Corpus Christi Sunday – Homily before Eucharistic Procession and Benediction – 7 June 2026
Today the Church throughout the world celebrates the great feast of Corpus Christi, the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ. One of the most beautiful feasts of the Christian year, it invites us to contemplate the mystery that lies at the very heart of our faith: the gift of Christ himself in the Eucharist.
Thus as we begin our devotion today, it is important to reflect on what it is that we are doing and why. The great tragedy would be if we came to Mass every week, received Communion faithfully, adored the Blessed Sacrament reverently, and yet remained fundamentally unchanged.
For the Eucharist is not simply an object of devotion. It is not merely a symbol of God’s presence. Nor is it simply a religious custom handed down through the centuries. The Eucharist is not magic. It is relationship. It is communion. It is transformation. The Eucharist is Christ himself. The Eucharist is the living Christ who gives himself entirely to us and who invites us to become what we receive. That phrase is perhaps the most important thing we can say about the Eucharist today. We become what we receive.
Today’s feast has its origins in the desire of the Church to focus on a mystery so profound that it could never be exhausted in a single celebration on Holy Thursday. On Holy Thursday we remember the institution of the Eucharist, but our attention is directed toward the Passion that follows. Today we focus our attention entirely upon the gift itself.
And what is that gift? It is nothing less than the self-giving love of Christ. When Jesus says at the Last Supper, “This is my body given for you,” he is not merely describing bread. He is describing his entire life. His whole existence was a gift. Everything about Jesus was “for others.” His teaching was for others. His healing was for others. His compassion was for others. His forgiveness was for others. His suffering was for others. His death was for others. And therefore when he says, “This is my body given for you,” he is revealing the deepest truth about himself. His life is gift. His life is self-emptying love. His life is complete surrender to the Father and complete generosity toward humanity.
The great hymn found in Saint Paul’s Letter to the Philippians tells us that Christ “emptied himself.” The Greek word is kenosis. It means self-emptying. God reveals himself not through domination but through self-giving. Not through grasping but through surrender. Not through power over others but through love for others. The Cross is the ultimate expression of that self-emptying. And the Eucharist is the perpetual memorial of that self-emptying.
At every Mass the sacrifice of Christ becomes sacramentally present among us. The Mass is not a repetition of Calvary. Nor is it merely a remembrance of Calvary. Rather, we are drawn into the eternal self-offering of Christ. We are brought into the mystery of his self-giving love. This is why the Mass remains the centre of our Catholic life. Not because it is an obligation. Not because it is a tradition. The Mass is central because it places us at the very heart of Christ’s self-offering to the Father. Every other devotion in the Church flows from that reality and leads back to it.
This includes Eucharistic Adoration. Sometimes people mistakenly imagine that Adoration and Mass are separate realities. They are not. Adoration flows from the Eucharist and returns us to the Eucharist. The purpose of Eucharistic Adoration is not to replace the Mass. Its purpose is to deepen our participation in the Mass.
Saint John Paul II once wrote that the worship of the Eucharist outside Mass is of inestimable value precisely because it unites us more deeply to the sacrifice of Christ celebrated in the liturgy. When we kneel before the Blessed Sacrament, we are not simply looking at a sacred object. We are gazing upon the One who has given everything for us. We are allowing ourselves to be seen by him. We are learning to love as he loves. We are allowing his self-emptying love to reshape our hearts.
The silence of adoration is not empty silence. It is relational silence. It is the silence of friendship. The silence of love. The silence of one heart resting in another.
The Eucharist is not simply about Christ becoming present to us. It is about us becoming present to Christ. It is about allowing our lives to be transformed into his life.
But there is something else. The Eucharist always carries within it a challenge. The challenge is this: If we adore Christ present in the Host, then we must also recognise Christ present in the people around us. The Eucharist can never be separated from charity. The Body of Christ on the altar and the Body of Christ in the world belong together. Saint Augustine once told newly baptised Christians: “Behold what you are; become what you receive.” You receive the Body of Christ. Therefore become the Body of Christ. You receive sacrificial love. Therefore become sacrificial love. You receive self-giving. Therefore become self-giving.
The measure of our Eucharistic devotion is not how many hours we spend before the tabernacle. The measure is whether our hearts become more generous, more compassionate, more forgiving, more patient, more humble. A Eucharistic spirituality that does not lead to love of neighbour remains incomplete. A Eucharistic spirituality that does not lead to service remains unfinished. A Eucharistic spirituality that does not lead to self-giving remains disconnected from the very mystery it celebrates.
This is the deepest meaning of the Eucharist.The self-emptying of Christ becomes the self-emptying of the disciple. But notice something important. Christian self-emptying is never self-destruction. It is self-giving. The purpose of self-emptying is not to become less human. It is to become more fully human. Jesus empties himself not because he despises his life but because love seeks to give itself away. A mother caring for a child in the middle of the night. A husband caring for his wife through illness. A teacher who patiently encourages a struggling student. A friend who remains faithful during difficult times. A volunteer who serves those in need. A parishioner who quietly carries responsibilities without recognition. These are Eucharistic lives. These are lives shaped by self-giving love. These are lives that reveal the presence of Christ in the world.
This then leads us to the significance of a Eucharistic Procession In a little while we will carry the Blessed Sacrament outside this church. Historically, processions emerged as public acts of faith. But they are more than that. They are symbolic acts. We carry Christ into the streets because Christ belongs in the streets. We carry Christ into the world because Christ came for the world. The Eucharist is not meant to remain enclosed within church walls. Its purpose is to transform human life. Its purpose is to sanctify homes, workplaces, schools, relationships, communities and nations.
When we process through the streets today, we are proclaiming something profound: Christ walks with his people. Christ is present in the ordinary places of life. Christ desires to enter every aspect of human existence.
But there is another meaning as well. We do not simply carry Christ through the streets. We are called to become Christ’s presence in the streets. The procession becomes a living parable of discipleship. For after the monstrance returns to the church and the feast day ends, Christ continues his journey through the world in us. Our hands become his hands. Our voices become his voice. Our compassion becomes his compassion. Our lives become the means through which his love reaches others.
Every Mass ends with a dismissal. “Go forth.” Those words are not an afterthought. They are a mission. We are sent because the Eucharist is unfinished. The liturgy continues in the way we live. The sacrifice continues in the way we love. The communion continues in the way we build community. The presence of Christ continues in the way we serve. The Eucharist reaches its fulfilment not only on the altar but in the life of the disciple.
Today, as we celebrate Corpus Christi, let us ask for three graces. First, the grace of wonder. May we never lose our sense of awe before the mystery of Christ’s presence among us. Second, the grace of intimacy. May our adoration draw us ever more deeply into friendship with the Lord. And third, the grace of transformation. May the Christ whom we adore become the Christ whom we imitate. May the Body of Christ that we receive become the pattern of our lives. May the self-emptying love of Jesus become in us a self-giving love for others. And may our Eucharistic worship bear fruit in Eucharistic living, until the whole of our lives becomes an offering of praise to God.
Lord Jesus Christ,
in the Eucharist you remain among us as the sacrament of your self-giving love.
Teach us to adore what we celebrate,
to celebrate what we believe,
and to live what we celebrate.
As we gaze upon you in this sacred mystery,
transform us into your Body for the world,
that our lives may become bread broken and shared for others,
and a living witness to your presence among us.
Amen.
