Saturday, September 9, 2017

Instructing the Ignorant

When I lived in Philly I attended St. Vincent de Paul in Germantown, which had a rep in the city for being the social justice church. Older white people and gay and lesbian couples would come from the burbs to experience community and be welcomed and break bread together. Just a year or two out from my stint at the St. Martin de Porres Catholic Worker in Harrisburg, this was my scene--concern for and service to the poor, working for justice, etc etc.

I had maybe been Catholic for five years or so at this point. Having grown up occasionally attending the Divine Liturgy (in Ukrainian) with my dad, I knew what a traditional liturgy was--the incense, the chanting, the vestments, the reverence--but had no attraction to it whatsoever. In my youthful pride, it was all pharisaical pomp to me, off-putting with a misplaced focus on externals--the very things that the real Jesus came to preach against. I was like the Judas that protested the expensive jar of perfume Mary broke to anoint Jesus' feet and how many poor people could eat for the cost of such a waste.

It is only in looking back now fifteen years later that I recall the extent of the liturgical abuses that were ripe at St. Vincent's. The congregation would join the priest during the consecration, joining hands and encircling the altar. The host itself was not those stale boring wafers, but thick leavened loves of honey wheat bread hand baked by volunteers. We would pass the bread, the cup, amongst each other.  The sign of peace was the source and summit of the Mass, and it would go on for at least ten minutes, people getting out of their pews and welcoming welcoming welcoming everyone, no person left behind. I may have even witnessed a liturgical dance or two during my tenure there, an experience no one should ever be subjected to.

I'd like to say I didn't know any better as a new Catholic (and I really didn't) that this was a complete affront to how the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass should be offered. But there was no one to tell me otherwise that this was abuse--I was simply ignorant. The WELCOME mat that was rolled out each Sunday morning covered a multitude of liturgical sins. To abuse the liturgy is sacrilege at its finest.

I don't know when I stopped receiving Communion in the hand, and started receiving it on the tongue, but it wasn't that long ago. On the surface, it doesn't seem like that big a deal. But how we receive the Lord in the Eucharist is a manifestation of our spiritual orientation; when we receive sloppily, callously, thoughtlessly, unrepentant or living as a manifest sinner (same sex married; co-habitating/forncating; divorced and remarried without an annulment; mob boss; pro-abortion politician; etc), or simply because we don't want to be left alone in a pew "excluded" from anything, we eat and drink condemnation on ourselves (1 Cor 11:29).

The Eucharist is the source and summit of Christian life (CCC 1324). As such, there are guidelines for proper reception of the Sacrament. From Catholic Answers:


The Church sets out specific guidelines regarding how we should prepare ourselves to receive the Lord’s body and blood in Communion. To receive Communion worthily, you must be in a state of grace, have made a good confession since your last mortal sin, believe in transubstantiation, observe the Eucharistic fast, and, finally, not be under an ecclesiastical censure such as excommunication.

First, you must be in a state of grace. "Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord. Let a man examine himself, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup" (1 Cor. 11:27–28). This is an absolute requirement which can never be dispensed. To receive the Eucharist without sanctifying grace in your soul profanes the Eucharist in the most grievous manner.  
A mortal sin is any sin whose matter is grave and which has been committed willfully and with knowledge of its seriousness. Grave matter includes, but is not limited to, murder, receiving or participating in an abortion, homosexual acts, having sexual intercourse outside of marriage or in an invalid marriage, and deliberately engaging in impure thoughts (Matt. 5:28–29). Scripture contains lists of mortal sins (for example, 1 Cor. 6:9–10 and Gal. 5:19–21). For further information on what constitutes a mortal sin, see the Catechism of the Catholic Church. 
Out of habit and out of fear of what those around them will think if they do not receive Communion, some Catholics, in a state of mortal sin, choose to go forward and offend God rather than stay in the pew while others receive the Eucharist. The Church’s ancient teaching on this particular matter is expressed in the Didache, an early Christian document written around A.D. 70, which states: "Whosoever is holy [i.e., in a state of sanctifying grace], let him approach. Whosoever is not, let him repent" (Didache 10).  
Second, you must have been to confession since your last mortal sin. The Didache witnesses to this practice of the early Church. "But first make confession of your faults, so that your sacrifice may be a pure one" (Didache 14). 
The 1983 Code of Canon Law indicates that the same requirement applies today. "A person who is conscious of a grave sin is not to . . . receive the body of the Lord without prior sacramental confession unless a grave reason is present and there is no opportunity of confessing; in this case the person is to be mindful of the obligation to make an act of perfect contrition, including the intention of confessing as soon as possible" (CIC 916).  
The requirement for sacramental confession can be dispensed if four conditions are fulfilled: (1) there must be a grave reason to receive Communion (for example, danger of death), (2) it must be physically or morally impossible to go to confession first, (3) the person must already be in a state of grace through perfect contrition, and (4) he must resolve to go to confession as soon as possible.

Third, you must believe in the doctrine of transubstantiation. "For anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment upon himself" (1 Cor. 11:29). Transubstantiation means more than the Real Presence. According to transubstantiation, the bread and wine are actually transformed into the actual body, blood, soul, and divinity of Christ, with only the appearances of bread and wine remaining. This is why, at the Last Supper, Jesus held what appeared to be bread and wine, yet said: "This is my body. . . . This is my blood" (Mark 14:22-24, cf. Luke 22:14-20). If Christ were merely present along side bread and wine, he would have said "This contains my body. . . . This contains my blood," which he did not say.  
Fourth, you must observe the Eucharistic fast. Canon law states, "One who is to receive the most Holy Eucharist is to abstain from any food or drink, with the exception only of water and medicine, for at least the period of one hour before Holy Communion" (CIC 919 §1). Elderly people, those who are ill, and their caretakers are excused from the Eucharistic fast (CIC 191 §3). Priests and deacons may not dispense one obligated by the Eucharistic fast unless the bishop has expressly granted such power to them (cf. CIC 89).  
Finally, one must not be under an ecclesiastical censure. Canon law mandates, "Those who are excommunicated or interdicted after the imposition or declaration of the penalty and others who obstinately persist in manifest grave sin are not to be admitted to Holy Communion" (CIC 915). 
Provided they are in a state of grace and have met the above requirements, Catholics should receive the Eucharist frequently (cic 898).

Orthodoxy means right belief, and it is important. It is not stodgy or rigid to insist on it, for what is a hollowed-out religion devoid of right belief good for anyway? It is devoid of power, a mere worthless shell. It's worse than salt that has lost its saltiness, not even good for the dung heap (Mt 5:13). Better to be a pagan than a Christian that doesn't really believe in the Faith. Thomas A Kempis wrote about the miserableness of the religious person who is not devout, for he

"who is negligent and slothful has trouble upon trouble and suffers great anguish and pain on every side, for he lacks true inward comfort, and is prohibited to seek outward comfort" (71).

What strikes me the most looking back at my complicitness in attending a church with such ripe liturgical abuse is this: no one told me that what was going on was not right. I didn't know, because no one told me.

How many of our fellow Catholics are in the same boat today? How many do not believe that Jesus is truly present--body, blood, soul, and divinity--in the Eucharist? How many do not know they should not receive him just because everyone else is if they are not in a state of grace or have not confessed their sins or do not believe?

It is a hard but very necessary duty to live out the works of mercy; corporal yes, but also spiritual: Counsel the doubtful. Instruct the ignorant. Admonish the sinner. Comfort the sorrowful. Forgive injuries. Bear wrongs patiently. Pray for the living and the dead. If someone would have told me years ago of what I was a part of at St. Vincent's and given me an orthodox alternative, I may or may not have listened, but at least I wouldn't have been ignorant. And I could have gone to my grave having never witnessed a liturgical dance (O Happy Death).

It can seem an insurmountable task to bring so many into right belief. So start with one. If someone opens the door a crack, gently push it in to start a conversation. If you don't know what you believe, read the Catechism, cover to cover. Be respectful but firm and clear. When you know someone is putting their soul in danger, love and care enough to let them know and not let them off the hook due to your not wanting things to be awkward. When you encounter friends who are discouraged and unsure why they should keep on living, pull up a chair. When you meet your fellow Catholics who don't know what transubstantiation is, teach them. Mourn with those who mourn. Let go. Endure. And in all things, pray.

If we don't as believing Christians...who will?

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