Oh, to Receive as Mary Did: A Eucharistic Reflection

What if we received Jesus in the Eucharist with the love, awe, and knowing of His own mother?

Behold the Lamb of God: The moment of consecration, where heaven meets earth.

This morning as I prayed the Luminous Mysteries of the Rosary, I found myself lingering in the Fifth Mystery—the Institution of the Eucharist. As I meditated on Jesus offering His Body and Blood at the Last Supper, a thought rose gently in my spirit:

Mother Mary never received the Eucharist from Him that night.

From what we know in Scripture, she wasn’t present in the upper room during the Last Supper. And Jesus died the next day. So did she ever receive from His own hand?

And yet—surely she must have. She is the Mother of the Church. She was there in the upper room at Pentecost (Acts 1:14), at the heart of the new community of believers. She, of all people, would have longed for and cherished every sacramental touch of her Son’s presence.

It’s not written in Scripture, but the tradition of the Church leaves room for holy imagination. St. John Paul II once remarked that it’s hard to believe Jesus would have appeared to so many during the forty days after His Resurrection and not to His own mother. In fact, some saints believe His very first appearance was to her, hidden and intimate, outside the public eye. What must that reunion have been like? Could He have given her Communion in that sacred meeting?

She who gave Him His body, now receiving it back as the Bread of Heaven.

She knew His heartbeat from the inside. She held Him as a child. She wept beneath His Cross. Can you imagine how her tender, immaculate heart must have burned with love when she received Him again—not in her arms this time, but into her very body and soul through the Eucharist? Surely she received with a depth, a purity, a union unlike anyone else. Her "Amen" was the echo of the one she gave at the Annunciation: “Let it be done unto me according to Thy word.”

The Blood of Christ, poured out in love—received with awe, as Mary would have.

I can’t help but wonder what it was like for her to participate in the early Church’s celebration of the Lord’s Supper. To see bread broken and remember His hands breaking it. To hear the words—This is My Body, given up for you—and know them not only from the Last Supper, but from Calvary. To receive the fullness of Him, Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity, and know: I once carried Him beneath my heart… and now, again, He comes to dwell in me.

Oh, to receive the Eucharist with the abandon and knowing of Mother.

Reflection

We often forget the immensity of what we are offered in the Eucharist. It is Christ Himself, wholly and entirely present. But many of us receive distracted, uncertain, even half-aware. What if we began to ask for Mary’s heart to be our guide? What if we received not just with obligation or gratitude, but with intimacy and awe?

Mary shows us how to say yes—fully, lovingly, and without hesitation. If she is the first tabernacle, then she is also the model of what it means to be filled with Jesus and carry Him into the world.

And let’s be honest—Mary, who pondered all things in her heart and knew her Son more intimately than anyone, would never have received the Eucharist thinking it was just a symbol. No mother looks into the eyes of her living child and insists it’s only a picture. She knew: This is my Son. This is my God.

Let’s not receive half-heartedly. Let’s ask to receive as Mother did.

Prayer

She once carried Him beneath her heart—and now receives Him again n the Eucharist.

Jesus,
I believe that You are truly present in the Most Holy Eucharist—Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity.
Help me receive You not just with my lips, but with my whole heart.
Let me know You, love You, and be united to You as Your Mother was.
Impart to me her tenderness, her awe, her burning love.
Let my “Amen” echo hers. Let my soul magnify You.
And just as Mary carried You into the world,
Help me to carry Your presence to those who need You most.

Reveal Yourself to me more fully, Lord.
I want to know You in the breaking of the bread.
Come into my heart and make it a dwelling place of grace.
Amen.

About the Author

Patty Deschaine is the founder of Fifty Shades of Grace and a passionate Catholic woman of prayer, writing to unite hearts across the Body of Christ. After years of civil marriage, she recently celebrated her sacramental wedding in the Catholic Church on Divine Mercy Sunday. Patty writes from the intersection of obedience and awe, where God's grace flows most freely.