This story is for those seeking a deeper understanding of the Eucharist.
A Lesson From a Little Nun
The Quote That Started It All
St. Teresa of Calcutta once told a priest that the saddest thing in the world was to watch people receive the Blessed Sacrament irreverently — speaking not of how, but of the disposition of the heart.
The Memory
That reflection came rushing back — standing inside Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris during Holy Mass. A nun from the Missionaries of Charity was helping distribute Holy Communion. Hands extended to receive, she gave them a firm tap — not gentle — and then lightly touched a cheek. The message was wordless and unmistakable: Our Lord was to be received on the tongue.
The Lesson That Took Years to Land
No second thought was given to it at the time. It was only recently — after making the personal decision to receive Holy Communion on the tongue — that the quiet lesson that little nun was teaching finally came into focus.
When Mike and I were newly married, we attended Mass at St. John Eudes in Chatsworth, California — a rare visit during a season when faith had taken a backseat. Yet one moment from that day never left: the overwhelming joy that came after receiving Communion. The sensation was profound and inexplicable. Without the spiritual maturity to understand what was truly happening, there was still something unmistakably real — because what was being received was the Body of Christ Himself.
For years, that memory lingered without a name. The joy was real, but its source remained a mystery. It was only in returning to the Catholic faith that the truth came into focus: what had been missing was not simply a feeling — it was the Eucharist. The living presence of Christ in the Blessed Sacrament.
The Novice Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion
Called to Serve
Serving as an Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion requires training — a brief formation in positioning, the proper words, and how to distribute reverently. It seemed straightforward enough. It was not.
The Weight of the Moment
The first time standing at the altar, inadequacy set in immediately. Every eye seemed fixed, every movement scrutinized. When a communicant approached with mouth open and tongue extended, fear took hold: What if her tongue is touched? What if the Host falls short? That anxiety proved prophetic. During the first week, a consecrated Host was dropped — and fell to the floor.
Grace in the Unexpected
Thank God, the woman picked it up immediately and consumed it herself. Mortification does not begin to describe it. The training had covered this: handle any dropped Host with reverence. But in that moment, the mind went blank. When it happened again, composure returned — the Host was carefully retrieved, held in hand, and after the remaining communicants were served, brought directly to the priest. He received it without a word, reverently consuming it himself.
The Lesson
One truth became clear early on: the reverence belongs to the Lord.
Sacred Responsibility
Six years later, the ministry continues — serving as an Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion, week after week. With time, confidence has grown — not in technique, but in the weight of the sacred responsibility itself.
The parish serves both its community and an attached Catholic school, which means ministering multiple times each week, often to the youngest members of the flock. What once began in fear has become a privilege.
Not Again
Several years ago, while distributing Holy Communion to a student, a small particle of the Host fell to the floor. The heart raced — not from embarrassment this time, but from the full weight of what had just happened.
Eyes on the Floor
The Race of the Heart
There was no way to pick it up right then — the altar was packed with people, and the last thing anyone needed was a disruption during their communion with Christ. But the mind? Total chaos. What if someone steps on it? What if it disappears completely? Eyes stayed glued to that one spot on the floor for the next several minutes. A complete wreck.
The Search
After Mass, still hovering over that same area, Alan — one of the sacristans — walked over and asked what was going on. A quick explanation: a particle had fallen during distribution. The two of us got down and searched the floor together. Something small turned up, and in a moment of reverence — or maybe just looking way too hard — it went straight into the mouth, a genuflection followed, and that was that.
Something was immediately wrong.
The Horrible Truth
It did not dissolve like a Host. The texture was grainy, almost fibrous — like a fingernail. Or worse. Walking out of the church, stomach doing flips, the mystery object got quietly spit into a pocket for further investigation.
At home, the horrible truth came out: it was someone’s discarded toenail.
Transubstantiation
What the Church Actually Teaches
Transubstantiation is the heart of the Catholic faith: the bread and wine offered at Mass do not merely represent Christ — they become His Body and Blood. Truly. Completely. That is why receiving Communion at St. John Eudes carried such overwhelming joy. What was received was not a symbol. It was Christ Himself.
A Crisis Worth Knowing About
A 2019 Pew Research survey found that only 31% of Catholics in the United States believe the bread and wine actually become the Body and Blood of Jesus at Mass. That number has since been disputed — a Georgetown University study using more precise language found the figure closer to 64% — but even the most generous reading reveals a crisis of faith at the very center of Catholic life. Far too many Catholics approach the altar without knowing who they are receiving.
The Truth Is the Same Either Way
Whether the number is 31% or 64%, the doctrine does not change. What happens at every Mass — on every altar, in every nation, in every age — is what Christ Himself promised at the Last Supper and in the sixth chapter of John’s Gospel. This is not a symbol. This is not a memorial. This is the living Lord.
The Reverence
What the Church Requires
After those early mishaps, a deeper look into the proper protocol was in order — not just to be better prepared, but to understand why the Church treats even a crumb of the consecrated Host with such gravity.
The Protocol
The General Instruction of the Roman Missal and related Church directives are clear:
The priest and any Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion must remain extremely alert during the distribution of Holy Communion — ensuring each recipient consumes the sacred Host immediately, and retrieving it at once if anything goes wrong.
When receiving Holy Communion, the communicant should extend the tongue sufficiently so the Host can be placed on it securely — or form a proper cup with both hands. The communicant should then step aside, still facing the altar, and consume the Host before returning to the pew. That practice had become second nature even before knowing it was part of the official rubrics.
If a Host — or even a particle — falls to the floor, it should be retrieved and brought to the priest at the appropriate moment, such as when the vessels are being purified after Communion. An Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion may also consume the Host if it has fallen.
What Happens When a Host Cannot Be Consumed
Here is what proved most striking: if a Host has fallen and is too soiled to be consumed reverently, it is to be placed in water and allowed to dissolve completely. The process of dissolving the Host in water may be used in special conditions, such as a partially consumed Host that may have fallen from a communicant’s mouth or a Host that was unintentionally dropped to a less than clean floor. Once dissolved, the water is poured into the sacrarium — a special sink in the sacristy whose drain does not feed into the sewer system, but disperses directly into the earth.
Nothing about the Eucharist is incidental. Not even the water.
My Prayer
Dear Lord, continue to shed Your light on this broken world. May Your Holy Spirit open the hearts of those who do not yet understand that it is truly Your Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity present in the Eucharist. May we all fall on our knees in reverence before Your Holy Presence.
