Minnesota Priest has Mystical Experience with Chalice on Feast of Exaltation of the Cross

"I felt the heaviness of Jesus’s substantial presence in the chalice in my hands." - Fr. Bowman

Three days ago, on September 14, 2026, the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, Fr. Brent Bowman, a diocesan priest in Hopkins, Minnesota broke down in tears as he struggled to raise the chalice at Mass. He was lost in the grief we should all feel when we remember how Jesus suffered for us.

With shaking hands, and a broken cadence he lifted up the chalice saying, "Take this, all of you, and drink from it, for this is the chalice of my blood, the blood of the new and eternal covenant, which will be poured out for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins. Do this in memory of me".

It made the news because the mass, like every other daily mass in St. Gabriel the Archangel Catholic church, was live streamed. See video here. 

While standing 'in persona Christi' during the consecration, as he went down to genuflect he sobbed for more than a minute. In his own statement, the priest who was ordained in May 2024, said he received what he believed was an interior knowledge of the power of the words of consecration and a sensory awareness of the weight of Christ’s substantial presence in the chalice. 

Note: He explicitly clarified that he did not see physical blood or flesh and that this was not a Eucharistic miracle in the technical sense. 

The full statement of Father Bowman:

To the good people of God:  

Praise be Jesus Christ, now and forever! 

On Monday, September 14, I celebrated the Holy Mass for the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross at St. Gabriel’s Catholic Church in Hopkins, MN. Present were Chesterton Academy students, faculty and staff and parishioners of the parish. During the Mass, I had a private spiritual experience while praying the Eucharistic prayer over the bread and wine and I want to humbly share and clarify what I experienced all for God’s glory and praise. In doing so, I also want to correct any misinformation as the Mass recording is being shared online.   

To clarify up front, my experience was NOT what the Catholic Church considers a “Eucharistic miracle.” The forms of bread and wine retained their accidents (i.e., their appearance and taste) during this entire experience. Never did I see real blood or human flesh with my eyes. 

My experience was this: 

During the consecration prayer over the wine at the altar, as I spoke the words, I was given what I believe to be internal knowledge of the power of these words being spoken and the reality of their effect to the point that I had difficulty speaking.  With each word, I became more physically overwhelmed as seen in the video. At the same time, I was given sensory knowledge of the weight of God’s power coming down upon the altar, and I felt the heaviness of Jesus’s substantial presence in the chalice in my hands. The chalice became too heavy to hold as I felt it pulled down to rest upon the altar. I felt my hands fixed to the chalice of the Precious Blood, and I could not physically move it. Attempting to elevate the Precious Blood, which I was not able to do for a period of time, I believe I was given grace to understand more deeply the bitter sweetness of Our Lord’s Passion and how much blood Christ shed for the immense weight of all our sins. I believe I experienced this weight in the chalice. This spiritual experience emotionally and physically overwhelmed me as evident in the Mass recording. 

Lastly, private spiritual encounters with God like these are completely unmerited gifts and signs of God’s abundant love for all his people. They are not necessarily signs of any person’s holiness. 

I pray this brief testimony moves all our hearts to contemplate more deeply the mysteries of the Real Presence of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist and the Precious Blood. 

Peace in Christ, 

Fr. Brent Bowman 

Father Bowman and the Flying Saint

Father Bowman’s experience is reminiscent of Saint Joseph of Cupertino (‘the flying Saint’), who on the same day September 14, on the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, in the year 1640, was also given a mystical gift.  An eyewitness, Don Girolamo Angelucci, testified that  at the elevation of the Host, Joseph reportedly cried out and rose into the air above the altar step, remaining suspended while holding the Host up for a few seconds then descended and continued Mass. 

The Feast of the Exaltation emphasizes Christ being “lifted up” on the Cross and both Father Bowman and Saint Joseph of Cupertino had their spiritual encounters with God as they elevated the consecrated Eucharist at that Mass on that day. For Fr. Bowman it was the Precious Blood in the chalice, for Cupertino it was the Sacred Host.

"The cross does not measure our worth. It reveals it!" - Fr. Bowman

Father Bowman's Homily for that mass:

This is a transcript of the homily that Father Bowman gave moments before his profound mystical experience was captured on camera:

My dear students, imagine every time you carried your phone, you bore this immeasurable pressure—an unavoidable pressure.

The group chat where everybody is comparing grades or maybe talking unkindly to each other. Perhaps it’s the app that measures our likes and followers. Either way, we’re doing this constant, quiet math in our heads that says:

“Am I smart enough? Am I good-looking enough? Am I impressive enough? Do people approve of me?”

It’s an unavoidable pressure. And every single day, the scorecard resets and the pressure to prove yourself starts all over again. This is part of our human condition. Most of us struggle in this way. Of course, there is not one real person who bears this kind of immeasurable pressure all at once, but I think we understand the feeling. We know that burden, that mentality, and what it feels like.

And here’s why this matters so much on this day.

Every one of those measurements says the same thing: You are worth what you can show—and only that. But when we look at the crucifix, we hear something completely different.

Christ gives himself for us while we still have nothing to show, while we are most assuredly still sinners—works in progress.

The cross does not measure our worth. It reveals it.

You are loved before you achieve a single thing.

How difficult it is for us to receive that love, and how difficult it is to believe that we do not have to achieve something before we are worthy to receive it.

Today, the Church holds up so beautifully an instrument of execution and proclaims it the sign of our salvation as we recognize the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross—the Cross of our Lord.

We’re not celebrating the cruelty of the cross. We’re not pretending that suffering is good in and of itself. We’re celebrating Jesus Christ, whose love enters our suffering and conquers sin and death through his Cross and Resurrection. How difficult it is for us to live this reality. What do we see when we look at him on the cross?

Look at him now.

Not a God who only loves us when we succeed, but the God who loves us right now, as we are still sinners figuring it out—works in progress.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son.”

My dear students, this challenges us. It challenges the constant pressure that I think all of you feel—the pressure that questions your self-worth: your appearance, your grades, your performance, approval, achievement. These things can never measure your dignity. The cross tells you that you are loved before anything else.

And being loved by Christ also frees us to love like Christ.

So, as we’re still trying to figure out our own self-worth, let us refuse to join in the humiliation of classmates. Let us tell the truth when dishonesty feels easier. Let us ask for forgiveness without defending our pride.

These are choices that cost us something.

But I assure you: suffering with Christ, when you offer it to him, is never wasted.

Today, let us all look upon the crucifix with faith. Bring Christ your sins, your fears, and the burdens you cannot explain. And let his outstretched arms teach us that love is stronger than everything else.

Amen.