I would think in fact that all it requires, to remain ongoing, is an instance in which, as Jesus said, “two or three gather in my name.”

Of course, ‘Christendom’ is an antiquated term, but the idea it represents isn’t antiquated, but is contemporary and ongoing.

But evidence for which, if you happen to be interested in that kind of thing (and I recommend it only insofar as it can kindle one’s faith, rather than make of that faith something needy and inconstant), can be found in the many Eucharistic miracles that have occurred here and there, in Christendom, since the 8th century.

Which the cynical and sophomoric will ridicule and make light of, because it permits itself to be vulnerable to that (even if it doesn’t invite it), just as our Lord permitted himself to be vulnerable to mockery and vitriol during his Passion.

In any case, that little Communion wafer which looks so simple and so humble (because it is), becomes, after the prayers of consecration, what we refer to as the ‘host’ (from the Latin hostia, meaning ‘sacrificial victim’). And is, from the view of the faithful, certainly the body of Christ (not a symbol of it but the actual flesh, albeit in the ‘species’ of unleavened bread).

Because the allures of it are, at bottom, empty.

Meaning, sin has a way of bringing us to dissipation, anxiety, and unease, even if at first it appears it will not do so.

Which is to say that these consequences are of a spiritual order, even if they become evident in our material or ‘sensate’ lives (which invariably they do).

The least of which consequences (in the case of ignorance) would be, I suppose, something like an absence of efficacy in the sacrament (though who is to say what Christ will produce in a soul who comes in contact with Him, however casually or offhandedly); and the greatest of which consequences (in the case of irreverence or sacrilege) would involve an offense against God that can do only injury to the soul who has decided to perpetrate it.

Because to receive the Blessed Sacrament when one has not (to use Paul’s word) ‘examined’ oneself is to betray, either purposely or inadvertently, an ignorance of (or disregard for) the significance of the encounter in which one has become a participant; the consequences of which will vary in degree, if not in kind, regardless of whether the person believes in the reality of those consequences.

And not intended as a legalism, or a form of control, but a means by which a person might make themself receptive to the sacrament.

The word ‘examine’ here referring to one’s conscience, and to the judgments one might apply to oneself, as a result.

This in addition to what Saint Paul writes, in his first letter to the Corinthians (included in the New Testament): “Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord. Let a man examine himself, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup.”

Which understanding, or conception, isn’t new, but derives from the early Church. A document known as the Didache (Greek for ‘Teaching’, from 70 A.D.), states, for example, with regard to the Eucharist: “Whosoever is holy [i.e., in a state of grace], let him approach. Whosoever is not, let him repent.”

Which means, essentially, having gone to the sacrament of reconciliation at least once since the occasion of our last mortal sin.

Which isn’t to say that we need not be mindful of the condition of our soul, before we go to Holy Communion; we are in fact asked by the Church to be in what is described as a ‘state of grace’.

Which reminds me of something that Saint John Bosco (a 19th century Italian priest from Turin) once said: “We do not go to Holy Communion because we are good; we go to become good.”

Meaning, we do not need to be perfect to receive the Blessed Sacrament, which of course no one is anyway, nor can ever be.

Though even if our belief is shaky, the Eucharist will still be efficacious, so that one might say that regularity and humility are enough (to the extent that they get us to go to Mass, and to Holy Communion), and might eventually produce belief, where belief is wanting (if not completely absent).

My point being, however, that this ‘lack’ and this ‘restlessness’ that I mentioned earlier, and which are so profound that they often bring about the sickness of addiction, due to the maladaptive ways we try to cope with them, is addressed finally, and I think centrally, in the offering of the Mass, and more particularly in the Eucharist, which is a ‘meal’ that will, among other things, fill that ‘lack’ and that ‘restlessness’, if we orient ourselves to it with something like regularity, humility, and belief.