Some of the most beautiful Tabernacles that I have ever seen are in the form of a church. This is not a coincidence. Christ dwells really and truly in the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar, just as He dwells within the one true Church that He founded: the Catholic Church. The Catholic Church is the House of God and is the New Tabernacle of the Old Testament Temple. The Temple in the Old Testament housed the Ten Commandments of the Law within the Ark of the Covenant, Commandments given by God to Moses on Mount Sinai; the Catholic Church houses the fulfilment of that same Law: namely, Our Lord Jesus Christ. He is the true Temple, as attested to in His own words:
Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up. (Jn. 2:19)
St. John the Apostle tells us that the Temple of which Our Lord was speaking was His own Body. Thus the Body of Christ is the true Temple to which the Holy of Holies pointed in the Old Testament.
But while the Catholic Church has always (until recent decades) built beautiful Tabernacles, often ornate with gold and precious metals, to house the Real Presence of Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament, at the same time the Presence of Our Lord often remains there hidden and in quiet. If the Blessed Sacrament is the most splendid and glorious reality that we have here on earth (and it is, because it is God Himself!), then why does Christ choose to remain hidden there, such that very few recognize His true Presence among us?
The great Eucharistic priest, St. Peter Julian Eymard (known as the Apostle of the Blessed Sacrament) asks this very question and provides a beautiful meditation on the subject. In his book The Real Presence, this holy 19th-century French priest writes the following:
Why is Our Lord veiled beneath the Sacred Species in the Most Blessed Sacrament?
It is difficult to get accustomed to this hidden state of Our Lord. We must frequently insist upon this truth; for we must believe firmly and practically that although Our Lord Jesus Christ is veiled, He is really and substantially present in the Holy Eucharist. But why this silent presence, this impenetrable veil? We are often tempted to say: 'Lord, show us Thy face!'
Our Lord makes us feel His power; He draws us to Himself; He keeps us respectful; but we do not see Him. And it would be so sweet, so good to hear words from Our Lord's lips! What a consolation for us were He to show Himself! What an assurance of being His friend! For He would supposedly show Himself only to those He loves.
Well, Our Lord is more lovable when hidden than if He were to show Himself. He is more eloquent when silent than if He were to speak. And what we look upon as a punishment is an effect of His love and goodness.
Yes, if He were to show Himself as He is, we would be unhappy; the contrast of His virtues, of His glory would humiliate us. We would say: 'What! A Father so good, with children so miserable!' We would not dare approach Him or show ourselves. Now that we know only His kindness, we come at least without fear.
And everybody comes to Him. Let us suppose that Our Lord were to manifest Himself to the good only (for since His Resurrection He cannot reveal Himself to sinners). Who then would dare rank himself among the good? Who would not dread coming to church lest Jesus Christ, on not finding him good enough, would not manifest Himself to him? People would grow envious of one another. The proud alone would dare think enough of themselves to come to Our Lord. Whereas under the present order of things everyone has equal rights and can take it for granted that he is loved.
But perhaps the sight of Our Lord's glory would convert us, you might say. No, no! We cannot convert people by dazzling them. The Jews became idolaters at the foot of a flaming Sinai; the Apostles talked nonsense on Mount Thabor. We would be either frightened or elated by Our Lord's glory, but not converted. The Jewish people were afraid to come near Moses after his face shone with divine light. 'No, Lord, please remain hidden; that is better for us.' I can thus draw near to Thee and at least hope that Thou lovest me since Thou drivest me not away.
But would not the great power of His words convert us, you ask? The Jews heard Our Lord for three years; were they converted? A mere handful of them. The human words of Our Lord, those that strike the ear, will not convert us; the words of His grace will. Now, Our Lord in The Blessed Sacrament speaks to our heart, and that ought to be enough for us, for His words are real.
But if I could at least experience Our Lord's love, some of its ardent flames, perhaps I would love Him much more; they would transform my heart and set it ablaze with love, you might say. But no. We mistake feelings for love. When we ask Our Lord 'to make us love Him,' we expect Him to make us feel that we love Him. [And feeling that you love is not the same thing as loving].
In fact, it is very likely that things would come to a sorry pass were He to listen to us and make us feel His love. Love means sacrifice, the gift of our will and submission to that of God. It is not a mere feeling.
Yet, do you not feel at peace in the presence of Our Lord? That proves that you love Him. What more do you want? When two friends get together, they spend their time looking at each other and in telling their love for each other. Are they wasting their time, for their affection is not thereby increased? No. Just separate them for a while and you will see: they will think of each other and recall each other's face; they will long for each other's company. The same is true of Our Lord.
Jesus has hidden Himself in order to have us ponder over His goodness and His virtues; in order that our love might become serious, disengaged from the senses, content with the strength and peace of God.
Let us sum up what we have said. Our Saviour is really present beneath the veils of the Sacrament, but He denies us the view of His body so as to have us abide in His love, in His adorable personal presence. If He were to show Himself, or even a single ray of His glory or one trait of His adorable countenance, we would forget Him and abide in that manifestation of Himself. But He has told us His body is not our end; it is but a step to help us reach first His soul and then His divinity through His soul. We have His love to guide us thither.
This incredibly profound text by St. Peter Julian Eymard gives us so much over which to ponder. Why does Jesus hide Himself in the Most Blessed Sacrament? The reasons are myriad, some of which are covered in the above quotation.
In hiding Himself, Christ increases our desire for Him. He "teases" us, so-to-speak (though not in a malicious but a loving way), thereby drawing us closer and closer to Him. If He were to give us miraculous experiences of His presence through extraordinary manifestations and glorious apparitions, the temptation for us, fallen men, would be to attach ourselves too much to these things and to seek them out instead of seeking God Himself. A well-known Catholic principle of the interior life says the following:
We must seek the God of consolations above the consolations of God.
So Jesus hides, lest we attach ourselves too much to His exterior manifestations and prefer them to Himself.
This principle applies in a predominant way to the Holy Eucharist. Christ chooses to remain hidden in the Most Blessed Sacrament so as to draw souls to Him in a very personal and intimate way, rather than through exterior manifestations of His omnipotence. The Blessed Sacrament is, after all, the Mystery of the Cross made present upon our Altars and in our Tabernacles. And it was Christ Crucified who drew all to Himself, even more than Christ Resurrected. "When I am lifted up [exalted on the Cross], I shall draw all men to myself," Jesus said. The Cross is what attracts souls to Jesus. So too, it is the hidden and silent presence of Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament that has this power to draw souls to itself.
St. Peter Julian also says, in the above quotation, that love is not rooted in the feelings. This is a common problem, especially in today's world. We often confound feelings with true love. This is probably in large part because of our selfish way of seeing love today. Much of this is based on a romantic ideal of love as a warm and fuzzy feeling in the heart.
Jesus wants us to love Him for Himself and not for His consolations or how He makes us feel. We must be thankful to Him for His many gifts and graces; and yet, we must seek to prefer Him to any of these gifts He gives us.
The best way to grow in true love, and to overcome the idea that love is merely "what I feel" in the particular moment, is to spend time in silent Adoration before the Most Blessed Sacrament. There, in the silence of a dark, quiet church, before the red sanctuary lamp burning in front of the Tabernacle, or the presence of Our Lord exposed in the Monstrance.... there, we encounter true love. Love is the presence of God with us. And there is no more powerful experience of this Presence in this world than before the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist. In the words of a simple parishioner to the holy Curé of Ars:
I gaze upon Him, and He gazes upon me.
This is the essence of union with God: gazing upon the One whom we love and who we know loves us. Jesus hides Himself in the Blessed Sacrament so that we might seek Him more deeply there, and in seeking Him, find Him Who is love incarnate: the Eternal Love of God in human flesh.
Why hidest Thou in the Blessed Sacrament, O Lord, if not to give Thyself more completely to me?
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