So far in this series we’ve examined the “what” and the “why” of our fundamental Catholic belief in the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. This month we examine the “how.” 

 

Christians have always and everywhere believed that the Eucharist changes somehow — that it ceases to be bread and wine and takes on a new reality. 

 

How this happens began to be formally understood more and more in the twelfth century by an Italian priest and theologian, Orlando Bandinelli, who would eventually become Pope Alexander III. 

 

The fourth Lateran Council in 1215 enshrined the doctrine of transubstantiation as a way to precisely explain the change that takes place in the bread and wine. It is not a concept invented in 1215, but an explanation of how the change takes place, which Christians had always and everywhere believed. 

 

The explanation draws upon an Aristotelian understanding of reality itself. Aristotle taught that everything in existence possesses a substance and accidents. 

 

â–º Substance is the thing about a thing that makes the thing what the thing is.

 

â–º Accidents are things about a thing that could change and the thing would still be the thing that the thing is (think descriptors). 

 

Allow me to explain. 

 

A chair possesses the substance “chairness.” There’s something about a chair which is simply self-evident. We understand immediately we should sit on it and not try to grill brats on it because it does not possess the substance “grillness.”

 

 The chair also possesses accidents. Maybe it’s a blue chair with no padding on the arms. It could have wheels on the bottom for easy gliding. You could reupholster the chair to make it red, or put some padding on the arms. You could change the wheels to stately lion claws at the bottom. 

 

The accidents will have changed, but the chair is still a chair. It has the same substance. 

 

It works for people too. We start out being who we are and over the course of time our accidents change. We began to look a bit different, sound a bit different, perhaps our posture changes, but we remain the same people we’ve always been. Our substance remains. 

 

The same is true for bread and wine. Bread possesses “breadness”; wine, “wineness.” They have accidents as well — white, flaky and circular. 

 

The Eucharist is the only thing that changes substance, but keeps the same accidents. 

 

If you think of a transatlantic flight, it goes across — “trans” — the Atlantic ocean. Transubstantiation is the description for something that goes across — “trans” — substance. The Eucharist no longer possesses “breadness” but now “Jesusness,” if you will. The wine is no longer wine but possesses “Bloodness.” 

 

It’s so important to be precise with our terms. We don’t receive wine at Mass or bread at Mass. We receive Jesus, truly and really, under the accidents of bread and wine. I’ve always found it very helpful to understand the “how” when encountering Christ in the Eucharist. I hope it is for you too. Adoro Te Devote!