Do what in remembrance of whom?

Believing in transubstantiation is a stretch for me. It's tempting to treat this doctrine as one of those that I simply take on faith. After an, I suppose I could live out the rest of my mortal days without worrying much about it either way. If barbarians were going door-to-door ready to murder people who claimed belief in the Real Presence, the whole topic would grow in urgency. But living in the U.S. in the 1990s, the question of transubstantiation is surely not a matter of life or death. Or is it?

"I am the way, the truth, the life."

There's a small voice in my head that chimes in when I hear religious pronouncements such as the doctrine of the Real Presence. While the rest of me is nodding solemnly, the little voice squawks up, "Well, who said?" and "Just what do you mean by that?" This voice has served me well. It's driven me to hunt for buried treasure. My sense is that there's great treasure buried in the mysterious doctrine of the Real Presence.

And so, being a pragmatic American, I ask the bottom-line questions. What are the results of going to Communion? What is the effect of coming into such intimate contact with this Real Presence?

The first thing that normally happens during the prayers leading to the Consecration is that I become aware of my great need for God. I recognize I'm not the one in charge, and that, of and by myself, I can bollix things up pretty thoroughly. "Seek ye first the Kingdom of God."

I also get healed. A few years back, a very holy parish priest set the "prayer of the faithful" free. He turned it over to the faithful and the struggling-to-be-faithful. He invited people in the downstairs' chapel Mass on Sundays to voice their prayers and their concerns out loud. It started slow but soon this practice became a very powerful moment in the weekly liturgy. I came to realize just how much pain, concern, and worry was scattered around me in the pews. When I watched these same people stream up to Communion, I had the image that they were dragging their sorrows with them. As they approached Father Ray, they would drop their burdens and open their hands to receive the Lord. "O Lord, I don't feel worthy to receive you. Say only the word and I shall be healed." And, "My yoke is easy, my burden is light."

Next, I realize my great hunger and thirst for God. "As a deer yearns for running water, so my soul thirsts for you, O God." In the busyness of the week, I can confuse t hunger with other appetites. Receiving the Host and drinking from the cup feeds me deeply in my heart and my soul.

Going to Communion makes me question my perceptions of what is real. Often modern society acts as though a thing's not real unless you can put a price tag on it. The freely given gift of Christ's own self I receive in Communion makes me question my own values and the values of the world I am immersed in. I remember to value intangibles, such as my own real presence to my children, my wife, my neighbors. I see my work as based in service, not control.

What happens when I go to Mass and Communion? I realize my need. I get nourishment. I get healed. I become more loving. I find the strength I need. It sounds to me like a description of what happened when Jesus was alive. Hmm ...

People say you are what you eat. I can only hope that might be true with the Eucharist. To become like Jesus, who loved and healed and sought the truth and was faithful, is beyond our wildest imaginings. It's as wild a hope as to think Jesus remains present to us in the disguise of thin bread and common table wine.