12/06/2026
A Sermon for Corpus Christi 2026
Lord, may we become what we receive, in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Today, on this great feast of Corpus Christi, we pause to give thanks for the astonishing gift Christ has placed at the heart of the Church: the Holy Eucharist, the place where heaven bends low to meet earth, and where God gives Himself—whole and entire—to His people. In John 6, Jesus says, “I am the living bread that came down from heaven… my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink.” It’s one of those moments where Jesus doesn’t soften the message, doesn’t wrap it in metaphor, doesn’t tidy it up. He simply gives Himself.
And St Paul, in 1 Corinthians 11, hands on what he himself received: “This is my body… this is my blood.” Not “this represents,” not “this symbolises,” but this is. The early Church never doubted it. As St Augustine put it, “Behold what you are; become what you receive.” That’s the Eucharist: Christ giving Himself so that we might become His Body in the world.
And long before Jesus walked the earth, we see a mysterious foreshadowing in Genesis 14, where Melchizedek, priest of God Most High, brings out bread and wine and blesses Abraham. The first priestly offering of bread and wine in Scripture—pointing forward to the One who would take bread and wine and make them His very self.
Now, let’s talk about meetings. We all know meetings. Some are necessary. Some are helpful. And some… well, some seem to exist purely to justify their own existence. You know the kind. You walk out thinking, “What exactly did we just accomplish?” Meetings can so easily drift from purpose to process, from mission to maintenance. They can become places where our own agendas, our egos, our desire to be heard or to be right, quietly take over.
But the Church has one meeting that never loses its purpose. One meeting that never drifts. One meeting where the agenda is always clear. One meeting where the focus is never lost. And that meeting is the Holy Eucharist—the place where we come not to push our ideas, but to receive God’s life; not to wrestle for control, but to surrender; not to be seen, but to see God.
It does mean letting go of the ego and self-centredness, bitterness and ill-intent. It certainly means taking steps to avoid slander, divisiveness, thinking unkind thoughts and doing unkind things. It means allowing yourself to become more Christ-like and letting go of those barriers that stop Christ from entering. What we say and do matters. Darkness damages the soul. Light transforms it. That light is Christ.
If you really want to grow in love, come back to the Eucharist. If you desire that deep down transformation only Christ can give, come back to that Adoration, wonder and awe that you first felt upon receiving this the precious Body of our Lord. The Eucharistic Christ is and must always be at the very heart of our faith and of our lives.
So, if there is one meeting we must always show up for, it is this one. Because here, Christ Himself shows up for us.
Hans Urs von Balthasar once wrote, “The Eucharist is the event in which God’s love becomes bodily.” That’s why this meeting matters. Because God is here. Really here.
The Church has always proclaimed that Jesus is truly present in the Eucharist. The Apostles, St Paul, the Early Church Fathers, the Reformers – Archbishop Thomas Cramner, even John Calvin, all believed that. It’s not just a symbol, a memory, a quirky spiritual idea. It is Jesus Himself. Body, blood, soul, and divinity. Every time we partake of the Eucharist, we are fed by Christ himself.
St Thomas Aquinas said, “In this sacrament, Christ’s true body is present.” He wasn’t trying to be poetic. He was stating a fact of faith.
And because Jesus is present, we adore Him—just as the shepherds adored Him in the manger of Bethlehem. The same Jesus who lay in the straw now lies upon the altar. The same Jesus who radiated divine love in Bethlehem radiates divine love in the Host. The same Jesus who drew the humble and the seeking draws us still.
When we kneel before the Eucharist, we kneel before the One who feeds us, nurtures us, deepens us, heals us. We kneel before the One who knows us better than we know ourselves. We kneel before the One who says, “This is my body, given for you.”
And because the Eucharist is the place where heaven meets earth, it’s good to remember that God delights in our humanity—including our humour. So here’s a joke:
A priest gets pulled over for drink driving. The officer asks, “Have you been drinking, Father?”
The priest replies, “No, officer, I’ve had nothing but water.”
The officer looks over and sees a half drunk bottle of wine on the passenger seat. “Father,” he says, “what about that?”
The priest looks across, gasps and says, “O my word… He’s done it again!”
Even in our laughter, we remember: Christ is the One who transforms.
The Eucharist is not only Christ coming to us; it is Christ drawing us into Himself. The Eucharist is Jesus. And when we receive Him, we are changed. Slowly, steadily, deeply. We become what we receive. We become His Body for the world.
And that is the mystery we celebrate today: God meets us. God feeds us. God transforms us. God sends us.
Corpus Christi is our reminder that the greatest meeting of our week is not in a committee room, around a table, in a discussion group, but at the altar—where Christ Himself waits for us.
May we always show up for that meeting. May we always adore Him. May we always become what we receive.
In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
