A Romantic Yearning for Our Eucharistic Lord?

Crisis Magazine has published a piece by Richard Becker entitled A Romantic Yearning for Our Eucharistic Lord. Naturally this talk of 'romantic yearning' immediately sent my eyebrows into a rather supercilious and skeptical posture. ('Romantic yearning,' you say? That sounds... 'romantic.')

Anyway, Richard had a story to tell about a couple of formerly-Protestant students of his. They had both grasped the fact that Biblically, and in terms of historic Christian understanding, the Catholic (not to mention, broadly, the Orthodox and the High-Church Protestant) position on the reality of Christ's presence in the Eucharist is the only defensible Christian position. Nonetheless, these two still have a problem with the Eucharist:

They really, really want to receive Holy Communion now. Not later—now! They’re tired of watching everybody else feast on the Lord while they have to settle for a mere blessing—and not even that if there’s a lay Eucharistic minister at the end of the Communion line.

Okay, that's nice. And it's great that they go to a parish where the 'lay Eucharistic ministers' (i.e., the extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion) don't hand out blessings (FYI, that's a liturgical abuse). But Richard goes on to explain his attempt to console these good people and altogether his attempt is pretty limp.

He starts by telling them that their having to wait is an old-fashioned, Jane-Austen-Pride-and-Prejudice 'romantic' kind of thing. - Okay, whatever; if that works for you, it works; if it doesn't, it doesn't. But the question remains: why must they wait? Richard claims that "it's vitally important for at least three reasons." Let's look at those.

First reason:

(1) It’s honest. As the bishops remind us, “Catholics believe that the celebration of the Eucharist is a sign of the reality of the oneness of faith, life, and worship.” Ordinarily, to admit non-Catholics to the Eucharist is tantamount to a lie—much like extramarital intimacy is a lie, even between the engaged, in that it bespeaks a total life commitment that is not yet present. It’s the same logic that ought to hold back obstinate sinners from the Eucharist as well, for Holy Communion is nothing to be trifled with—something St. Paul clearly spelled out to the Corinthians:

So then, whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord. Everyone ought to examine themselves before they eat of the bread and drink from the cup.

So it's honest, Richard claims, because "ordinarily, admitting non-Catholics to the Eucharist is tantamount to a lie." The problem with this claim is that a lot rides on the word 'ordinarily.' If we wanted to be really honest, we would need to mention why it is that, ordinarily, non-Catholics are not admitted to the Eucharist. Roughly, the reason, ordinarily, is that either there is some serious objective deficiency in their understanding of the Christian faith; or they have not been baptized. Since the people in question have been baptized and they appear to have a sound, well-formed faith, these ordinary reasons clearly don't apply to them; and similarly, there is no reason to assume that the other reason Richard mentions apply to them, namely, that they are "obstinate sinners" (which is not the most theologically precise way to put it, but whatever). As for the analogy with extramarital intimacy, Richard is implicitly relying on the claim here that because the two people in question haven't been duly confirmed, it follows that they are fundamentally lacking a "total life commitment" to Christ - which is surely an unjustified claim, and is suggestive of a serious misunderstanding of the sacrament of Confirmation. So, in all honesty, this first reason is really weak.

Second reason:

(2) It’s healing. Many Protestant groups practice open communion and invite everyone, regardless of church affiliation, to share in their Lord’s Supper rituals. This can lead to misunderstanding and resentment when people from those groups attend Mass and are asked to refrain. Yet there are real and painful divisions in the Body of Christ, and closed communion is a public acknowledgement of that sad fact. Awkward as it might be for us, it’s important to remember, as Cardinal O’Connor once noted, that “Holy Communion is not to be given or received as an act of courtesy.”

Instead, it’s better to think of closed communion itself as courtesy, for it both demonstrates respect for differences in belief and lays bare the wound of disunion to the required cure: Jesus himself. Here’s how the bishops put it:

We welcome our fellow Christians to this celebration of the Eucharist as our brothers and sisters. We pray that our common baptism and the action of the Holy Spirit in this Eucharist will draw us closer to one another and begin to dispel the sad divisions which separate us. We pray that these will lessen and finally disappear, in keeping with Christ’s prayer for us “that they may all be one” (Jn 17:21).

This argument is worse than the first. It a complete red herring. Everything he says is true. But it's all irrelevant. None of it implies that not allowing these two not-fully-initiated, but still baptized, believing Catholics to receive Communion is 'healing.' You might as well say that not allowing them to go to confession is 'healing.' How does that make any sense? And if denying communion to unconfirmed Catholic converts is 'healing,' then what is admitting unconfirmed (and very often unbelieving) Catholic children to communion? Words that come to mind are 'anomalous' and explanandum (as in 'in need of an explanation').

Third reason:

(3) It’s penitential. The time between coming to belief in the Eucharist and then finally receiving it at Easter is an extended fast of sorts, and a lot like Advent—another example of romantic expectation and longing. Though not penitential in the same degree as Lent, Advent is supposed to be a time of moderated deprivation—of staying hungry while awaiting the greatest birthday surprise the world has ever known. Christmas is a feast, after all, and we don’t want to spoil our appetites, spiritual or otherwise.

Our kids complain mightily about having to wait for Christmas—we did the same at their age—but we all know that the suspense is what makes it all so magical. It’s why we wrap presents and hide treats, and it’s also why we remove the baby Jesus from our nativity scenes until Christmas Eve: The visibly empty manger becomes a focal point of our eager longing for the Lord’s grand entrance into our lives and our world.

And that longing is deepened by the curious presence throughout Advent of all those other Nativity figurines: Mary and Joseph and the shepherds—even the cattle and sheep!—gazing placidly on the empty trough, a month-long Waiting for Godot that is spectacularly resolved when the ceramic child is enthroned on December 24.

That’s what it’s like to have to wait for Holy Communion—and not only for converts, but likewise for converting sinners, and children as well. It’s also the idea behind the one-hour fast we’re all supposed to observe before Communion. We become like pre-Christmas Nativity scenes, and our souls are empty cribs awaiting the arrival of our Eucharistic Lord. Our trust and our hope are deepened, our faith strengthened, and our love made more pervasive and profound. “All who are not receiving Holy Communion,” say the bishops, “are encouraged to express in their hearts a prayerful desire for unity with the Lord Jesus and with one another.” It’s a true maranatha moment—a true cry of the soul, “Come, Lord Jesus.”

To begin with the first three paragraphs here, if they were compelling, they wouldn't prove that it is right to deny the two people in question communion. It would show that frequent communion is perhaps a bad, 'anti-penitential' idea and that Catholics in general would benefit from denying themselves reception of Holy Communion for extended periods of time, perhaps only receiving it at Christmas and Easter and perhaps on a few other exceptional feasts. So maybe that's correct, but Richard needs to be consistent in the application of his principles, or drop this argument.

As for the fourth paragraph, the comparison to that oh-so-onerous "one-hour fast that we're all supposed to observe before Communion" is ridiculous and irrelevant. He's effectively telling his former students: "Guys/gals, I have to fast from regular food for one hour before receiving Communion, and it's super penitential for me and really strengthens my soul; so you should have to fast from the Eucharist for three (or five or eight or whatever) months, and it will be really penitential and a great spiritual discipline for you too - just like my one-hour fast. (I have to stop eating like fifteen minutes before mass begins - and it's tough, believe me! At least you don't have to make that sacrifice - because for another eight (or whatever) months you're not allowed to receive communion! - which, as I mentioned, I think is totally romantic.)" To which I suppose they might reply: "Are you serious???" - or something to that effect.

To conclude, then, if not admitting people like the two in question to communion is indeed vitally important, or even just important, or even justifiable or defensible, we need to find some better reasons than the ones Richard provides.