Denied

While I’ve been in New Zealand, I have attended Catholic Mass with my family here. I prayed that God would help me be present to the words and meaning even if I could not receive Holy Communion. As I heard the words of the Eucharistic Prayer, I whispered to myself the similar words I speak on behalf of the congregation when I am the one behind the altar. The juxtaposition of sitting in this church being denied the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ and being the one behind the altar in the Episcopal Church struck me and I was angry. God led me past the anger to tears for all who’ve been denied receiving God’s gift throughout the history of the Church.

In Matthew’s version of the Good News story, we are told, ‘While they were eating, Jesus took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.” Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you, for this is my blood, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins‘ (Matthew 26:26-28). From Luke’s version we get the words, ‘do this in remembrance of me’ (Luke 22:19).

And so I wonder how denying anyone access to God’s gifts is remembering Jesus. Jesus didn’t give rules to the disciples about who is worthy to receive his body and blood. Jesus didn’t deny either Judas or Peter, knowing each would betray him. And, yet, the Church finds ways to deny some.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I hold a deep reverence for Holy Communion. It isn’t something to receive casually or irreverently. At my ordination, in the examination and consecration of a priest, these words are prayed and proclaimed: “You are to preach, to declare God’s forgiveness to penitent sinners, to pronounce God’s blessing, to share in the administration of Holy Baptism and in the celebration of the mysteries of Christ’s Body and Blood.” I promise to: “endeavor so to minister the Word of God and the sacraments of the New Covenant, that the reconciling love of Christ may be known and received.” And the bishop prays that I will “rightly administer the sacraments of the New Covenant.”

I don’t take any of this lightly. But no where in my vows and the ordination proclamations made does it say that it is my role to determine who is worthy and who isn’t.

And, yes, I can see how some would say I’m doing a bit of ‘apples to oranges’ here, comparing my priesthood in the Episcopal Church to that of the Catholic Church, but if we understand that ‘catholic’ means ‘universal’ when we say ‘One holy, catholic, and apostolic church’ and if we really believe that there is One Body of Christ, then the Church is one.

On Ash Wednesday, I again went to Catholic Mass because I wanted to begin the season of Lent with the prayers and ashes that remind us all what it is to be human, to be who and Whose we are made to be. And, again, it struck me that I could receive ashes but not Holy Communion. The Catholic church is willing to let me participate in being reminded I am created by God to return to God but not willing to let me receive the body and blood of the one who’s life, death, and resurrection is for the redemption of all. In all of my ability to see all sides of an issue, I just can’t understand how any human being takes on the authority of denying others God’s gifts.

After the Ash Wednesday Mass, I had a lovely conversation with the priest. Without directly speaking of me not receiving communion, he spoke with me about ecumenical practices and of being welcoming and loving while staying within the rules. I felt as if he were trying to apologize without directly apologizing. He was trying to let me know I was seen and accepted as a priest in the Episcopal Church. It was a very human moment of connection in spite of the circumstances.

So perhaps this is just part of my Lenten journey. I don’t claim to know everything and I have no thought of being able to change thousands of years of catholic doctrine. But I can’t deny the sorrow it causes me and many others. I can and will with God’s help incorporate this lesson into my capacity for empathy and compassion and humility. I will take my initial reaction of anger and pray that God uses the fire of it to forge a softer heart and soul within me so that I can better offer the gift of God’s love to others.

Blessings on your Lenten journey, my friends.