Jesus is the Christ: A response to Msgr. Kevin Irwin

A recent piece by Msgr. Kevin Irwin in America has garnered attention. The article was originally titled “The Eucharist is the body of Christ, not the body of Jesus,” which left many scratching their heads. The new title, “Language matters. The Eucharist is more than the ‘body of Jesus’” does not alleviate the itch. What does Msgr. Irwin say?

Msgr. Irwin warns that “Tampering with words and tinkering with ceremonies can only lead down a slippery slope. Church words and actions are a very large matter.” Indeed! This is why the Church has consistently and insistently, from Sacrosanctum Concilium to Traditiones Custodes, exhorted priests not to change the texts of the Mass or ad lib words or actions in the sacred liturgy.

What is surprising is that Msgr. Irwin’s target for these critiques is not priests who change the words of the Mass, but the common practice (apparently widespread in the materials produced by the National Eucharistic Revival) of referring to the “real presence of Jesus” in the Eucharist.

The crux of his argument is summed up in this paragraph:

To describe the Eucharist as the “body of Jesus” or “the real presence of Jesus” would be too limiting to the historical body and earthly reality of the Word made flesh and the incarnate Son of God. The “body of Christ” refers to the entirety of the mystery of the totality of Christ: his whole earthly ministry and also his suffering, death, resurrection and ascension to the Father’s right hand to intercede for us in heaven. The Eucharist is the real presence of this body of Christ, not Jesus only.

It appears that Msgr. Irwin’s worry is that by using the term “real presence of Jesus,” the faithful might develop the idea that they are only receiving the humanity of Jesus. Or that they are somehow going back in time to commune with Jesus prior to His glorification after His Resurrection and Ascension.

Having been educated by Dominicans, I cannot help but react to this piece by saying, “Let’s define some terms and draw some distinctions.”

Words are signs that point to realities. But words can be said to operate in two ways: denotatively and connotatively. Denotation refers to the relationship between the word and reality, between the sign and the thing signified. Connotation refers to the wider net of associations we make either with a word or with the thing signified by the word, or both. So, denotatively, the word “human” refers to a rational animal, and the words “Nicholas Senz” refer to the rational animal who is the author of this article. Connotatively, “human” may mean “the pinnacle of creation” or “the enemy of the environment,” and “Nicholas Senz” might mean “nobody” or “that guy who has all the correct basketball opinions on Twitter.”

Different words might refer to the same reality, but operate in different registers. J.R.R. Tolkien noted this distinction:

The meaning of fine words cannot be made ‘obvious,’ for it is not obvious to any one: least of all to adults, who have stopped listening to the sound because they think they know the meaning. They think argent ‘means’ silver. But it does not. It and silver have a reference to x or the chemical Ag, but in each x is clothed in a totally different phonetic incarnation: x+y or x+z; and these do not have the same meaning, not only because they sound different and so arouse different responses, but also because they are not in fact used when talking about Ag in the same way. It is better, I think, at any rate to begin with, to hear ‘argent’ as a sound only (z without x) in a poetic context, than to think ‘it only means silver.’ There is some chance then that you may like it for itself, and later learn to appreciate the heraldic overtones it has, in addition to its own peculiar sound, which ‘silver’ has not. I think this writing down, flattening, Bible-in-basic-English attitude is responsible for the fact that so many older children and younger people have little respect and no love for words, and very limited vocabularies—and alas! Little desire left (even when they had the gift which has been stultified) to refine or enlarge them. (Letters, p. 234)

Msgr. Irwin is right to say that we don’t often pay attention to all the connotations a word might hold. Too often we think one word is just as good as another, when in reality the words convey different ideas or sentiments. I prefer my children call me “Dad” rather than “Nick,” just as I prefer my co-workers call me “Nick” rather than “Mr. Senz” or “you big oaf.” They might all refer to the same reality, but they carry different (some less desirable) associations. They change the way we relate to each other.

Yet this is a fine line we walk. When we draw distinctions that are not meaningful, substantive, or relevant, we are being pedantic. But when we fail to draw distinctions that would help us to achieve greater understanding of an idea or reality, we are being obtuse.

So, in this case, which side does Msgr. Irwin fall on? Well, once again, let’s draw a distinction.

Msgr. Irwin is right to say that we should be attentive to the words that we use. Tolkien would agree with Msgr. Irwin that the terms “Jesus Christ” or “the Lord Jesus Christ” do indeed have a distinct flavor that simply saying “Jesus” does not.

However, his critique goes too far. If the question we are asking is, “What (or who) is the Eucharist?” it is not at all incorrect or inaccurate to say, “Jesus.” Whether we call Him by the name Jesus, or Jesus Christ, or the Lord, or the Lord Jesus Christ, or Yeshua Nasrani, we are referring to the same reality: the Word made flesh, the Son of God Incarnate.

If one says that Jesus refers only to the humanity of Christ, one is materially a Nestorian. If one insists on using Christ as a title referring to the whole mystery of the life of the Son of God Incarnate, we might note that He was called “the Christ” during His earthly ministry, prior to His Passion, Death, and Resurrection. At Caesarea Philippi, Jesus asked His apostles, “Who do you say that I am?” St. Peter responded, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (Matt 16:16).

Title Christology—examining the mystery of Christ according to the different terms by which we call him—can be a useful catechetical exercise. It can draw out different aspects of the mystery of the Incarnation. But if we reify the different titles as if they refer to different realities, different substances, and different persons, we’ve gone too far.

Msgr. Irwin begins and ends his article by quoting Mark Twain: “The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter. ’Tis the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning.” The point of Twain’s quote, though, is that a lightning bug is not lightning.

But Jesus is the Christ. I fear that Msgr. Irwin has split this hair too fine.