The sacred Eucharist has been essential to my journey as a priest. My mother was a committed daily communicant, which meant I was naturally inclined to the blessings of this sacrament during my elementary and high school years. When I attended Gonzaga University, a friend inquired about my plans for Lent. I replied, “I’m not entirely certain, but I believe I will abstain from meat on several days — or something similar.” He responded, “Not me; I’m attending daily Mass.” I thought to myself, if he can attend daily Mass, maybe I should think about it. After all, it’s just for Lent.

I fulfilled my determination, and following Lent, I found myself captivated — unexpectedly attracted to the sermons, the fellowship, and, most importantly, the sacred Eucharist. As Lent initially commenced, I was eagerly anticipating the return of my lunch hour, but as it drew to a close, I experienced remorse about departing from the sacrament once the season concluded, so I simply continued.

Gradually, yet steadily, a change commenced in my life. Classmates began to mention that I appeared more serene, thoughtful, and spiritually engaged than I had in the past — “not like your former pragmatic, indifferent self.” I argued that I hadn’t altered that significantly, yet after numerous individuals remarked on it, I had to concede that something was taking place within me that I was participating in — though not directing. If I were to encapsulate it in a phrase, it would be John Henry Newman’s cor ad cor loquitur — the essence of Christ communicating with and reshaping my heart.

The bond with Christ continued to enhance my tranquility, faith in God and heart transformation over the following two years of college education. I began to feel a tension between my initial intention to attend law school (followed by joining my father’s law firm and businesses) and an emerging, increasingly compelling urge to serve the Kingdom of God. My involvement in daily Mass (especially receiving the holy Eucharist) along with my philosophical coursework led me inevitably to the realization that my faith was the most significant aspect of my existence. What was genuinely surprising was that my previous aspiration for wealth, influence, and authority no longer seemed relevant. I became deeply intrigued by all things theological — ranging from Scripture to Church history to doctrine — and I couldn’t help but conclude that pursuing the priesthood would be far more worthwhile than my original plan.

My participation in daily Mass (particularly receiving the holy Eucharist) as well as my philosophical studies led inexorably toward the conviction that my religion was the most important dimension of my life.

I still aspired to be wed, raise a family, and enter my father’s law practice and enterprises as I was unwilling to let my father down, and I had developed a belief that I couldn’t find fulfillment without these elements. I reached out to my mother and conveyed my dilemma, to which she replied, “I just came across this article in Time magazine, and it states that you can be a permanent deacon and have it all — marriage, family, career, and service to Christ in the Church. All you need to do is get married prior to applying for the diaconal program.” I reflected, “That’s it — the answer!” At last, I could set aside thoughts of the priesthood and pursue my pre-law studies with tranquility.

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Nevertheless, the Lord did not allow me to remain at ease. He continued to enhance his presence to me via the holy Eucharist, and the same series of thoughts started to reemerge. I sensed his presence, tranquility, healing strength, and comfort even hours after departing from Mass, prompting the inquiry, “Why wouldn’t I desire to dedicate my life to being his ambassador as his alter Christus?” The following inner conflict lingered for many months, and then one afternoon, as I was exiting St. Aloysius Church, I noticed a pamphlet about the priesthood positioned on a shelf at the entrance. One part of me insisted, “Avoid that book!” while another part urged, “Examine that book!”

Even now, I credit my choice to examine the book to an overwhelming longing sparked by the Holy Spirit. I stood at the rear of the church and read the pamphlet intently, taking in all the images. I left not only believing that I wished to become a priest and that this would be the most fulfilling path for my life, but more importantly, that the Lord was summoning me to the priesthood. I had one additional affirming encounter before I completely resolved my decision, and upon that realization, I reached out to the vocation director for the Jesuits and moved forward with determination. Since that choice, I have experienced greater joy as well as increased peace, trust, faith, and love.

I am completely convinced that this was triggered and motivated by daily Mass — especially the sacred Eucharist. Jesus’ inner presence, along with the Holy Spirit’s workings of providence, led me into this existence filled with joy, ultimate meaning, and an ever-deepening connection with him.

What impact did Christ have on the Eucharist?

• • A profound bond with him — particularly an understanding of his continuous existence.
  • An all-encompassing feeling of safety, tranquility, and reliance, particularly during periods of hardship and adversity.
  • A change of my heart towards his Holy Heart.
  • A motivated understanding to “prioritize the Kingdom of God, and everything else will be provided for you as well.”

Jesus’ statement in the Gospel of John remains profoundly fulfilled in my life and spirit: I am the living bread that descended from heaven; anyone who consumes this bread will have eternal life; and the bread that I will provide is my body for the life of the world. … Anyone who eats my body and drinks my blood dwells in me and I in him … anyone who eats this bread will have eternal life” (Jn 6:51, 56, 58).

Father Robert J. Spitzer, SJ, Ph.D., is president of the Magis Center and the Spitzer Center for Visionary Leadership.