The Real Presence
See first: The Eucharist.
The objections to the Eucharist come down to two: the real presence is not read in Scripture, bread and wine being only symbols; or the Mass and adoration offend the unique sacrifice of Christ. Each gives way as soon as one looks closely at what Jesus says and what he does.
“This is my body,” in the proper sense
It is objected that Christ’s words are an image, as when he calls himself the door or the vine: “this is my body” would mean “this represents my body.” But Scripture closes that way. At Capernaum, Jesus announces that he will give his flesh to eat, and his hearers take his words in the proper sense. “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” John 6:52 Far from correcting what they take literally, he affirms it more strongly. “If you do not eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.” John 6:53 The verb he then uses is no longer merely to eat, but to gnaw, to chew: the Greek word trōgō (τρώγω) denotes the concrete act of grinding with the teeth. When he calls himself the door or the vine, no one is scandalised, because the image is understood of itself; here, the scandal costs him disciples. “From that moment, many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him.” John 6:66 He lets them go, without a word that would reduce everything to a figure. On the evening of the Supper, he says at last how this flesh is eaten. “This is my body… This is my blood, the blood of the covenant, poured out for the many for the forgiveness of sins.” Matthew 26:26-28
“The flesh profits nothing”
It is objected that Jesus himself undoes the carnal sense of his words. “It is the Spirit that gives life, the flesh is of no avail.” John 6:63 But this sentence cannot mean the flesh of Christ, for he has just said that this flesh, given for the life of the world, procures eternal life. “The bread that I will give is my flesh, given for the life of the world.” John 6:51 The flesh of Christ, delivered on the Cross, saves the whole world: far from “profiting nothing,” it is what gives life. The Greek word rendered “flesh,” sarx (σάρξ), here denotes the carnal way of judging, that of the man who stops at what his eyes see and refuses what surpasses him. John uses it elsewhere in the same sense, on the lips of Christ addressing the Pharisees. “You judge in a merely human way.” John 8:15 “The Spirit that gives life” is the Holy Spirit, without whom the sacrament would remain without fruit. Far from reducing his words to an image, Christ warns that they must receive them in a spiritual understanding.
More than a remembrance
It is objected that Christ asked only for a memorial, “in memory of me,” and that there would be in it only a remembrance, not a presence. But the memorial, in Scripture, is not confined to recalling the past: the Passover that Israel ate made present, to each generation, the deliverance from Egypt. The very word Christ uses says it: in memory of me. “Do this in memory of me.” Luke 22:19 The Greek term anamnēsis (ἀνάμνησις), which renders the Hebrew zikkaron (זכרון) of the Passover, does not denote the recollection of one absent but the act that makes the event present to those who celebrate it. The Eucharist makes present what it recalls, and Paul attests it in terms that exclude the mere symbol. “Therefore, whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord unworthily is guilty of the body and blood of the Lord.” 1 Corinthians 11:27 One does not profane a sign; one profanes a presence. So he warns the one who would approach without recognising this body. “Whoever eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks his own condemnation.” 1 Corinthians 11:29 Paul goes further still. “The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a communion in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a communion in the body of Christ?” 1 Corinthians 10:16 The Greek word rendered “communion,” koinōnia (κοινωνία), means a real participation: the one who drinks takes part in the very blood of Christ, not in its image.
One single sacrifice, made present
It is objected that Christ offered himself once for all, and that the Mass, by claiming to offer him again, adds to a finished sacrifice. But the Mass does not repeat the Cross and adds nothing to it: it makes present the one sacrifice, offered a single time on Calvary. The “once for all” of the letter to the Hebrews does not condemn the Mass, it founds it: what it excludes is a new and different offering, not the presence of the one. “For by a single offering he has made perfect forever those whom he sanctifies.” Hebrews 10:14 And if Scripture adds that there is no longer any offering to present, it is that no other sacrifice is to be sought: “Now where there is forgiveness of these, there is no longer any offering for sin.” Hebrews 10:18 The Mass seeks no other; it makes that one present. And this offering is not an act closed in the past: in heaven Christ stands before the Father as the Lamb at once slain and living, ever offered. “a Lamb standing, as though slain.” Revelation 5:6 The victim is the same, the priest is the same, Christ; only the manner changes: once in blood and death, today under the species of bread and wine. Scripture foretold this offering spread among the nations. “In every place incense is offered to my name, and a pure offering.” Malachi 1:11 And the letter to the Hebrews recognises that the Church has an altar of its own, distinct from the old worship. “We have an altar from which those who serve the tent have no right to eat.” Hebrews 13:10 The tent is the sanctuary of the Old Covenant, where Israel rendered its worship. The Christian, for his part, has his altar. Now an altar is made for a sacrifice: the Mass is that one sacrifice, not another.
Adoring Christ, not the bread
It is objected at last that to adore the host is to adore bread, and to fall into idolatry. Everything depends on what the host is. If the bread remained bread, to adore it would indeed be idolatry; but if Christ is really present in it, body, blood, soul and divinity, through the change of the whole substance that the Church calls transubstantiation, the adoration does not go to the bread, it goes to him. The question of idolatry therefore comes down to that of the real presence, already settled by his words. His words were indeed received thus from the earliest days of the Church. Around the year 107, Ignatius of Antioch, disciple of the apostles and martyr, reproaches certain heretics for abstaining from the Eucharist because they do not confess that it is the flesh of our Saviour Jesus Christ, the flesh that suffered for our sins and that the Father raised. The real presence is therefore no late invention: it is the faith of the Church of the martyrs, contemporary with the apostles. Before him present, to refuse adoration would be the only fault. One does not adore the sign, but the one it makes present.