Eating the Mystery: An Invitation to See Differently

When Jesus said, “This is my Body,” he was not only pointing to bread on a table. He was naming a truth that stretches across the whole universe: everything physical, everything material, is also spirit‑filled.

For me, this realization came alive through my conversion to the Catholic Church. The Eucharist was no longer just a ritual—it became a way of knowing, almost on a cellular level, that God’s presence saturates all of creation. The bread and wine are not magical exceptions; they open our eyes to the deeper reality that all matter is charged with divine life.

Spiritual teacher Richard Rohr has written that the Eucharist is not about exclusivity but inclusivity. It is not simply a miracle to admire, but a pattern to practice. To eat and drink the bread and wine is to participate in the mystery that the universe itself is the Body of God—both in its essence and in its suffering.

That is why Jesus did not say, “Think about this” or “Stare at this.” He said, “Eat this!” To eat is to take the mystery into ourselves, to let it move from the head into the body, from abstract thought into lived experience. Over time, in moments of vulnerability, we begin to realize: I really am what I eat. I also am the Body of Christ.

This awareness is not limited to Catholics. It is an invitation for anyone who longs to see the world differently—to recognize dignity and divine presence flowing through our bare existence, and through the existence of every person we meet. The Eucharist simply makes visible what has been true since the beginning: that we are already held in God’s life, already part of a sacred whole.

So whether you share this tradition or not, the invitation remains: keep “eating” the mystery. Let it sink into your bones, until one day you can trust that your life, too, is charged with divine presence.