For a laugh I want to post a poem I was sent by a Protestant friend of mine which “disproves” the Real Presence
A pretty girl, a Protestant, was to a Catholic wed,
To love all Bible truths and tales quite early she’d been bred.
It sorely grieved her husband’s heart that she would not comply, And join the Mother Church of Rome and heretics deny.
So day by day he flattered her but still she saw no good
Would ever come from bowing down to idols made of wood.
The Mass, the host, the miracles were made but to deceive,
And transubstantiation too she’d never dare believe,
He went to see his parish priest and told him his sad tale,
“My wife’s an unbeliever, sir, perhaps you can prevail.
For all your Romish miracles my wife has strong aversion,
To really work a miracle may lead to her conversion.”
The priest went with the gentleman, he thought to gain a prize,
He said, “I will convert her, sir, and open both her eyes.”
So when they came into the house, the husband loudly cried, “The priest has come to dine with us!” “He’s welcome,” she replied.
When at last the meal was over the priest at once began
To teach his hostess all about the sinful state of man.
The greatness of our Savior’s love, which Christians can’t deny,
To give Himself as sacrifice and for our sins to die.
“I will return tomorrow, lass, prepare some bread and wine:
The sacramental miracle will stop your soul’s decline.”
“I’ll bake the bread,” the lady said. “You may,” he did reply.
“And when you’ve seen the miracle, convinced you’ll be say I.”
The priest did come accordingly, the bread and wine did bless. The lady asked, “Sir, is it changed?” The priest he answered "Yes.
It’s changed from common bread and wine to truly flesh and blood, Begorra, lass! This power of mine has changed it into God!
So having blessed the bread and wine to eat they did prepare,
The lady said unto the priest, "I warn you to take care.
For half an ounce of arsenic was baked into the batter,
But since you have its nature changed, it cannot really matter.
The priest he was struck dumb and looked as pale as death.
The bread and wine fell from his hands and he did gasp for breath. “Bring me my horse!” the priest cried. “This is a cursed home!” “Be gone,” the lady replied, “tis you who’s cursed of Rome.”
The husband too he sat surprised and not a word did say.
At last he spoke, “My dear,” he said, “the priest has run away,
To gulp such foolishness and tripe, I’m not for sure quite able,
I’ll go with you and will renounce the Roman Catholic fable.”
Author unknown
Although I disagree with the poem, it is the idea that the priest has the power to call Jesus down from Heaven into the host that I have an issue with. It is
Jesus who has the power to be present in the Eucharist and I do not doubt His presence in Communion. But for the bread and wine to “become” Jesus’ body and blood, but only if you are a Catholic priest is surely to put limitations on God?
The inference is that the priest has the power to put Jesus in the host (this is why it must be a
Catholic priest because no other priest has that power). But the power is God’s, not man’s, so why couldn’t Jesus be present there because He wills it? Why the need for a Priest to “put Him there?” That is what I fail to understand…