The Holy Eucharist is often described as a sacrifice, as a meal, and as a presence. Certainly, we all know that the Eucharist was instituted shortly before Jesus was to make the ultimate sacrifice, giving up His life for us. What we often don’t realize is that He had been sacrificing for much of His life. Being born in a cave, or a stable as it is sometimes described, was surely a sacrifice for the King of All Creation. It was the way He chose to start His life in poverty to show us that the poor have value far beyond the value of the material things we often seem to value more than human life. It was surely a sacrifice for God to be born of a human being, as magnificent as His mother was. 

We don’t know much about Jesus’ early life since there is nothing recorded in Scripture until He was twelve years old, not even a man yet. You may never have thought about Jesus making a sacrifice to go to the temple in Jerusalem and converse with the wise leaders of the Jewish faith. And yet, He stayed in the Temple, surely knowing His parents would be looking for Him. He gave up the comfort of being with His family, in order to teach the leaders of that faith, that the Messiah had indeed come and was right in front of their eyes. 

His sacrifices are well-noted when He reaches the age of thirty and begins His public ministry. He leads the twelve on some pretty rough trips, across the countryside and even into foreign territory. Think about this for a minute. He and His apostles and disciples traveled on foot most of the time. They had very few changes of clothing, and most likely had a hard time finding a place to bathe or wash their clothes. They may not have smelled too good! When they were lucky enough to find someone to take them in, it likely wasn’t exactly a five-star hotel. And when He did stop in a town for a while, what did He do? He preached for hours on end, He healed all who came or were brought to Him. He sacrificed being at home with his mother and Joseph, who could have taught Him to make a decent living as a carpenter. He also sacrificed respect in many instances, when people threatened to drive him off a cliff or out of town, who refused to listen to Him. I think what must have hurt most of all of this, and probably still hurts Jesus today, was people refusing to accept His love.

So yes, He sacrificed much in His lifetime, but the ultimate sacrifice was yet to come. And what did He do when He was facing a horrifying death? He brought His closest friends together and gave Himself in the sacrifice of the Eucharist. He clearly said, “This is My Body you eat, this is My Blood you drink.” The ultimate sacrifice not just for those gathered with Him that night, but for all eternity.

How do we accept this great sacrifice? Do we come to the altar prepared to receive the ultimate sacrifice? Do we feel His sacrifice, taste His sacrifice, in the form of the bread and wine that has now become His Body and Blood? Do we feel His Real Presence when we swallow the Eucharist; do we feel it penetrating every inch of our body? Do we know that we are now part of His Body? I know personally that a little exercise that I do after I get back to my seat after receiving the Holy Eucharist is to meditate on the Crucifix and think about what part of Jesus’ Body have a been absorbed into. I know, of course, that I am part of His entire Body, but there is always something reassuring knowing that today I feel like I am especially a part of His feet, called to go forth and tell the good news; or today I am part of His ribs that protect His Sacred Heart; or perhaps I am part of His knees which were bloodied by His falls on the way to Golgotha; or maybe part of His lips that kissed the leper clean.

Do we feel in communion with all our brothers and sisters gathered at this great sacrifice? Do we come prepared to take this sacrifice into the world, to love our brothers and sisters as ourselves? Someone once said the most important sign in the church is the Exit sign, because it tells us to go take what we have experienced into the world. I think of this every time I leave church through the exit doors. 

Read about this and more in my latest book, Three Mountains, A Road, and a Well, inspired by Brother Augustine Jewell, a Franciscan Brother.