I sit still, afraid to move and disturb the spell. Jesu is gazing into the cup, partially filled with Passover wine. I do not fully understand, my mind’s concepts so small and contracted. Moments before I glanced up as he broke our dinner’s bread and claimed his ransom in its substance. Of course I ate it; he gave it to me, and I love him. It was such a simple act, almost casual except for the strange blessing words, “This is my body.”

As I slowly chewed and then swallowed, I noticed my breath begin to expand and my heart shiver. A buzzing filled my chest and head that riveted my attention back to Jesus.

His head bowed in a reverence that is his alone. I was compelled to look where his eyes rested. “My blood for the life of the world” came his words. What can this mean? How does wine become blood? And what does he mean by “the world?” I cannot fathom in my pitiable head, but my heart commands a silence as Jesu offers me the cup after he took the first sip. I follow his lead, the liquid meeting my throat.

As the others at table follow in the ritual, the rapid sensations arising within are foreign to me and demand my full attention. I beg inwardly to hold onto them as long as possible, delirious with their deep resonance in my body and heart.

Something came home in me just now, and I want this feeling to last.

Jesus is now looking at each of us, locking our eyes in his gaze until we all are one in a way I have no words to explain.

I don’t know when I will get this again, but I want it, and not just for me, but for the world.

Hannam is a member of St. Philip Benizi Parish in Oregon City.