From the consecration to the Leonine prayers.
From the consecration to the Leonine prayers.
This class goes from the Creed to the Hanc Igitur.
The six links of this podclass are:
The seven sections of the 1962 family Missal are:
2: Sundays in Advent and Lent (and Moveable Feasts)
3: Sundays after Pentecost (and Moveable Feasts)
4: Ordinary/Roman Canon and Prefaces (Baronius has prefaces before Ordinary)
5: Common Masses
6: Saints and Immovable Feasts
7: Votive Masses and Devotionals
It would be helpful (but not necessary) to have the layman’s 1962 Missal on hand to learn the power of this old Missal. The featured image above is St. Francis Xavier whose propers of the Mass we will consider in this “podclass.”
This is class 1 on teaching the 1962 layman’s missal, but people who go to the Ordinary Mass or Divine Liturgy will learn a lot, too, because linked here is the meditation for each part of the Holy Mass according to St. Francis De Sales, and that comprises part of this “podclass.”
Ten years ago this week, Pope Benedict XVi issued an apostolic letter called Summorum Pontificum that decreed that all Roman Catholic priests could offer “the extraordinary form of the Roman Rite,” also known as “the Traditional Latin Mass” that preceded Vatican II. In fact, Pope John Paul II had encouraged bishops to allow their priests to do this, but Pope Benedict went a step further in saying that priests did not need permission from their bishop to do the old Mass in private. Restrictions were to be loosened for this Mass offered in public, too. The Roman Catholic priest was also given permission to give the old absolution in Latin for penitents, extreme unction for the dying and early-Church blessings for anyone who asked. The priest can now live on the old calendar for both the Mass and the Roman Breviary (a system of 150 Psalms a week slightly changed from the 6th century onwards.)
It is very interesting that Summorum Pontificum was issued on 7/7/7, or in European dating, 7/7/7. Three is the superlative in Biblical terms for anything in heaven or on earth, so three sevens means “covenant to the utmost.” Interestingly enough, we have seven sacraments. But this number goes even deeper into tradition: In Hebrew, to “seven” someone is to covenant them, to enter into a life-for-a-life relationship. This is done by “cutting a covenant” as the Hebrew for “covenant” takes the verb “to cut.” For example, God first “cut a covenant” with Abraham by cutting apart two animals and two birds (Gen 15) and passing through them. He would turn this violence on Himself 2000 years later on the Cross and in the Holy Mass, for “the priest sunders with unbloody cut the body and blood of the Lord, using his voice as a sword.”—St. Gregory Nazienzen. This is not Calvinism or even the Father turning against the Son. It is the Divine Word as God offering his sacred humanity in body and in blood through the pain and love of the cross to each one of us. Some priests before Vatican II used to go off to Mass saying that they were going to do “holy violence to God.” Why? Because Jesus gives His body and blood to us from the most unkind cuts of Calvary, perpetuated in the Mass. Was it any accident that the most ancient form of the Roman Mass was re-opened (albeit never fully abrogated) on the 7th day of the 7th month of 2007? God establishes a worldwide covenant with His people.
Strangely, Pope Benedict never offered the extraordinary form in public. On the other hand, Pope Benedict XVI called the ordinary form “a banal, on-the-spot-fabrication.” How then, did he expect the old rites and new rites to be streamlined together in a single parish? Pope Benedict proposed “the hermeneutic of continuity.” The hermeneutic of continuity holds that there is to be no rupture in liturgy (or doctrine) before the Council or after the Council. I believe that this was the number one goal of his papacy and Summorum Pontificum. Has it worked?
At least one bishop this year has repealed Summorum Pontficum by stating that “Masses are not to be celebrated using the Extraordinary Form without my permission” as seen in this article. The new Mass is rarely permitted by bishops to be celebrated according to even post-Vatican-II rules. If you think this is an exaggeration, consider the 2004 document signed by Pope John Paul II and written by Cardinal Arinze, titled Redemptionis Sacramentum. In this document, it is clear that the new Mass can be done ad orientem (facing the altar.) Latin is permitted (yes, in the Mass of Vatican II) and pastors were encouraged to effect an enormous reduction of Extraordinary “Ministers” of Holy Communion. Pastors were permitted to eradicate reception of Holy Communion in the hand. Free-floating chalices were to be retracted anytime the Most Precious Blood of Jesus could be spilled. All of this is in Redemptionis Sacramentum, an official post-Vatican II document giving guidelines for the Mass of Paul VI.
But ad orientem worship was prohibited this past year as a clamp-down against Cardinal Sarah’s call for ad orientem Novus Ordo Masses (an echo of his African predecessor, Cardinal Arinze who wrote RS.) The few priests who try to do the new Mass according to its own rules are sent to the boondocks of their diocese. Priests who preach the truth of the Gospel are more and more frequently going into exile like this courageous priest from San Diego.
On this one point I agree with the theology of Bergoglio more than the theology of Ratzinger: There is no hermeneutic of continuity after Vatican II. The former has not said so specifically, but that is clearly his message in every conference, every week. Ratizinger’s envisioned “hermeneutic of continuity” was that the traditional doctrine, life and liturgy of Catholics would eventually make peace with, say, the progressive Cardinals of Northern Europe. Benedict tried to win them to his mild form of orthodoxy. How did they respond? They did something so mysterious that Dutch radio reported “that Ratzinger resigned because of” Cardinal Danneels and his friends. Benedict apparently denies this: 1 However, he looks strangely tired in every picture I see of him. Is he just old? Perhaps, but he actually looks disoriented, which I think is suspicious. Before he gave up the battle, his eyes seemed to say: “I am for peace, but when I speak, they are for war.”—Psalm 119/120.
I believe that the primary driver for the spiritual attack against Pope Benedict was indeed his decree of Summorum Pontificum. Why? Neither Pope Benedict nor his earthly enemies know this, but demons know that Summorum Pontificum is the priest’s main link back to a Mass that the Council of Trent calls “Apostolic.” This would mean that Benedict somewhat-naively re-released the single greatest weapon of spiritual warfare for the good guys. 2
Even if I am wrong about my above speculations, most people agree that the days of feigned peace between traditional liturgy and wacky doctrines are long gone. Many men in power are now promoting a Hegelian dialectic where the “spirit” changes with human authority. The new Mass is no longer controlled through the lens of Church History, but through a nominalism condemned in Pope Benedict’s 2006 Regensburg address against Islam. Nominalism means authority can function in a manner willy-nilly: For example, the Vatican may or may not be currently in the works of fabricating an “Ecumenical Rite of Mass” for joint worship with Protestants. Or, consider how random it is that priests in Rome are being admonished to abandon daily Mass in favor of group concelebration.
Nominalism is the name of the game in the implementation of the new Mass. But is it only the implementation? Archbishop Bugnini said that he wrote the new Mass so that every parish be different in its celebration from the neighboring parish. See how wave-after-wave of semi-conservative young priests coming through the rank and file of America’s seminaries (with the promethean task of “doing the new Mass the right way”) always end up subsumed into the squishy pastoral-goo of parish life that has bled between 15 million and 20 million Catholics in the West following Vatican II. Sheep without shepherds. Soft-will-to power attracts few manly men to worship. (But go see a Traditional Latin Mass parish and you will find at least one military family, if not many.)
The few young priests who shield their conscience in choosing the 1962 sacraments (as allowed by Summorum Pontificum) face a harsher punishment: Just two weeks ago, a bishop asked his own priest (who I know very well!) to leave the priesthood and be “laicized.” Look: Bishops don’t even ask priests caught in homosexual relationships to be “laicized.” This is additional proof that there is something more than natural attack (read: preternatural attack) coming against Summorum Pontificium and the 1962 sacraments.
CS Lewis once wrote, “We all want progress, but if you’re on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; in that case, the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive.” The combination of Summorum Pontificum and the sad state of Rome-today ironically work towards the same goal: Priests will have to choose either a Mass that was designed with ambiguity (and is thus susceptible to a Hegelian dialectic of theology and Nietzsche’s will-to-power under the prelate-flavor of the day…) or choose a Mass that goes back to the fourth century, nearly unchanged, nearly unchange-able. Yes, it is becoming clear that the new Mass will never follow the rules of Redemptionis Sacramentum in even putatively-conservative dioceses of the world (except maybe Lincoln and Arlington?) In any case, it seems that Summorum Pontificum is currently the West’s only spelunking rope in a dark cave back to the light of what the Council of Trent calls “an Apostolic Mass.”
Summorum Pontificum colliding with the current circus maximus of Rome actually creates a fork in the road where there is no more grey zone, no more sitting on the fence. Finally, America’s smiley seminarians will have to man-up and choose either the living tradition of Divine Revelation or an ecumenical concelebration ad absurdum. The latter is possible, considering that progressive prelates are tolerant of everything except the hermeneutic of continuity. If I am right on this, then this means that Summorum Pontificum is currently the only road back to tradition. It is a road fraught with thorns and priestly betrayal. Such is the glory of the cross.
“There is absolutely no doubt regarding the validity of my resignation from the Petrine ministry,”—Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI, expressed in a letter to the Italian website Vatican Insider. ↩
The so-called “extraordinary form” of the Mass was ordinary in the early Church, for the Notre Dame publication The Liturgy Revived: A Doctrinal Commentary on the Conciliar Constitution on the Liturgy, shows that although this Mass was first in Greek, the translation of the Roman Canon was done carefully over 120 years, culminating sometime between 350 and 382 with the current Roman Canon. (Notice how long a liturgical translation should take: Over 100 years!) The Roman Canon was used, not the prayer of St. Hippolytus which was injected into the new Eucharistic Prayer II in the 1960s. In fact, the prayer of St. Hippolytus was simply a personal prayer, not a liturgical one. Why we were taught that this was an ancient liturgy in seminary is beyond me. The truth is that Hippolytus’ prayer was probably injected into the puny Eucharistic Prayer II in an Italian coffeeshop in one night following Vatican II. This is no substitute for the Roman Canon, because what is known by the past two Popes as “the extraordinary form of the Roman Rite” was known as “ordinary” for about 250+ Popes. How is this an unruptured hermeneutic of continuity? Unless, of course, Pope Benedict meant it as a theological sleight of hand in favor of the Traditional Latin Mass, since the Mass is by its very nature “extraordinary”! But I highly doubt it. ↩
I have only been a priest for seven years. About halfway through that period, I switched from the Novus Ordo to the Traditional Latin Mass and sacraments. It was also during this time that I stopped saying a line that I was famous for in seminary: “We do not have a crisis of sacraments. We have a crisis of catechesis.” I used to say this because I knew how many people received Holy Communion in this country without knowing Who they were receiving. In fact, I put my money where my mouth was: As a young priest, I taught a Eucharistic class just off-campus of Colorado State University, a school with 33,000 students. I called my class “Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist” after this excellent book by Dr. Brandt Pitre. Most weeks I had about 50 CSU students attending that class. Their hunger and faithfulness was my proof that “we do not have a crisis of sacraments but a crisis of catechesis.” And the students responded with fervor and a greater Eucharistic love.
Programs like Catholic Formed now flood the American parishes of younger priests and more orthodox older pastors. Formed is a new video program of catechesis designed to invite the ordinary Sunday Catholic into a deeper formation of video catechesis. These movies include good information on the sacraments, moral teaching, salvation history and Catholic Church history. Formed features the common lineup of orthodox lay Catholic celebrities who have gained their fame in apologetics and chastity topics. They really do a good job at tackling our current crisis of catechesis. But do we really have a crisis of catechesis instead of the sacraments as I had said for most of my priesthood?
Since switching to the Traditional Latin Mass, I have seen that most of our modern catechetical methods are geared exclusively towards the intellect. For example, the average rich, suburban American parish now has a small handful of devoted Catholics who would not have believed in the True Presence of Christ in the Eucharist had they not read a Scott Hahn book. And God bless Scott Hahn for his great intellectual work.
But notice that in the previous paragraph I purposely used the word “rich, suburban parish.” By and large, these are the decent parishes which (thankfully!) have moved past the 1970s catechesis of exclusively-social-justice materials. Formed and That Man is You and Scott Hahn “book clubs” are all great for budding intellectuals who don’t have to work 80 hours a week on a Louisiana oil barge. But what happens to the run-of-the-mill poor Catholic? How does the blue collar worker (who might be too busy to read a book by Tim Staples) receive catechesis on the sacraments?
The answer is that for thousands of years, the catechesis happened by kneeling at Holy Mass. I do not mean that Mass is enough to catechize ourselves. I mean that the serious Catholic learned and prayed during the week as best he could. Then on Sunday, everything he learned or offered was forged in a mysterious and powerful ritual that incorporated all his senses, his intellect, his will. He would have have to kneel for most of the Mass. There was no question in his mind that he had to be “set apart” in baptism and grace to do something as strange as receive Holy Communion, even in poor mission countries of the illiterate. He might wonder: Why did he have to kneel at an altar rail? He stuck his tongue out while the priest blessed him with the Son of God. If not a sign of the majesty of God…if not a sign of the chasm between Creator and creature…this ritual was simply too weird for a non-Catholic to approach the ancient ritual! In other words, the Traditional Latin Mass engenders catechesis because it engenders automatic reverence and intimacy (or total rejection if one finds it “weird.”) The average illiterate Catholic learned that Jesus was truly present by simply attending Mass. He did not need a book tailored to a bourgeois intellectual group to tell us the Mass is still “valid” even if it doesn’t appear to be so:
It would take a PhD from the University of Dallas to accurately explain how this this is the sacrifice of Calvary.
On the other hand, an exhausted marine is easily forced to his knees with his head down at the Traditional Latin Mass in Saipan during the Pacific Theatre of World War II:
My sister and her husband are raising their children in a Byzantine Rite of the Catholic Church. My niece began prostrating at the age of 18 months at the right time of the Divine Liturgy. She had learned by a full-body experience that she is not God. She learns to adore God and to prostrate before him even before she learns the term “transubstantiation” (a term she may never learn in the East.) But she already knows that her Mom is not allowed to hand out the Holy Eucharist in that Divine Liturgy. There is an iconostasis separating everyone from the Holy of Holies, the Eucharist. That teaches a lot.
For nearly 2,000 years, the ancient liturgies of both East and West had catechesis built-in in a way that was not hyper-intellectualized. Catholicism needs to be accessible to the illiterate (as much as to the Christendom College grad student.) The above picture of the soldiers kneeling for the Traditional Latin Mass is the perfect example of this. Catechesis was a full-body experience of the majesty of God. For centuries, Catholic learning was done in all five senses: The sight of the priest facing God, the smells of the incense, the sounds of angelic Gregorian chant. Yes, all of these can be done in the Novus Ordo, but it is not just the externals of the Mass. Rather, I am talking about the substance of tradition that was passed on within every sacrament, and substituted only 50 years ago. For example, when I used to do the new anointing of the sick, I put a little oil put on the head and then I moved on to the next hospital room. Now, in extreme unction, I anoint the mouth, the nose, the ears, the eyes, the feet, the hands and the forehead. It’s not my personal catechesis of the sacrament. It is required in the rite, probably anointing all those body parts since the time that St. James wrote about it in the Bible.
Everything in these sacraments (which can be traced back to the 6th century at the latest) taught man and woman that there exists a chasm between Creator and creature. The illiterate Catholic learned about the majesty of God and the evil of his own sin by simply hearing that he had to have his sins forgiven, those he had committed with his eyes, ears, hands, even nose, as the old rite extreme unction strangely says. (What sins can be committed by smell!?) And yet, it is not strange. It is beautiful, for the ancient prayers for the commendation of the dying call more frequently on God’s mercy than anything I have seen in the new anointing books.
Yes, the rich Catholics of America now have a library of books by Steubenville grads. And I like these books. But they are all a replacement of what Catholicism taught by it’s very nature: A full-bodied, full-person experience of the majesty of God. The intellectual side was not as emphasized. The reason the Novus Ordo rites invite an over-intellectualization of the Catholic faith is first of all because the author of these rites, Archbishop Bugnini, actually consulted with five or six Protestants to write it. (Remember, faith for Protestants is a Credal and emotional act, where for Catholics, the Faith is best summarized in the book of Romans as “the obedience of faith.”) But because the new rites do not carry much physical actions, the lacunae must be filled by lay apologists. God bless them, but they should know that their jobs are concessionary existences for what we priests and the ancient rites used to carry in our very being.
Maybe the best would be to keep producing the Steubenville books but return to all the 1962 sacraments. That way, the new presentation practiced by the Church Fathers could be forged in the very sacraments of the Church Fathers (erroneously named the “Tridentine Mass,” since the Traditional Latin Mass was nearly-fully crystallized between 350 AD and 380 AD.) By contrast, the changes of the past 50 years to the liturgy present us some sad challenges, especially since we live in a era that has little time for intellectual or aesthetical learning on the mysteries of God:
“The challenge becomes more difficult because one of the peculiarities of the old rite is that it makes itself accessible only slowly—unless the uninitiated newcomer to this ancient pattern of worship is a religious genius. One has never ‘learned everything there is to learn’ about the Roman Rite, because in its very origin and essence this enduring and truly extraordinary form is hermetic, presupposing arcane discipline and rigorous initiation…The great damage caused by the liturgical revolution after Vatican II consists above all in the way in which the Church lost the conviction with which all Catholics—illiterate goatherds, maids and laborers, Descartes and Pascal—naturally took part in the Church’s sacred worship. Up until then, the rite was among the riches of the poor, who, through it, entered into a world that was otherwise closed to them. They experienced in the old Mass the life to come as well as life in the present, an experience of which only artists and mystics are otherwise capable.”—Martin Mosebach, Return to Form, Crisis Magazine.
I experienced what Mosebach writes about during my mission trips to poor nations around the world. During my second trip to India, I lived with some lay American missionaries in Kolkata. One night, a mix of Americans and Indians were having a conversation about the Catholic Church. A 45 year old Indian was very thankful that Vatican II opened to Indians a deeper understanding of the Mass, now that they understood the language of the service. When posed with the question “Why do you go to Holy Mass?” he and I both agreed that most young Catholics from both the United States and India would say “To receive Jesus in the Eucharist.” We were both content that this is a better answer than the 1970s answer: “I go to Mass because of the community.”
However, I then reminded my new Indian friend about the history of Indian Catholicism. I reminded him about the missions of St. Francis Xavier and I said: “Any of your ancestors evangelized by St. Francis Xavier would have described the Mass with one word that your friends and my missionary friends would not use: Sacrifice. An illiterate 16th century Indian farmer or a little girl in Chicago in the 1940s Catholic school system would give the same description: ‘The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.’ Why wouldn’t your friends or my missionary friends in the United States use that word ’sacrifice’?” I suspect that the absence of this term (even among relatively-orthdox young Catholics) is because the New Mass no longer looks like a Jewish priest at a Jewish sacrifice. It no longer feels like that. That is why people think they have to receive Holy Communion at Mass, no matter what, even if they’re in mortal sin. The True Presence is all they have.
I don’t mean to downplay the beauty of the answer, “The True Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist.” But the liturgical reality of “sacrifice” is still of supreme importance to the most proletariat of Sunday-Mass goers. Current liturgical theology maintains that the Eucharist is confected by the priest, but rarely is it mentioned by even orthodox CCD teachers that this happens within the very sacrifice of Calvary re-presented. Never have I heard it mentioned from a “JPII-generation Catholic” or even a professor at my seminary what constitutes the nature of the sacrifice of the Mass: The separation of the body and blood of Jesus, under the species of the double consecration of bread and wine. In fact, one “very conservative” nun who taught us sacramental theology mocked this theology as merely devotional. She did not want to hear me point out that this was what was taught by everyone from St. Gregory Nazienzen to the Council of Trent to Archbishop Fulton Sheen.
Even if you don’t remember the above reasons for why the Mass is a sacrifice, remember this: Sacrifice is key to explaining the Mass. You can’t just say “Jesus is really present in the Eucharist.” Why? Because the presence of God without sacrifice is Protestantism. The Franciscan University grads will talk all day about the Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, but rarely will they speak of the sacrifice of the Mass. Perhaps that is why their divorce rate is the nearly the same as they rest of the nation: They want presence without sacrifice. 1
Our Faith is founded on the Holy Sacrifice of Calvary, which is the same as the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. For somewhere between 1500 years and 2000 years, Western Rites Catholics were always seen kneeling for about 75% of the duration of the Mass. All this kneeling taught something important to their children, children who could be found worshipping on their knees throughout the old Roman Empires, in Los Angeles in 1925 or off a river in Goa in 1540. Yes, children would have knelt before a sacrifice of Calvary that took place at the hands of St. Francis Xavier who baptized hundreds of thousands with those very same hands. They knew Who was in his hands was somehow even greater than the saint, for the saint himself would kneel before the King of Kings (even if a Jesuit comrade to follow him would not kneel before the Eucharist five hundred years later.)
The conversation with that 45 year old Indian man continued in some different directions that night. About 20 minutes after the above conversation, he started explaining to me how important religion is in India. He said whenever there is a religious event, dizzying myriads of worshippers show up: Be it Hindu, be it Muslim, Be it Sikh, Be it Christian, there are hundreds of thousands or even millions of people who come to worship in pilgrimage. He told me about how 100,000 Catholics will frequently show up at a devotional event that has only one altar. Thus, the 8am Mass (on that single altar) will be in Tamil for 10,000 Catholics. The 9am Mass will be in Bengali for another 10,000 pilgrims. The 10am Mass will be in Hindi and the noon Mass will be in English. The 45 year old Indian had just forgotten about our mild debate on Vatican II just 20 minutes earlier, but I wanted to gently bring him back to that discussion on Vatican II. So, I broached the subject lightly by asking him: “And what did all Indian Catholics do before Vatican II?” The good Indian man hung his head a little. He quietly replied: “We all worshipped together.”
I brought this well-repeated but undocumented statistic of FUS divorce to a friend who used to work for the development department of Franciscan University of Steubenville. I immediately believed he would balk at it, but to my surprise, he admitted it was true. To this day, I do not have statistics to back this up. However, several reputable sources have told me that this is true. This means that the national divorce rate is about 50%. The national Catholic divorce rate is about 50%. The divorce rate for FUS would therefore also be about 50%. However, this was told to me about 10 years ago, so I hope things have changed. I imagine that the rate has lessened, since most FUS grads are at least intellectually (there’s that word again!) against contraception. But for Catholics who live a life without contraception, the divorce rate is 3% in all studies averaged. That 3% is the average of numerous studies that are all statistically significant, including large populations sampled. ↩
Filmed in Louisiana on Christmas 2016
How to make of your life an offering to God.
One of the reasons I love the Traditional Latin Mass is because the Collect (the beginning prayer to God after the Introit and the Kyrie) usually links heaven and earth. For example, the collect of the votive Mass of St. Joseph reads:
Oh God, who in Thine unspeakable Providence didst vouchsafe to choose blessed Joseph for Thy most holy Mother’s spouse, grant we beseech Thee, that we who revere him as our protector upon earth, may become worthy to have him for our intercessor in heaven.
I have wondered for a few years why the old Mass always ties heaven to earth in the opening prayer. It has to be for more than saccharinely-sweet reasons of saintly piety. It is probably because the prayers of everyone are collected and given to the Blessed Trinity through the sacred humanity of Jesus Christ who is fully God and fully man. God the Son is everywhere on the planet, but only in Catholic and Orthodox tabernacles can we find Jesus of Nazareth in His humanity. The hypostatic union is the ancient teaching that Jesus Christ is one Divine Person subsisting in two natures, human and divine, and so both must be included in the collect.
So, look again at the prayer of St. Joseph above. Heaven and earth do not meet in St. Joseph, but they do meet in Jesus Christ, and St. Joseph participates in this. Thus, we ask Joseph’s protection on earth by being an intercessor in heaven. This collect launches us into the frightful but awesome reality we approach later in the Mass: We are transported outside of time to be at the foot of Calvary where Jesus was murdered. Remember that Jesus is 100% God and 100% man.
Many heretics in the days of the early Church believed that Jesus was God, but doubted that He lived a full experience on earth as man (the heresy of docetism.) Other heretics in the early Church believed that Jesus died but was not God (Arianism—still around.) But the opening collects of the old Mass prevent this way of thinking: By connecting heaven and earth, we begin to see the reality of the hypostatic union in the Eucharistic sacrifice: God dies—not as God—but as a man, and the Mass is this very separation of His body and blood, comprising His death. Later, we receive His resurrected body and blood in every host!
Besides adoration, thanksgiving, reparation and petition, there is something comforting about the hypostatic union that we approach at Mass, beginning at the opening collect. Start with this: Think about your favorite interaction with Jesus and someone in the Gospel. Maybe it’s Mary Magdalene. Maybe it is Peter. Maybe it is the woman whose daughter has a demon. Jesus could look at any person and at that moment, He immediately knew that only He could die for that person because Jesus was the only one more hurt by sin than that individual was. This is because He is God.
But as man, Jesus had His heart pierced. On the Cross, present in the Eucharist, His Divine-human heart was already bursting in pain and sorrow and longing for every human that has ever lived or was living or will live—you and me. He knew outside of time every one of your thoughts, dreams, pains, sins, merits, joys and sufferings. In the offertory of the Mass, we bring our best intentions and our broken hearts. And at the consecration, we on earth are lifted to heaven, but we are not out of place any more: To have our tiny human hearts stretched and broken for the life of the world—this is what it means to console the heart of Jesus Christ.
In suspected Eucharistic miracles, the Eucharistic host in question is brought to secular histologists (experts of human tissue.) What looks like bread, tastes like bread and smells like bread is always found to be cardiac tissue just like the above miracle of Lanciano, revealing still-incorrupt human tissue, even though it started as bread in a doubting priest’s hands over 1000 years ago. This means that the Eucharist is the fullness of Christ, but the Eucharist is especially the physical heart of Jesus of Nazareth whom we receive.
Only Jesus’ heart is fully God and fully man.