Of the Excellent and Wonderful Things That Faith Teaches for Our Belief in This Divine Sacrament

EVE are the wonderful things that faith teaches us as being wrought by the words of consecration. The first thing that we have to believe is that, as soon as the priest has done pronouncing the words of consecration over the host, there is there the true body of Christ our Redeemer, the same that was born of the virginal womb of the most holy Virgin, the same that was on the Cross and rose again, the same that now is seated on the right hand of the Father. And when the priest has done pronouncing the words of consecration over the chalice, there is there the true and Precious Blood. And supposing there to be said at the same hour all over the Church one hundred thousand Masses, in the instant in which the priest has done pronouncing the words of consecration God works this wonderful change; and in all those Masses there is the real and true body and blood of Christ our Redeemer; here they are consuming it, here they are consecrating it, but everywhere it is one and the same.

The second wonderful thing that we have to believe is that after the words of consecration there remains nor bread nor wine on the altar; although to our eyes, touch, taste, and smell, it appears to us that it does remain, yet faith tells us that it does not. The patriarch Isaac said to his son Jacob, on the occasion when, to gain the blessing and the birthright of the elder brother, Jacob had covered his hands with goatskins to resemble his brother: The woice is the voice of Jacob, but the hands are the hands of Esau (Gen. xxii. 22). So here, what we feel with our hands and touch with our senses has the appearance of bread and the appearance of wine, but the voice, that is, faith, tells us it is something else. Faith supplies the defect of the senses—praestet fides supplementum sensuum defectut. And there in the desert, the manna, the shadow and figure of this Sacrament, had also this property, that it tasted like all kinds of things——it tasted like partridge, and it was not partridge; it tasted like trout and it was not trout—so this divine manna tastes like bread, and is not bread; tastes like wine, and is not wine. In the other sacraments the matter is not changed into anything else, but the water in baptism remains water, and the oil, oil in the sacraments of confirmation and extreme unction; but in this Sacrament the matter is changed. Thus what appears bread is not bread, and what appears wine is not wine; but the substance of bread is changed and converted into the true body of Christ our Savior, and the substance of wine into His Precious Blood. St. Ambrose says very well: “He who could make something out of nothing in creating the heavens and the earth, much more should be able to make one thing into another thing and change one substance into another.” Besides, we see that the bread we daily eat is in a short time changed into our flesh by virtue of the natural heat of our body; much more should the almighty power of God be able to effect in an instant this marvelous conversion. And that by seeing one wonder we may cease to wonder at another, it is much more wonderful that God should have made Himself man without ceasing to be God, than that what was bread should cease to be bread and be converted into flesh. But by that divine power whereby the Son of God made Himself Man, by that same the bread and wine are converted into the flesh and blood of Christ; for to God nothing is impossible, as the Angel said to our Lady (Luke i. 37).

Thirdly, there is another peculiarity of this conversion, not according to the manner of other natural changes. In them, when one thing is changed into another, there remains something of the substance of the thing that is changed, since the matter remains the same and the only thing changed is the form; as when earth is changed into silver, and water into crystal. It is as when out of a little clay or wax you make once in a way a horse or a lion. But in this admirable conversion, after the consecration, there remains in the host nothing of the substance of bread; and in the chalice there remains nothing of the substance of wine, neither form nor matter, but the whole substance of bread is converted and changed into the whole body of Christ; and the whole substance of wine into His Precious Blood. And so the Church, very appropriately and rightly, as the Council of Trent declares, to signify this total conversion, calls it transubstantiation, which means the change of one substance into another. As natural generation may be properly called transformation, because in it the form is changed; so in this Sacrament the change is very rightly called transubstantiation, because the whole substance of the bread and wine is converted into the whole substance of the body and blood of Christ.

Thus there does not remain in this Sacrament anything of the substance of bread; there remains in it only color, smell, taste, and the other accidents of bread and wine, which are called “the sacramental species.” And this is another great wonder that shines forth in this Most Holy Sacrament, that these accidents are there without being in any substance or subject, whereas it is the property of accidents to be united and attached to substance, as all philosophy teaches; since whiteness clearly cannot naturally be by itself, but must be conjoined and united with some substance, and the same of taste and smell. But here, above the whole order of nature, the same accidents of bread and wine remain, being supernaturally supported by themselves, as it were in the air, since the substance of bread and wine, as we have said, is no longer there, and in the body and blood of Christ, which takes its place, those accidents cannot be; and thus God of Himself sustains and supports them by a perpetual miracle.

Further, we have to believe that in this Most Holy Sacrament, under the species and accidents of bread, there is not only the body of Christ, but the whole Christ, true God and true man, as He is in heaven. Thus in the host, along with the body, there is also the blood of Christ our Redeemer, and His most sacred soul, and His most holy divinity. In like manner in the chalice, under the species of wine, there is not only the blood of Christ, but also His body, and His soul and divinity. But theologians observe that all these things are not there for the same reason, or in the same manner; but some are in this Sacrament by virtue and efficacy of the words of consecration, others by way of concomitance or accompaniment. That is said to be in this Sacrament by virtue and efficacy of the words, which is signified and set forth by those very words of the form of consecration. And, taken in this way, there is not in the host anything more than the body of Christ, nor in the chalice anything more than the blood, because the words effect what they signify, and this is all that they signify: This is My body; This is My blood. Those things are said to be present by way of concomitance or accompaniment which are united and in company with that which is expressed and declared by the words. And since the body of Christ is not now alone, but is united with the blood and the soul and the divinity, therefore all these things also are there together in the host. And since the blood in like manner is not now by itself alone, but is united with the body and with the soul and divinity, therefore all those things are likewise in the chalice. That may be well understood by the following consideration. Divines say that, if during the three days that Christ was in the tomb St. Peter or any other of the apostles had consecrated, there would not have been in that Holy Sacrament the soul of Christ, because then the soul was not united with the body, but there would have been only the dead body, as it was in the sepulcher, although united with the divinity, because that never left it. In like manner, when Christ consecrated at the Supper on Holy Thursday, there was in the Sacrament Christ our Redeemer, true God and true man, but passible and mortal, as He then was; but now He is in the Sacrament alive, glorious and risen again, immortal and impassible as He is in heaven.

But though it is true that in the host there is the blood, and in the chalice the body of Christ our Redeemer, it is fitting none the less that the two consecrations be made separately, each by itself, for the more lively representation of the Passion and death of Christ, in which the blood was separated from the body; and thus mention of that fact is made in the words of consecration of the chalice: qui pro vobis et pro multis effundetur. Also, inasmuch as this sacrament was instituted for the nourishment and sustenance of our souls, it was fitting that it should be instituted not only as meat, but also as drink, since the perfect nourishment of the body consists of those two things. But we may draw one conclusion from this for the comfort of those who are not priests. It is that, though they do not communicate under both kinds, as they do who say Mass, but only under the species of bread—and that for many very grave reasons which the Church has found for the practice —yet in receiving in the host the body of Christ our Redeemer, they receive likewise His blood and His soul and divinity, because He is whole, entire, and perfect under each of the two species. And theologians and saints say that they receive as much grace as priests who communicate under both species, provided they approach with equal dispositions. St. Hilary says that as in the manna, which was the figure of this Most Holy Sacrament, neither he who gathered more found that he had more for that, nor he who gathered less that he had less for that, as Holy Scripture assures us (Exod. xvi. 18) ; so also in this Divine Sacrament neither he who receives under the species of bread and wine receives more for that, nor he who receives only under the species of bread receives less for that. All are equal in this particular.

Moreover, there is another great wonder in this Most High Sacrament. It is that not only is Christ whole and entire in the whole host, and whole and entire in the chalice; but in every particle of the host and in every drop of the species of wine, there is also the whole Christ, as entire as He is in the whole host and as entire as He is in heaven, however small the particle be. This is also gathered clearly from the Gospel itself; for Christ our Lord did not consecrate separately and by itself each mouthful of those with which He communicated His apostles, but He consecrated at once a certain quantity of bread, which when divided should be enough to give Communion to them all. And so of the chalice the holy Gospel says expressly that Christ gave it to His apostles, saying: Take and divide it among you (Luke xxii. 17). And not only when the host or the blood is divided, but also before the division, there is the body of Christ whole and entire in the whole host, and whole and entire in every part of it, and whole and entire in the whole species of wine, and whole and entire in every drop of the same. There are some examples and comparisons here in Nature that may serve to throw some light on this matter. Our soul, too, is whole in the whole body and whole in every part of it. My speaking voice, which is the example alleged by St. Augustine, is the whole in your ears and whole in those of all who hear me. And if you take a mirror, you will see in it your figure whole and entire, although the mirror be small, and much smaller than you. And if you divide the mirror into many parts, you will also see your figure in each part, neither more nor less than you saw it in the entire mirror. These and the like examples and comparisons are brought up by doctors and saints to illustrate these mysteries for us; and while in none of them is the comparison perfect, yet they all serve to throw light.

There is also here another mystery, that, when the host and the blood are parted and divided, the accidents of bread and wine are what is there parted and divided; but Christ is neither parted nor divided, but remains entire in every particle, however small it be. And in like manner when you divide the host in your mouth, you do not divide or diminish Christ. St. Jerome says: “What a deception and illusion of our senses! It looks as though we divide and break Thee up as we do the material bread that we eat; but the truth is that ‘we do not break or divide Thee in our mouths, but only the accidents which we see; but Thou, O Lord, remainest perfect and entire in every particle, without alteration or division, and we receive Thee entire.” So the Church sings in the ‘Lauda, Sion’:

Not a single doubt retain, When they break the Host in twain, But that in each part remain What was in the whole before; Since the simple sign alone Suffers change in state or form, The Signified remaining one.

There happens to us in this banquet the opposite of what happens in earthly feasts, in which you cut an article of food, but not the plates or containing vessel; but at this divine table it is not so: the plate and containing vessel, which are the accidents, are divided, and the food and nourishment remain entire. Moreover, at other tables you eat the meat and the food, but you do not eat the containing vessels nor the plates; but at this sovereign table we eat the food, and it is so much to our taste that we eat the plate with it.

All these things that faith teaches us we must be content for the present to believe and venerate without seeking to scrutinize them curiously. We must go ever upon this fundamental principle laid down by St. Augustine: “Let us allow that God can do something which we must confess that we cannot search into”—Demus aliquid Deum posse quod nos fateamur illud investigare non posse. As the saints well say, the things of God would not be great if our understanding and reason were able to comprehend them (A Kempis, iv. 18). Thus it is the merit of faith to believe what we do not see. And there is something even special about the mysteries of this Most Holy Sacrament, which there is not in the other mysteries of faith; that in the others we believe what we do not see—a praiseworthy thing certainly: Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed (John xx. 29)—but in this we have not only to believe what we do not see, but contrary to what it seems we do see, because to our senses it seems that there is bread and wine here, and we have to believe that there is not. The faith that we hold about this mystery is like to that which Abraham had, whom St. Paul so much extols, who “hoped against all hope’—contra spem in spem credidit (Rom. iv. 18). Supernatural hope overcame the natural distrust which came of what his eyes saw. He believed and hoped that he should have a son, contrary to all that natural hope could promise him, for naturally that could not be, since he and his wife were far advanced in years. And afterwards, when he was ready to sacrifice this son as God had commanded him, he still believed that the Lord must surely fulfil the promise that He had made of multiplying his posterity through that very son. So in this Divine Sacrament we believe the contrary of what all our senses naturally tell us, and thus our belief is highly meritorious. God said to His people: In the morning ye shall eat bread, and in the evening I will give you flesh (Exod. xvi. 12). The morning is this present life: God gives Himself to us under the appearance of bread and wine; but at evening-tide, whereby is signified the glory of heaven, you shall see the flesh of Christ and understand clearly how and in what manner it is there; the veil shall drop, the curtains shall rise, and we shall see all these things clearly.

Many and well authenticated are the miracles that we might allege in confirmation of what we have said. Writings of the saints and histories are full of them; but I mean to quote only one, which is related in the chronicle of the Order of St. Jerome. A religious named Friar Peter de Cavanhuclas, who was afterwards Prior of Guadalupe, was much assailed by temptations against faith, especially regarding the Holy Sacrament of the altar; his thought kept saying to him, how could it be that there was blood in the host. The Lord vouchsafed to deliver him from this temptation in a wonderful manner, which was that, when he was saying one Saturday the Mass of our Lady, after he had consecrated, and was bowing down to say the prayer which begins Supplices te rogamus, he saw a cloud descending from on high and enveloping the whole altar where he was saying Mass, so that he could see neither host nor chalice for the darkness of the cloud. He was much frightened at this occurrence and full of great terror at the sight which met his eyes. So he begged the Lord with many tears to be pleased to deliver him from this danger and show why it had happened. While he was thus in tears and great alarm, little by little the cloud disappeared, and the altar stood out entire. And looking at the altar, he saw that the consecrated host was gone, and the chalice was uncovered and empty, because the blood also had been taken away from it. So great was his astonishment and fear at this sight that he was like a dead man; and, coming to himself, he began with great grief of heart, and shedding many tears from his eyes, to ask once more our Lord, and his most holy Mother whose Mass he was saying, to forgive him if this had happened through any fault of his, and deliver and draw him out of so great a danger. While he was in this perplexity, he saw the host coming in the air, resting on a paten shining with light, and placing itself over the mouth of the chalice; and thereupon there began to ooze out of it drops of blood, and trickle down within the chalice, and the quantity that came out was the same as that which had been there before. And when the blood had ceased flowing, the pall or fold of the corporal came to put itself once more over the chalice, and the host came to be in its place on the altar as it was before. The priest stood amazed to see such great mysteries; and, not knowing what to do, he heard a voice saying to him: “Finish thy duty, and let all that thou hast seen be kept secret;” and from that time onward he never felt the temptation any more. The acolyte, or server, who served the Mass, saw none of these things, nor heard he the voice, but noticed the priest’s tears and how he took much longer over the Mass than usual. All the above narrative was found after his death in a paper written with his own hand, folded in his general confession, which he did as a sign of the secret which he had been bidden to keep.