Of all the gifts that God has given his Church, the greatest is without question the Blessed Sacrament, for it is nothing less than the body, blood, soul and Divinity of Jesus himself. In the Eucharistic host, our Divine Savior dwells among men in his fullness. He is truly God with us—what could be greater than this?
If the Blessed Sacrament is Jesus himself, and holiness is found in imitating Christ, then the Blessed Sacrament is a school of holiness. Today, I want to spend a few moments reflecting on the characteristics of Jesus in the Eucharist and what his presence can teach us about both holiness and masculinity.
In the Blessed Sacrament, we see the profound humility of Jesus Christ. Here, the Eternal Wisdom of God who made all things, the brightness of the Eternal Father, condescends to come among us in the form of the most ordinary food. After all, bread is simple fare, the food of the poor. Unlike a fine cut of meat, bread is almost always eaten as a side that is hardly noticed.
If we are to imitate Christ, we must first and foremost practice humility. The servant is not greater than his Master. We must be content to be unnoticed, unpraised, and unappreciated. We must give all glory to God, choosing to be humble and unassuming—like a piece of bread.
Men have always cherished quiet strength, strength that is demonstrated more by deeds than empty words. In the Eucharistic host, Jesus greets us with complete silence. He is ready to listen to all that we have to say, and he only speaks in return when we have quieted our hearts and are completely silent as he is. And finally, he is ready to act on our behalf if we only have confidence in his promises.
The saints constantly praise the virtue of silence, and we are warned that we will be judged for every idle word. Do we waste words? More than this, do we hear what others are saying? As men, we often struggle to listen, and yet listening is an act of love. Listen to your wife or those others around you who may be desperate for someone to pay attention.
Almost every Eucharistic miracle on record has the host turning into the flesh of a human heart. This is not random. In the Blessed Sacrament, Christ’s beating heart burns with love for us, and he longs for our love in return. On the cross, Christ literally died of a broken heart for love of sinful humanity, pouring out his precious blood to win our affection. Yes, more than anything, it is love that Jesus desires most from those whom he has redeemed, and if he could have done anything more to secure it, he would have done so.
Do you love Christ? If so, you will obey him and carry your cross after him. You will imitate him by laying down your life for others in sacrificial love.
In the host, Christ is completely and totally vulnerable. Far too often, he is mistreated and abused, ignored and maligned, treated casually and without dignity. Yet, this is the price he willing to pay to live among his people. No matter how many times he is profaned and trampled upon, literally or figuratively, he continues to come to us again and again, saying “I will never leave you or forsake you.”
Do we love in this way? Do we open our hearts to others, even though it may mean the pain of rejection? Do we forgive 70 times 7? We cannot love if we close our hearts in fear. We must be courageously vulnerable—like Christ.