“Take, eat. This is my body, given up for you. Take, drink. This is my blood, poured out for you.”

Jesus’ words at the Last Supper ought to shake us. His body is beaten down and broken, for you. His blood is made to drip out of his flesh, for you. The movement of Jesus to gather his closest disciples together to share one last meal with them communicates that he desires to share this intimacy with the future generations of his followers.

For this reason, St. Augustine once encouraged the faithful to “recognize in this bread what hung on the cross, and in this chalice what flowed from his side … whatever was in many and varied ways announced beforehand in the sacrifices of the Old Testament pertains to this one sacrifice which is revealed in the New Testament.”

All of salvation history leads to the upper room and to Golgotha. Not only would these days become the source of our salvation — they would become the conduit for the highest ability of union with God: the Eucharist. The invitation of Holy Thursday is to never take the Blessed Sacrament and attendance at the Sacrifice of the Mass for granted.

Jesus’ words to St. Faustina echo this intimacy as well. He said to her, “I desire to unite Myself to human souls, Know, My daughter, that when I come to a human heart in Holy Communion, My hands are full of all kinds of graces which I want to give to the soul. But souls do not even pay any attention to Me; they leave Me to Myself and busy themselves with other things. … They treat Me as a dead object.”

Just like the moments at the Last Supper and at Calvary, each Mass there are moments when some refuse to recognize who is truly before them and what that One has done for us. His body was broken open for you so that his blood could save you. In the presence of the True Presence, the one thing necessary is to unite ourselves to his Sacred Heart. This occurs, most powerfully, through the reception of Holy Communion.

St. Francis de Sales once said, “When you have received him, stir up your heart to do him homage; speak to him about your spiritual life, gazing upon him in your soul where he is present for your happiness; welcome him as warmly as possible, and behave outwardly in such a way that your actions may give proof to all of his presence.”

These moments we are given with the savior of the world are spent kneeling because we are adoring his sacrifice. So, Francis challenges us to speak to him about what is truly on our minds and hearts. Kneel as if you were directly in front of him — because you are.

This proximity with the risen Jesus in the Eucharist emboldened St. John Chrysostom to say, “How many of you say: I should like to see his face, his garments, his shoes. You do see him, you touch him, you eat him. He gives himself to you, not only that you may see him, but also to be your food and nourishment.”

We do not have to spend time wishing that we were there two thousand years ago. Instead of pondering how we would respond during the Triduum of his lifetime, be captivated by how you act in prayer, here and now. Because the mysteries of these divine actions are made present to us at the Mass. Each time we receive the Eucharist we gain access to making contact with Jesus Christ. The one who allowed others to break his body so that it could be given to you and to me.