Eucharistic Hiddenness

Crushed wheat. Average wine.
Royalty disguised.
Simple gifts that become Everything.
Maybe our nothing is worth something.

What a beautiful mystery You are,
hidden and so present before us
in every Mass, monstrance, and tabernacle.

Humbly You take Your metal throne,
content in the darkness,
expectant, vulnerable, obedient,
waiting in that red glow.

You invite us
to believe,
to behold,
to receive,
to marvel,
to adore,
yet Your Presence doesn’t depend on it.
You come anyways.
You come always.
Escorted by the Spirit,
given by the Father,
truly You are with us just as You said.

I get it, sometimes.
If You’re hidden, so can I be.
So should I be,
resembling my Beloved.
Let them be front row.
They can steal the show.
But I know the last shall be first.
So I don’t need to sit at Your right or left.
I’ll stay here hidden in Your Heart.

“Jesus loves hidden souls. A hidden flower is the most fragrant.” - St. Faustina