Ask most practicing Catholics whether Jesus offers Himself to us in the Eucharist, and I imagine they’d say “yes.” It is true, in a certain sense: Jesus does give Himself to us in the Eucharist. In this sacrament, we receive His Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity – which is to say, all of Him. The very reason many people go to Mass is in order to receive Jesus. But there is another very important sense in which it is not true to say Jesus offers Himself to us: that is the sense of the Eucharist as a sacrifice.
Quoting “Sacrosanctum Concilium,” the Catechism of the Catholic Church states that Jesus “instituted the Eucharistic sacrifice … to perpetuate the sacrifice of the cross throughout the ages” (CCC 1323). The Eucharist is thus inextricably bound up with the crucifixion, which Christians universally recognize as a sacrifice made by Christ to God the Father for our salvation.
Speaking of the crucifixion, St. Paul implores Christian disciples to imitate God and to “live in love, as Christ loved us and handed Himself over for us as a sacrificial offering to God for a fragrant aroma” (Eph 5:2). St. Paul understands Christ’s sacrifice as being offered “to God” and “for us.” On the cross, Jesus is not only the sacrificial victim but is Himself the High Priest offering the sacrifice.
This gets to the heart of priesthood. Many of us today have a weakened imagination when it comes to what a priest is and does. We think of our priests as men who run the parish, study the Bible, teach the faith, preach sermons and pray with us in our time of need. These are all very important things that priests indeed do, but none of them defines what a priest is.
The fundamental concept of priesthood runs deeper than this. A priest is a person who approaches God to offer sacrifice on behalf of the people. All other pastoral responsibilities flow outward from that.
We find the priests of ancient Israel acting in this way throughout the Old Testament. The books of Leviticus and Deuteronomy are full of liturgical instruction dictating how the priests were to offer sacrifices to God for the good of the people of Israel.
There were sacrifices of thanksgiving, sacrifices of praise and sacrifices of atonement. There were sacrifices of incense and cereal grains, but most typical were the animal sacrifices: a living creature giving its life for the sanctification of others.
None of these sacrifices was for God’s benefit. The Creator of the universe already owns the universe and everything in it (see Ps 50:10). We can’t give God anything that isn’t already His. The purpose of the sacrifice was to offer back to God a portion of the blessing He has given to us, so that we might receive an even greater share of God’s grace.
This works because by offering the gift of a worthy sacrifice to God, we participate more fully in the life of God who is Love, and whose essence is therefore self-gift. Since everything God does is an act of gift, we become more like God by offering gifts, especially the gift of ourselves.
What I’m saying here is that while God doesn’t benefit from our sacrifices, we do. That’s why we say they are offered to God, but for us.
The quintessential sacrifice of Israel coincided with the annual Passover festival commemorating the freeing of Israel from bondage in Egypt. The final plague that convinced Pharaoh to evict Israel from his land was the death of the first born. To be spared this death, the Israelites were instructed to sacrifice an unblemished lamb to God. But to benefit from the sacrifice, the people also had to consume the flesh of the lamb and mark their doorposts with its blood. The flesh and blood of the sacrificial lamb caused the angel of death to pass over the houses of the Hebrews, thus saving them.
The Last Supper, at which Jesus instituted the Eucharist, was a Passover meal. Having celebrated this yearly feast their whole lives, the Apostles would have immediately noticed the absence of the sacrificial lamb. Just as Isaac asked his Father centuries earlier, they may have been wondering, “Where is the lamb for the sacrifice?” (Gen 22:7).
And just as Abraham prophetically answered his son, “God Himself will provide a lamb” (Gen 22:8).
Jesus does something new
In the context of this ritual, sacrificial meal, our Lord does something new. He takes the bread, blesses it, breaks it and gives thanks, saying, “This is My body which is given up for you” (Lk 22:19): given to God; given for us. And just like the Passover lamb of Exodus, this sacrifice must be consumed for us to benefit by it. By consuming the sacrificial offering, we ourselves participate in that offering.
This is reflected in the liturgical prayers of the Mass. For example, in the third Eucharistic Prayer, the priest prays, “Look, we pray, upon the oblation of your Church and, recognizing the sacrificial Victim by whose death You willed to reconcile us to Yourself, grant that we, who are nourished by the Body and Blood of your Son and filled with His Holy Spirit, may become one body, one spirit in Christ. May He make of us an eternal offering to You.”
When we understand the Eucharist to be not just Jesus’ gift of Himself to us, but rather the gift of Himself to the Father for us, it changes how we perceive our role in the Mass.
When you and I receive Christ in the Eucharist, we participate in the one perfect sacrifice of Christ the Savior (CCC 1330).
You can consider it this way: In the Eucharist, God offers the sacrifice, God receives the sacrifice, and God is the sacrifice. The whole of Christian worship is essentially a divine act in which you and I undeservedly get to participate through the mediation of Jesus Christ, who gives Himself as a spotless offering to the Father for us, for our sanctification and for our salvation.
Deacon Matthew Newsome, Catholic campus minister at Western Carolina University and regional faith formation coordinator for the Smoky Mountain Vicariate, is the author of “The Devout Life: A Modern Guide to Practical Holiness with St. Francis de Sales,” available from Sophia Institute Press.
BALTIMORE — The ancient Christian tradition of marking doorways with blessed chalk on the feast of the Epiphany will carry new meaning for many Catholics in 2021.
Following a year that saw families shaken by the coronavirus pandemic, the traditional home blessing will serve as a special symbol of hope and a visible reminder of faith.
"Many have fought COVID-19 and lived to tell about it," said Michael Carnahan, a parishioner of Sacred Heart of Mary Church in Baltimore, who has practiced the chalk blessing since he was a child.
"However, many people have suffered the loss of a loved one to this virus. The chalk, along with other symbols, will be an even stronger reminder of how important God is to us and of what an important factor Jesus is in our daily lives," he said.
The blessing, popular in Poland and other Slavic countries, has spread to many parts of the world. It takes place on the liturgical feast marking the visitation of the Magi to the Christ Child and the revelation that Jesus is the son of God.
The blessing involves taking simple chalk, usually blessed by a parish priest, and scrawling doorways with symbolic numbers and letters -- this year: "20+C M B 21."
The numbers represent the current year and the letters stand for the first letters of the traditional names of the magi: Caspar (sometimes spelled "Kaspar"), Melchior and Balthazar. The letters are also an abbreviation for "Christus Mansionem Benedicat," Latin for "May Christ bless this dwelling."
Participants typically read passages from the New Testament and may sing Epiphany hymns.
Carnahan, along with his wife, Malgorzata Bondyra, and their five children, plan to take part in the tradition this Epiphany, which is observed in the United States this year from Jan. 3-8. Of Polish background, they will say the blessing in Polish and English.
"We will use this as an opportunity to remember that living a Christ-like existence on a daily basis is important to all," Carnahan said. "Just as we took for granted our health and safety as a society, we are reminded of how we might sometimes take for granted the sacrifice Jesus made for all of us."
2021 won't be the first time the blessing has taken on extra meaning. Under Soviet-dominated Poland, for example, Catholics viewed the blessing as a means of spiritual resistance.
"During communist times, Polish people would use the chalk and other symbols as a statement of their beliefs and as an indication that communism can't take away their faith," said Carnahan, a longtime member of the Polish dance ensemble, Ojczyzna, based at Holy Rosary Church in Baltimore. "It sometimes would lead to trouble for them, but ultimately it was a way to be defiant while also being true to their faith."
Will and Amy Buttarazzi, parishioners of St. Joseph Church in Cockeysville, Maryland, have also practiced the chalk blessing at their home with their eight children. As the director of family ministry at their parish, Amy Buttarazzi encourages other families to adopt the practice. She made a video about the tradition and provided written instructions.
She remembers her elementary school, the School of the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen in Baltimore, maintaining the tradition when she was growing up.
"Our principal would bless all the doors of the school building every year after we returned from Christmas break," she said. "The blessing would be written on a sentence strip and taped to the top frame of each door in the building. Now, as a mom, I wanted to continue this tradition in my own home with my children."
The Buttarazzis write their Epiphany blessing above the door of their dining room, while Carnahan and his family write it above their front door, outside.
Carnahan noted that the magi traveled far, having faith they would find the infant Jesus. They did so knowing his mission, he said.
"The chalk is a daily visual symbol for us," Carnahan said, "just like seeing the crucifix hanging on the wall, helping us to keep within us thoughts of grace, love, peace, happiness, forgiveness and more."
— George P. Matysek Jr., Catholic News Service
A guide for doing a chalk blessing at home: bitly.com/chalkblessing
Pictured: An incensing and chalking all of the doors at St. Mark Church, St. Mark School and Christ the King High School was held Jan. 4, 2020. (Photo provided by Amy Burger)