Solemnity of Corpus Christi, Cycle A (2026)

Most of you are aware that I am a convert to Catholicism. So, what’s at the core of today’s solemnity was not a part of any experience I had attending Sunday church services. Nobody ever suggested to me that the wafers and tiny glasses of juice that were being passed from person to person in the pews were sacred and certainly not that it was Jesus himself.

I’m sure I’ve shared at some point, that although I accompanied others to Catholic Mass a handful of times in my life, in every experience of it, I was less moved by the experience than I was confused. It wasn’t until I was well into my adult years, having recently gone through some years of conversion, and as part of it, having dug deeply into the Bible, front to back, its words beginning to come to life within me.

It was later, that I was again invited to Mass. Then, I saw it differently. And although so much of the Mass was unfamiliar—the responses, the postures—I could see that there was something intimate and meaningful going on. I wanted to experience it again and kept coming back.

As it was for me, experiencing the Mass for the first time tends to be a bit bewildering. Because we can be so familiar to us that we maybe sleepwalk through Mass, perhaps it would be good for each of us to try to imagine what it’s like to be totally unfamiliar with what we are doing, yet with eyes open and a curious mind, trying to gather it all in and understand its meaning.

Perhaps as much as anything, one would notice how, like a story that builds up to a climax, it reaches a point where clearly the primary focus comes to be directed on a tiny circle of bread. And as one observes, they see people kneeling, and that the presider holds up the white circle before them, indicating the considerable importance it bears.

And then, in a very reverent manner, the people process forward, each bowing before it, receiving it in way that indicates it’s something more precious than just a circle of bread. After receiving it, the people return to their seats and close their eyes or sing. “What is it”, a close observer would surely wonder, “that is so special about this odd circle of bread? What am I missing?”

Yes, there’s much more to it than just bread, and I suspect the depths of it often eludes our consciousness. So let us consider:

• It is mystery, as though something as grand as the universe is packed within, and yet it comes to us in such a simple and humble manner;

• It is a gift beyond your deserving, yet God in His mercy desires to give to you;

• It is not a reward for virtue, yet you can only draw from its grace to the extent you desire virtue;

• It is the fruit of great pain and suffering, but more, the fruit of great love and joy;

• It is the surest way for the heaven God desires for you, yet it requires that you also desire heaven.

That small circle of bread—Jesus’ Body—is the climax of what we’re doing. It is God who comes to us, if only we desire for Him to dwell in us.