When we say the bread and wine become the Body and Blood of Christ, we mean it. Not symbolically. Not spiritually in some vague sense. Actually.
But we don’t try to explain how.
That’s the Orthodox position in a nutshell. We’re more interested in what happens than in constructing philosophical explanations for how it happens. The Eucharist is a mystery, and we’re content to leave it that way.
It’s Really Him
If you grew up Baptist or in a non-denominational church around Beaumont, you probably learned that communion is a memorial. The bread represents Christ’s body. The juice represents his blood. You take it to remember what Jesus did. It’s a meaningful symbol, but it’s still just bread and grape juice.
That’s not what we believe.
We believe that when the priest prays the epiclesis (the invocation of the Holy Spirit) over the gifts, they become the Body and Blood of Christ. Not his dead flesh from the cross, but his living, glorified, risen Body. You’re receiving the actual Person of Jesus Christ. St. Ignatius of Antioch called it “the medicine of immortality.” He wasn’t being poetic. He meant it.
This is why we don’t practice open communion. It’s not because we’re exclusive or unwelcoming. It’s because we take this seriously. You wouldn’t hand someone powerful medicine without making sure they understood what it was and how to take it properly.
Not Transubstantiation (Exactly)
Some of you come from Catholic backgrounds and wonder if this is the same as transubstantiation. Sort of, but not quite.
Catholics use Aristotelian philosophy to explain the change. They say the “substance” of bread and wine changes into Christ’s Body and Blood while the “accidents” (the appearance, taste, texture) remain the same. It’s a very precise philosophical explanation developed in the medieval West.
We don’t use that framework. Some Orthodox theologians have used the word “transubstantiation” historically, but they didn’t mean the scholastic definition. We say the gifts are transformed, changed, become the Body and Blood. But we refuse to explain the mechanics with Aristotelian categories or any other philosophical system.
Why? Because God didn’t give us a formula. He gave us a mystery.
The Catholic approach isn’t wrong so much as it’s more specific than we think is necessary or helpful. We’re comfortable saying “This is my Body” and leaving the how to God. Fr. Alexander Schmemann wrote extensively about this. The Eucharist isn’t a puzzle to solve. It’s a gift to receive.
The Work of the Spirit
Here’s where Orthodox practice differs from both Catholic and Protestant traditions in an important way: we emphasize the epiclesis.
In our liturgy, after the priest says the words of institution (“Take, eat, this is my Body”), he doesn’t stop there. He continues with a prayer asking the Father to send the Holy Spirit upon us and upon the gifts, to make the bread the Body of Christ and the wine the Blood of Christ. That invocation is essential. The whole liturgy matters, not just one moment or one formula.
This reflects how we understand the Church. The Eucharist isn’t magic words that work automatically. It’s the prayer of the Church, the work of the Spirit, the action of God in response to our faith. The priest doesn’t transform the gifts by his own power. The Holy Spirit does it in the context of the Church’s worship.
Living With Mystery
I know this can be frustrating if you’re used to having everything explained. Southeast Texas runs on engineers and plant operators who troubleshoot problems for a living. You want to know how things work.
But some things can’t be reduced to a process flow diagram.
The Church Fathers didn’t try to explain it either. St. Cyril of Jerusalem told catechumens in the fourth century that the bread and wine become the Body and Blood of Christ, and he warned them not to judge by their senses but to receive by faith. St. John Chrysostom said the same. They proclaimed the reality without dissecting it.
We follow their example. We know what we receive. We don’t know how the change happens, and we’re fine with that. It’s enough to know that Christ promised to give us his Body and Blood, and he keeps his promises.
This isn’t intellectual laziness. It’s humility. We’re not smarter than the Apostles or the Fathers. If they were content to worship without explaining, so are we.
What This Means for You
If you’re preparing to become Orthodox, this is one of those teachings that might take time to settle in. That’s okay. Keep coming to the liturgy. Listen to the prayers. Watch the reverence with which the priest handles the chalice. Talk to your priest or your catechism class.
The reality of Christ’s presence in the Eucharist isn’t something you figure out intellectually first and then believe. It’s something you come to know by participating in the life of the Church. You’ll receive your first communion, and you’ll keep receiving, and over time the truth of it will become part of you.
That’s how the faith works. We’re not asking you to solve a theological problem. We’re inviting you to receive a Person.
