The Eucharist is where divine love visits, dwells and transforms
Psst. Are you about to read this? Sometimes, when I get to the end of a magazine, I begin to lose interest. After all, isn’t the best content at the beginning? What kind of author gets relegated to the back page? Sure, some say “God saves His best for last,” but does the Diocese of La Crosse operate in the same way? Well, that’s a lot of questions, and if you’re still reading, maybe you’d prefer some sort of thesis statement now.
How about this: Achieving a better understanding of the Eucharist is guaranteed for anyone who reads this article. Crazy? Yes, but they said the same about Jesus too: “He’s out of his mind.” You see, Jesus was madly in love with you and me, and those in love often do rather unpredictable things. So, if the claim above seems crazy, know that it originates in divine love, which is found in every Catholic tabernacle around the world.
When Hearts Turn
One of the keys to understanding the Eucharist is to examine it from the perspective of change. Sometimes change is obvious. For example, water freezing or a cloud obscuring the sun are clear and evident changes. Other changes, however, are not nearly as obvious. A friend of mine, who later became a priest, was forced to attend a retreat when he was in high school. He was interiorly resentful and barely cooperated with the leaders and their instructions. But despite his best efforts to remain disengaged, God’s grace worked in his heart and changed his life.
He was never quite the same after that, although it took some people a long time to realize that he had become a different person. In religious terms, we call this a conversion—the turning of the heart toward God. Have you experienced any conversions in your life? What did they feel like?
“To live is to change; to be perfect is to have changed often.” John Henry Newman wrote these words long before he became a saint. He experienced many deep, personal and profoundly spiritual transformations, some of which were so deep that God alone saw them.
The Eucharist is somewhat similar: when the bread and wine are changed into the body and blood of Jesus Christ, it is such a deep and sublime change that our senses fail to fully grasp how and when it occurs. Thankfully, the Church often chooses to ring a bell so we know when Jesus has arrived on the altar. The Eucharist effects a true and substantial change—a sacred mystery beyond the full grasp of our senses. Chances are, if you’re the type of person who reads the last article in a Catholic magazine, you’ve already experienced some of those changes yourself.
Pilgrimage and Presence
Another aspect we should consider is the value of visiting people. Many years ago, I led a small pilgrimage in Italy, and we had the opportunity to visit the tomb of St. Augustine. He remains one of the most revered saints because of his enduring and spiritually rich autobiography, “The Confessions.” However, his tomb is not easy to find since he was moved from his native northern Africa to a small town in Pavia, Italy, many centuries ago.
On the day we planned to pray at his tomb, we encountered one obstacle after another, starting with road construction. Our window of opportunity was closing, and we had to hurry. I’m sure we made quite a sight as we sprinted from the van to the church, barely beating the porter’s attempt to lock the door.
Our time with St. Augustine’s mortal remains was personal and moving for each of us in different ways. I’ve often wondered if the saints notice when we visit them. Are they touched by our piety? God knows, we continue to be inspired by their lives, which is why we sometimes go to such great lengths to visit them. Taking the time and making the sacrifice to visit someone is central to the Eucharist, and here’s why.
He Comes to Us
God so loved the world that He sent His only Son, who remains a personal, recurring gift. A friend was learning to pray, and she was beginning to feel the reality of God and His immense love for us. She told me each time she’d start to pray, she would begin to say, “God, You’re just so good to me…,” then the tears would flow as she was overcome with emotion. What did she feel at that moment? Well, think about how you feel when someone who loves you unconditionally takes the time to visit you. It’s rather overwhelming to be genuinely loved by someone.
After my first hip surgery, a friend stopped to visit but apologized for not having much time to stay long. I told him that just his visit told me all I needed to know: he cared about me. Magnify that feeling infinitely and one begins to approach the power of the Eucharist and how Jesus takes the time to visit and spend time with us. When was the last time you spent quiet, personal time with Him?
Now that this article is waning, let’s see if I’ve saved my best for last. I recently left parish life to work at the diocesan level. If you’ve ever moved, you certainly understand the challenges this brings. Life is lonely enough as it is, and it is compounded by leaving people we’ve genuinely loved. Of all the ways to suffer, loneliness is the one that is arguably the most universal. We are homesick because we were made for communion with God in heaven. To state the obvious, this is not heaven.
In much more eloquent terms, St. Augustine captured this longing when he wrote, “Our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee.” Loneliness points to someone who is missing. For many centuries, our forebears searched for His coming and prayed that they would live to witness His arrival. We are the fortunate ones — we live in His time, for He did come, and because we asked Him to, He remains. He is here now, and He will be here tomorrow. And you can meet Him.
Jesus in the Eucharist is God’s last Word about love and life, mercy and mission. He took on our nature and made changes that give us hope and the promise of unity with Himself, His Father and all His followers. He delights in us, especially when we take the time to visit Him in church. And when we receive Him with humble and contrite hearts, He transforms us to be more like Him.
As we grow older on the outside, Jesus is the reason we can remain a child on the inside. He visits us, stays with us and changes us. Years ago, a NASA scientist witnessed the profound impact Jesus had on a man dying in hospice care. He was so moved that he decided to enter seminary and became a priest.Psst. Thanks for taking the time to read this. Let’s pray this for each other the next time we visit and receive Jesus in Holy Communion: “Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make our hearts like unto Thine.”
By Father Samuel Martin, Vicar for Clergy, Diocese of La Crosse
Published in the Fall 2025 Edition of Catholic Life Magazine