The Last Battle: The secularization of the Blessed Sacrament

The history of the Church is, to a large extent, the history of a constant battle: the one the enemy wages against the Holy Eucharist. To understand the magnitude of this combat, one need only look at the moments of greatest division. In the 16th century, against all logic and the unanimous testimony of Scripture, Protestants reduced the notion of the Real Presence by denying transubstantiation. For them, the Eucharist ceased to be the real sacrifice of Christ sacramentally renewed and became a mere sign, emptied of the substance that is the heart of our faith.



In the modernist wave, the attack focused not only on dogmatic definition but also on practical care: the less reverence, the better. Loaves of bread manipulated by everyone, improvised forms, chalices of earthenware or clay, careless gestures. It was a progressive desacralization, a silent pedagogy aimed at accustoming the people of God to the loss of the sacred. However, once those cruder tactics were exhausted, the offensive has taken more subtle forms. Under the pretext of "bringing Jesus closer to the people" or "stripping Him of ornaments to focus on Him," a dangerous trend is spreading today: the secularization of the Blessed Sacrament.

The Tabernacle becomes a piece of furniture with a minimalist and bland design, almost invisible; monstrances are reduced to simple supports that resemble containers more than thrones; and the exposition of the Blessed Sacrament is improvised in gardens, beaches, or multipurpose rooms, accompanied by guitars, relaxation, and group activities. This trend is more dangerous than many of the liturgical abuses of past decades because it is not so obvious, it presents itself with an appearance of normality, and can deceive even well-intentioned Catholic families, who foster an inappropriate relationship with the Eucharist in their children. There is a certain appearance of respect, but the framework in which the Real Presence is placed equates it with something commonplace.

If, instead of building temples with their altars and reredos, the Blessed Sacrament had been protected on any beach at a beautiful sunset or in a domestic living room as just another decorative element, the faith would have hardly survived. It's not about ostentation or luxury, but about offering God the best we have at our disposal. If the best a poor community can present is a simple tabernacle in a humble chapel, it will be as worthy as the most imposing basilica in the world, because it represents the greatest effort and care of those who offer it.

The problem is not lavishness, but the hierarchy of priorities: preventing the sacred from being diluted in the commonplace. To the Lord, present among us, we must dedicate our greatest effort, all our means, and our care, not reduce Him to the everyday under the pretext of "valuing the simple." The everyday is not evil, but what is of God must be above the everyday, so that it may reign with the dignity it deserves. Our closed hearts and our human limitations need this maxim.

This is not a matter of cold legalism. It is something much deeper: the theological truth of the Incarnation and the Real Presence demands signs, spaces, and gestures that reveal and safeguard it. God made man, who chose to hide himself beneath the humble species of bread, deserves that everything around him be oriented toward manifesting his kingship and holiness. For this reason, the Church, with centuries of liturgical wisdom, has erected temples and not mere halls; she has raised altars and not simple tables; she has guarded the Eucharist in tabernacles that are jewel cases of the soul and not catalog shelves.



The canonical and liturgical norms are clear and do not lend themselves to equivocation. The Code of Canon Law, in its canons 941 to 944, establishes that the exposition of the Blessed Sacrament must take place in a dignified place, following the prescriptions of the liturgical books, and that any public procession requires authorization from the diocesan Bishop. The Roman Ritual and the Instruction Eucharisticum Mysterium specify that the place of exposition must be conducive to prayer and recollection, free from distractions, adorned with sobriety and beauty, and protected from all risk of profanation. Redemptionis Sacramentum warns against any trivialization or "spectacularization" of Eucharistic worship, recalling that its purpose is adoration, not social animation.

These norms are not a formality: they are the juridical translation of a theological principle. Form protects substance. The exquisite care in the exposition of the Blessed Sacrament is a confession of faith: we believe that Christ himself, Savior of the world, is there. When the Blessed Sacrament is placed in a garden, amidst light music or group activities, the sense of adoration is diluted. When the monstrance is reduced to a mere support, the greatness of the One who is present within it is also symbolically minimized.

History shows that every time the people of God lose their sense of the sacredness of the Eucharist, their entire faith falters. Therefore, maintaining the distinction between the sacred and the common is not an accessory option, but an intrinsic requirement of what is professed.

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