Take and Eat
Open Vault: October 2021
Way back in June (2021), when it became clear that the American bishops were going to have to be dealing with this issue, I wrote a few posts on “eucharistic coherence.” In order not to interrupt the extremely smooth flow of this post, I’ll link them at the end.
As that gathering comes every nearer, I thought I’d toss a bit more food for thought out into the scrum, because that initial burst was by no means complete.
Here’s my basic point, articulated in those older posts and reiterated right here: The conversation about this needs to be much, much more transparent and forthright about history and much less about teams, points and winning.
Because as it stands – that’s pretty much where it stands. And it’s insulting.
And yes, it seems to me that transparency and honesty starts with history.
Surprised? Probably not. Because that’s the theme of this space, isn’t it? Study history and you’ll be smarter, you’ll make better decisions, and you’ll lessen your risk of being driven mad by the present.
It’s really quite important here. We have (wait for it) two thousand years’ worth of grappling with this question to help us. Further, we have two thousand years’ worth of practice and tradition with which our current practice must, in every sense possible, be consistent.
It won’t be identical, because times change. But it must be consistent.
And because we are Catholic, rooted in both Scripture and Tradition, present practice cannot be discussed and determined based only on what a few people confidently assure us the “Spirit” is moving us towards in the present moment, and you know if you don’t buy what they’re selling, well, you’re pretty rigid, aren’t you?
So let’s start with some background. If you’re really interested, and I presume if you’ve read this far, you might be.
I’m going to give you a couple of links, and then I’m going to follow up much later today with some thoughts based on those links.
So first, the late Fr. John Hardon, S.J.’s 1955 paper from Theological Studies, “Historical Antecedents of St. Pius X’s Decree on Frequent Communion.” It’s a pdf, and while it may sound boring – well, Hardon was an excellent, clear writer, and I promise you, if you are not familiar with the history of this issue, you will learn a lot.
Frequent reception of Communion has almost always been the goal of the Church, in its broadest sense, since the beginning.
In the Early Church, the assumption was that if one was in attendance at the celebration of the Lord’s Supper, one ate. This is clear from the writings of the Fathers.
However, this wasn’t because “everyone was welcome at the table.”
Because, you know, everyone wasn’t.
It was because the assumption was if you were present, you were intentional about it and committed to the Body of Christ in every way. To use later terminology – if you even showed up, it was a sign that you were “properly disposed.”
Anyone else, who might have separated himself from that table….he just….wasn’t there. He was, literally, ex-communicated, doing public penance, not permitted to gather with the rest of the community. Because he’d removed himself from it by his actions or beliefs.
Then:
Enter mass conversions, infant baptism as the norm, Catholicism as a social, cultural and political framework for European communities, private confession and the Sunday obligation – and you have a rather different crowd around the table, don’t you?
Maybe not so intentional anymore.
But, as Hardon – and Pius – note, through the centuries, Catholics still had been exhorted, even as popular piety and theological trends discouraged them – to approach the altar and receive Communion. The Jansenists were the major force against this (thoroughly treated in both documents), and the battle has been waged ever since, despite the condemnation of Jansenism as, yes, a heresy.
But here’s the thing – and this is what I’m going to begin with next time.
This is very, very important to remember – along with those changing circumstances I noted above.
When Pius X and so many others encouraged – enthusiastically, consistently – encouraged regular, frequent reception of Communion, they did so rooted in certain assumptions about who they were addressing and what the spiritual journey was all about.
Maybe flipping it around to the issue of infrequent Communion will help clarify.
What you see in spiritual writers throughout Catholic history, is, yes, a condemnation of consciously infrequent Communion.
Why?
Was it because they wanted everyone to feel welcome?
Was it because they were concerned that all feel a part of the Church, that no one feel excluded or on the margins?
No.
It’s mostly because staying away from the Eucharist was interpreted as a sign of spiritual sloth. Spiritual coolness. A lack of piety and devotion.
St. Ignatius of Loyola, for example:
In the early Church members of both sexes received Communion daily as soon as they were old enough. But soon devotion began to cool, and Communion became weekly. Then after a considerable interval of time, as devotion became still more cool, Communion was received on only three of the principal feasts of the year… . And finally, because of our weakness and indifference, we have ended with once a year. You would think we are Christian only in name, to see us so calmly accepting the condition to which the greater part of mankind has come.
(What an interesting conversation that would be: to hash out, without rancor or name-calling how, in one era, the masses staying away from the Eucharist was seen by some as a sign of spiritual indifference, and then in another, how regular reception of the Eucharist by the masses is seen by some…as a sign of spiritual indifference. )
So, as St. Ignatius and others imply, if you didn’t receive Communion, that possibly meant you weren’t spending the energy preparing yourself to receive Communion – you weren’t striving to put away sin, you were attached to the flesh, and in general, conforming your life to Christ wasn’t your priority.
At root, staying away from Communion, while sometimes laudatory and an indication of spiritual self-awareness, could also be an indication that the person didn’t want to change or be more deeply conformed to Christ, akin to catechumens in the early Church delaying and delaying baptism because they didn’t want to give up their worldly positions and privileges.
Do you get it?
The assumption was that if a person is receiving the Eucharist, they were intentional about it. That they were aware of what it meant to be part of this Body of Christ – what those who belong believe and how they act in the world – and were actively trying to live in that way. The Eucharist was not about confirming Catholic identity, being invited to the party, or having a sign that God was with you in a vague sense, accepting you just as you are, you gorgeous thing.
To receive the Eucharist was an act of devotion – but it wasn’t a static devotion. It was part of a serious relationship between Christ and the believer, the believer stepping forward to be fed because this is life now: It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.
So again – take a look at Hardon’s paper. There’s a lot of food for thought there.