Here begins the second virtue of Jesus in the Holy Eucharist: charity. St. Peter Julian Eymard, “the Apostle of the Eucharist,” relates the following concerning this most essential virtue:
His eyes express neither anger nor indignation; the look in them is one of respect for His superiors, of love for His mother and Saint Joseph at Nazareth, of goodness for His disciples, of tender compassion for sinners, and of merciful forgiveness for His enemies. His sacred lips are the throne of His charity. He opens them with modesty and gentle gravity. The Savior speaks little; never does buffoonery or raillery cross His lips; all His words, like His thoughts, are born of kindness. The expressions He uses are simple, always proper, and adapted to His listeners, who more often than not, are the poor and unlettered.
He does not shun those who hate Him. He leaves no duty undone, no truth unsaid-out of fear-to avoid contradiction or to please some influential person. He makes no hasty reproach, no personal prophesy before the time marked out by His Father. He lives in unfailing simplicity and kindness with those who He knows will abandon Him. Since the time to speak has not yet come, the future for Him is as if He did not know it.1
The hidden state of Jesus encourages my weakness. I can without fear approach Him, contemplate Him, and speak to Him. If His glory shone around, who would dare speak to Him since even the Apostles fell to the earth in fear on beholding one ray of that glory on Tabor?
Jesus veiled the power that would affright man. He veiled His sanctity, which is so sublime that it would discourage our weak virtues. The mother lisps with her little one, and puts herself within its reach to raise it in her arms; and so does Jesus make Himself little with the little in order to raise them to Himself and up to God.
Jesus hides His love, tempers it. Its ardor is such that it would consume us if we were exposed to its direct flames: “Ignis consumens est—God is a consuming fire.”
Behold how Jesus veiled encourages our weakness! What greater proof of love than this Eucharistic veil?2
The same Jesus who walked the streets of Nazareth is present before our eyes. As we gaze on the Sacred Host, we look upon the most beautiful sight this side of eternity. Should we make it to Heaven, we will see Jesus as He is. In the Eucharistic Host, Jesus’ eyes are filled with the most tender mercy and love for every person in the world, including His enemies. He looks at us with a love that is infinitely greater than any love we will experience on this earth. His eyes pierce our souls, driving away all fear, anxiety, and insecurity. Jesus speaks in the gentlest way, in a still small voice. Each time we step foot in adoration, we ought to be convinced that Jesus whispers in our ears, “Thank you for visiting me. I love you more than My own life. You are my delight. Please keep Me company for all those who offend Me.”
Jesus stoops to our level and communicates in a way we can understand Him. Jesus’ love language is unconditional love, and He seems to take more delight in imparting His love than in receiving it.
Just as He confronted the Pharisees and Sadducees about their pride and vanity, Jesus loves us too much to leave us as we are. He wants to reveal the truth about Himself and us if we dare open the ears of our hearts. Jesus wants us to be like Him by praying for our enemies. He wants us to see the world through His eyes, that is, to see the good in others. Love is the answer, not hatred or revenge. And just as Jesus was abandoned by nearly all of His Apostles on Calvary, many relatives and friends may also leave us, because the closer we come to Jesus, the less we will be esteemed in the world’s eyes.
Though we might lose many friends on earth, we will always have more friends in Heaven: the saints. In our abandonment, Jesus will never leave us, but instead will draw even nearer to us. He will permit abandonment, persecutions, and sufferings because He wants to give us more of Himself. After all, we were not created to blend in, but to stand out, and to please God alone.
Each time we encounter our Eucharistic Lord, we ought to walk away with a share of His simplicity and kindness. If Jesus is content being in the Holy Eucharist, what more do we need in this life? If Our Lord willingly shows kindness even to His enemies, so ought we to with His grace. The Holy Eucharist is meant to transform us into other Christs for the world and to help us conquer our weaknesses and sins.
1St. Peter Julian Eymard, In the Light of the Monstrance, trans. Rev. Charles De Keyser (New York: The Sentinel Press, 1947), 87-88.
2St. Peter Julian Eymard, The Real Presence (New York: Fathers of the Blessed Sacrament, 1907), 120-121.
