how to share God’s love with the world. As I listened to the song and the driver singing along, I experienced a  joy that led me to further ponder how to share such raw honesty and how to speak the truth so clearly, as Sinéad did throughout her life. 

In a second example,  I’ve been spending time this summer helping to  grow a beautiful garden on the  hot NYC roof of Maryhouse, a Catholic Worker community. I have the joy of wateringit and harvesting it to add to the meals we cook to serve the local community. I am amazed each time I see that a tomato has turned green, or that more Kale is ready to harvest, or I learn that what I previously thought was a weed is actually a delicious green! As I care for the garden, it too cares for me by providing abundance for our community to take, and to eat. Here too, through the garden, I am witness to Jesus remaining within me, and I in Him. 

While perhaps we can never fully “understand” the Eucharist, we can certainly live into the mystery of Christ through being in touch with the mystery within ourselves and within the world. 

—Liam Myers, August 18, 2024