This is a long post, it streches nearly 3000 words and is 5 pages single-spaced. But it's important and thanks in advance for sticking through to the end.

Father Rossman has been hosting an interesting debate over the last couple weeks about the declining belief in the Eucharist among Catholics. LINKS: 1, 2, 3, 4.

This is an important discussion for the Church in the 21st Century--and indeed, it's been an important discussion for the Church for millennia! And on the topic, it seems like everyone has an opinion--and no one is really interested in anyone else's opinion. But we all know that opinions are like... oh, nevermind. Here's my opinion-- and yes, it may stink like you-know-what...

It starts with a story. My lovely wife and I were in New York last week with a couple friends of ours. While there, I was able to attend Mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral, the most famous church in America. I can't say that I really recommend a Sunday evening Mass to anyone wanting a truly spiritual experience, it has a pretty, yet businesslike feel to the service. Partly because it's a tourist site as much as a cathedral, and partly for other reasons that are... ineffable. If you go, you'll understand.

However, it was at this Mass that I saw something that I've NEVER EVER seen in the uncountable numbers of Catholic Masses in my life. The pews are kind of subdivided and communion is not an orderly process. It kind of jumbles up at the front of the church and lines look kind of mismashed. At this particular Mass, there were two priests and two habited nuns distributing Holy Communion to the faithful. I ended up in a line for one of the sisters and though I usually try to exercise my Catholic right to receive Holy Communion from consecrated hands, sometimes you just gotta make due, you know? Anyway, there was a young woman at the front of the line with her hands outstretched in the ordinary fashion, and the nun holding her ciborium quietly shook her head and mouthed the words, "I'm sorry, no." I was about 6 or 8 people back in line and couldn't hear the conversation (which wasn't for my ears anyway), but watched as this woman engaged in a short, quiet and futile debate to receive Holy Communion at a Catholic Mass. The whole exchange probably didn't take more than 30 or 45 seconds, but to my unbelieving eyes, it seemed like this scene played on for 10 or 11 minutes! Just as crisply dressed security guard was walking up to move this woman along, she turned around, hung her head, and breezily disappeared up the jumbled lines of people going to Communion.

You know, you see a lot of things in New York that you don't see in beautiful Shawnee, Kansas--but this was something I'd never seen before in my life.

In the Catholic Church, there are some basic tenets that you have to have fulfilled before you can receive communion (as a linguistic note: Catholics do not "take" communion, they "receive" communion. Of course, in today's Church where Communion is passed out like NECCO wafers pressed into your hand where you essentially give yourself communion as you wander back to your pew, what's the difference? *sigh* ). Basically, the rules are that you've got to be a Catholic, properly disposed and in "a state of grace". A lengthier and fuller explaination is at FishEaters.

I don't know what this woman's story is--and it doesn't matter that I do or don't. That's between her, her confessor and the good Lord. But it's UNUSUALLY unusual to see anyone be denied Communion, largely because it presumes that the minister knows the state of a person's soul. Maybe there's some story there, like this nun knows the woman personally, maybe the woman already received communion and got back in line for another bite, maybe she asked for a couple hosts so she could pack a communion for Monday morning--I don't know.

But I worry for her nonetheless. I hope it's some simple thing like she asked if she could take one back to a person in a pew, but I suspect it's a different story. It's a bad deal to walk around with sin on your soul. A way bad deal. Of course, the harder that a person tries to keep their soul pure, the harder it is to do. I once read an interview with Pope John Paul II that said the Devil works hardest on holy people because they're a bigger prize. In my personal experience, I can say that when you try to create a well-formed conscience so you can be a good person, you become more aware of your shortcomings. I hope this woman gets it all straightened out. Pray for her.

*****

It's hard to have a discussion about 21st Century Catholicism without beginning with the phrase "Well, before Vatican II, the Church used to do it this way..." And as a matter of catechesis or rhetoric, I've really tried to avoid doing that. But here, the situation demands, so forgive me and indulge the conversation for a moment.

When people used to go up for Holy Communion, they'd form a line and walk up to the front of the church, right up to the Sanctuary steps. Sometimes this process would be more or less orderly; parents might go at different times if mom watched the young kids and dad would attend to them when mom went up, some people said a brief prayer before they got in line as a way of preparing and focusing for receiving Christ--but in any event, they walked up to the front. Then waiting their turn, they'd step up to the altar rail and kneel. A priest and an altar boy would come in front of them. The altar boy would hold a paten under their chin (a small gold plate with a stick-handle) to catch any fallen hosts or crumbs. The priest would step up to the communicant, raise a host above the ciborium, and make a small sign of the cross with the Blessed Sacrament to bless them while saying Corpus Dómini nostri Jesu Christi custódiat ánimam tuam in vitam æternam. Amen. Then the communicant would stick out their tongue, the priest would place the Host on the communicant's tongue and would step up to the next person in the line. The communicant would get up, make the sign of the cross on themselves, and return to their spot in the pews.

The first time I saw this take place was a bit of an accident. Back then, I was checking out different Catholic churches in the city, just seeing what they looked like. I wandered into Our Lady of Sorrows and found this group of Catholics that were going to Mass in much the same way that Catholics have been going to Mass since Pope St. Gregory the Great in the Seventh Century. It was kind of surreal and I was not really prepared for what I was seeing.

I was used to the Ordinary Mass, where people sit in a round room, stare at each other across the middle of the building, grey-haired men play guitars and no one but the out-of-key choir sings "Gather Us In". People meander up to whomever is doling out communion to whomever stands in front of them. I don't mean to sound like a spoilsport Traditionalist--I'm really not a fuddy duddy, I promise. But it's just so different!

After that first Latin Mass, I was quiet and confused. It was so foreign, so exotic. It was really otherworldly. Please don't mistake this for romanticizing the old Mass, I really did not like it much. I didn't get it and wasn't sure if I did the right thing by even going and staying at this Mass; I would not return to this Mass for a couple years.

In the Ordinary form of the Mass, there are many different EMs--a term that my whole life I thought meant Eucharistic Ministers until I learned the term was Extraordinary Ministers. More on that in some other post. The priest consecrates the bread and wine where it transubstantiates into the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. Then he hands out all these gold bowls and cups out to a team of parishioner volunteers who distribute the Hosts to the people who line up for Communion. In my regular parish, the EMs wear full length white robes, though in most parishes, they do not. They go to pre-designated positions around the church where people process up to them, they hold a host or the cup in front of the communicant and proclaim "The body (blood) of Christ". The communicant holds out their hands--typically flatly, left hand over right and answer "Amen" The term "amen" is a complicated word that could suggest a number of affirmative meanings, but in Catholic School, they teach you that it means "I believe", and that saying it means you agree and subscribe to the act. Many people give themselves the sign of the cross as they walk back to their pew.

This practice is probably familiar; it's what happens in most Catholic parishes in the United States.

*****

Here, I'd like to focus on a subtopic for a moment. I'd like to get into a shallow basilology (king study, loosely).

This is often lost on Americans, since we're naturally disinclined to consider Royalty; we like our Presidents to be human, open and naked (in a matter of speaking). But if you can set you mind to being a loyal subject of a king, it changes your whole point of view! If any subject had a chance to hold the body of a fallen king, they wouldn't hold that body like they hold a cupcake, they would hold it as if it were more precious than any other possession on Earth. If you saw your king sacrifice himself for the good of the kingdom, it wouldn't be something you'd watch as if you were watching a high school play, you'd probably watch with rapt sorrow and bittersweet awe! You'd scrutinize your every movement, replay your every thought over and over, trying to remember where you were when you beheld the king in your midst.

To hold the Body of Christ in your hands... the terms "fear and trembling" should come to mind!

*****

It's got to be nerve-racking for a priest to be assigned to a new parish. There's so many people to meet, so many people that want to meet him. He's got to learn all the parish committees, all the volunteers, employees, teachers. There's little rhythms of each parish, small customs that end up varying from parish to parish. And I bet every priest assigned to a new parish feels "under the microscope" while the people in the pews study their every move. I can't even imagine.

Someone once told me that you can judge how good a priest was going to be by watching how he cared for the particles of communion.

To explain: the hosts that most Catholics get at Mass are specially designed to be, essentially, crumb-less. Handling them at the altar, distributing them around the church, they really don't fracture or fall apart. But they are broken on purpose. The priest breaks apart a host when he offers the Mass that he consumes at the altar. If the priest or an EM is running low on hosts but there is still a line of people in front of him or her, they'll often break hosts into smaller parts to make them last longer. And when you get the dozens of hosts in a ciborium, they inevitably create a little dust in the bottom of the bowl.

Consider that these things are still the Body of Jesus Christ, if just small particle fragments. How does father handle it? Does he meticulously clean each of the ciboria, taking time to make sure each little particle is carefully consumed?

Altar cloths used to stretch all the way to the floor to make sure that any small fragment would be caught, an altar boy would hold that paten under your chin to make sure that any imperceptible fragment would be caught, the host would be placed directly on your tongue--ensuring that no malevolent things could happen to the Body of Christ, it'd come straight from the priest to the communicant. After communion, Father kept his right hand thumb always touching his index finger until Mass was over and he could properly clean his fingers. They were the fingers that held the Blessed Sacrament--the actual Body of Jesus Christ-- and if any fragment or particle were left on them, they needed to be handled with great reverence and sacred care! Father couldn't march out of mass in recessional for glad-handing in the vestibule until he had fully attended to any potential fragments on his hands, clothes, in the altar cloths or in the sacred vessels.

They held the King. You don't mess around with the King.

*****

Kneeling was not always a part of the Catholic liturgy. Some of the great old cathedrals and basilicas of Europe don't even have pews, much less kneelers. People would just stand in the back and watch Mass happen in front of them--sometimes even behind a "rood screen" that was a barrier between the priest and the people. Even today, Benedictine monks do not fully incorporate kneeling into their liturgies, their order is older than the practice of kneeling at Mass.

But kneeling has long been a part of Jewish and Christian prayer as a way of recognizing the power of the Lord. Even as far back as Moses and Aaron, people were kneeling before the Ark of the Covenant and in the presence of the Lord. Remember the movie Dogma? When God appeared on Earth, Bethany grabbed Jay and Silent Bob and forced them to kneel in the ground? Gentle Reader, if you ever have a chance to see God appear before you, I'd suggest you hit your knees pretty quickly. The very posture is a sign of humiliation, it's an ancient way to recognize that the King has dominion over you. This isn't time for asserting your "human dignity". Just a tip.

I've come to think of communion in much the same way. When Catholics go to Mass, they all do the "Catholic Calisthenics" (SitStandKneelStandSitStandKneelKneelKneelStandKneelStandSit, not necessarily in that order) at different parts of the Mass. In the Ordinary form of the Mass, the rule of thumb is that you stand during the Gospel, you stand or kneel during prayer, otherwise take a seat. But from the point of the Eucharistic Prayer on, the basic posture is KNEELING. Why? God's in the room, that's why. He's right there, on the altar, in the sanctuary, in the ciboria. And if you ever have a chance to see God appear before you, hit your knees pretty quickly.

When you receive communion, when you are given custody of the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, why is it so different? You will never be closer in your entire life than when His body is held before you. Gentle reader, hit your knees. You are before the King.

Sometimes after people receive Holy Communion, some Catholics saunter back to the pews and plop down in the seat and watch the other people march around the church for Communion. Boys scope out the cute girls. They look for people they know around the room. It's the "spectator" part of Mass. No one has ever told them about the knees thing--they may see some people in the room kneeling, but probably just consider them to be part of the "fuddy-duddy Traditionalist" contingent that's part of every Ordinary parish.

I'll chalk this up to ignorance rather than malevolence. People just don't know. They've never been told. Not enough other people do it anyway, millions of Catholics can't be wrong, right?

*****

I could go on and on. We could talk about how you would dress if you had an audience with the King; we could talk about how the EM's take the sacred vessels that held the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ into a back room and seem to just drop them off to be washed later; we could talk about the stories of the priest sitting down during communion and letting the EMs do the dirty work of distributing communion and clearing the altar; we could go on and on and on and on and on.

I don't want to be a complainer. Really, I don't.

But here's the thing: why have people lost their faith and belief in the Eucharist? I'd assert it's because they go to Mass and don't see anyone else taking it seriously. The whole thing is casual. The whole thing seems snack time rather than humanity taking part in the sacrifice at the altar. How could you blame people? There's no mystery, no sense of an ethereal presence. It's all so common. It's all so ordinary.

And in the Mass-- as in the rest of life-- familiarity breeds contempt.

People don't believe because they don't see anyone else acting on those beliefs. Sure, actions don't always speak to beliefs--but shouldn't they? Shouldn't your actions and your prayers lay testimony to what you believe? It's not a matter of showing everyone else at Church that you're a kneeling kind of Catholic. It's a matter of showing deference to the Lord, Christ the King, to whom we are all subject.

That's my opinion. Take it for what it's worth. Congratulations if you made it all the way through.

ADDENDUM: In fairness, I need to make this clarification. I don't kneel to receive communion when I go to the Ordinary "Novus Ordo" Mass. I don't want to make a scene or give someone a feeling like something is wrong (with them or me) at communion. I remember as a kid there was a guy in the parish who would kneel to receive the Blessed Sacrament. It was strange. I think it made people even more distant from the Tradition. These things can be done by baby steps.