Happy feast of Corpus Christi! Mine was made very happy by this news from Rome, that the Holy Father celebrated the day with a Mass at which all the faithful were expected to kneel to receive Communion. Excellent! Nice to see that the Holy Father is soldiering ahead with his liturgical reforms, setting an example for the rest of the Church to see and consider. Several weeks ago we had the Mass in the Sistine Chapel ad orientem. Now this. All I can say is: may the Lord grant him long life! He is steering the Church in the right direction, and I only pray that he will have time to steer it a good way before claiming his eternal reward.
I need to beg a little help from our readers, however. I’m perhaps a bit unusual for an American Catholic in that I was catechized by the FSSP, and so was taught from the very beginning of my Catholic life to receive the Blessed Sacrament always kneeling and on the tongue. Of course I’ve been to plenty of Novus Masses, so I’ve seen lots of people receive in the hand, but I’m frankly mystified as to why anyone would think that a better way to do it. Naturally the people in the pews (me included) generally defer to whatever they are taught, and that’s presumably why most American Catholics receive that way. But what is the argument in favor of Communion in the hand? Everything seems to be against it.
Here are all the arguments I can think of in favor of receiving kneeling and on the tongue. If someone would explain to me the other position (even just hypothetically — you don’t have to actually agree with it) it might make me a better apologist.
In favor of receiving while kneeling at the Communion rail…
1. It is more reverent. The kneeling posture is more conducive to the feeling of awe and reverence that one hopes to have while receiving the Body of Christ.
2. It is more childlike and trusting. When the communicant opens his mouth and waits, it is clear that the Blessed Sacrament is being received as a gift, not taken like a sample from a tray. As lovers and parents both understand, there is something specially intimate, and also specially humbling, about being fed by another. Through His Body, Christ does feed us, in much the way a parent might feed a child. Reception on the tongue better emphasizes this.
3. It diminishes the chance of sacrilege. When a priest is inattentive, Communion in the hand sometimes opens chances for people to steal consecrated Hosts. It’s much harder to do that when the priest places the Host directly on each person’s tongue. Also, provided the altar server holds the paten correctly while Communion is distributed, there isn’t much chance of the Host being dropped on the floor. It’s not as easy to guard against that when all individual communicants are holding the Hosts themselves.
4. It is quicker. I’ve heard people claim the contrary, but I don’t believe it for a moment. When an altar rail is used, and provided the people understand what they’re supposed to do, it seems certain that a priest can distribute Communion much more quickly if all he has to do is go along the line of kneeling communicants, rather than waiting for each person in turn to step forward, receive, and then move out of the way.
5. It is much less stressful for the faithful. There’s nothing like coming to the front of the line to give a person that “spotlight on you” feeling, and it’s hard to fix your mind properly on the Sacrament when you’re worried about keeping the line running smoothly. I’ve heard new norm Catholics complain, in particular, about the difficulty of receiving with small children; they inevitably fret that they’re holding up the line while they adjust the baby to the other hip and try to make sure the toddler doesn’t run away. It’s also stressful for anyone who has difficulty walking. Communion rails make all this much easier. You have at least a good thirty to sixty seconds from the time your “space” opens up to the time the priest returns to it. So you have time to settle yourself in place, get small children under control if you need to, and fix your eyes on the altar for a few moments of silent prayer. After receiving, instead of bouncing out of your place in an instant, you may cross yourself, rise slowly, and move on back towards your pew. There’s no need for breakneck efficiency because the priest is moving on down the line in any case.
I do remember the Cornell chaplaincy arguing that this was not a compassionate way to receive because it was discriminatory against those who, due to some physical disability, cannot kneel. Obviously some special arrangement has to be made for them so that they can stand or sit to receive. But special arrangements already being made, quite often, for people with disabilities — for example, for people who cannot file through pews and walk down the center aisle to receive in the hand. Any good pastor will surely be prepared to be accommodating about such things. Any parish that would ridicule other members for their bad knees has much bigger problems than could possibly be fixed by allowing reception in the hand
Anyway, those are the top reasons in my mind for receiving the Blessed Sacrament on the tongue, and except for the ridiculous “discrimination against people with disabilities” argument, I can’t think of a single argument to the contrary. So what is the argument? I realize that I’m preaching to the choir here, but I just can’t understand it. Again, I do understand why people would feel shy about receiving on the tongue when they were taught to do it the other way. It does make you feel a bit vulnerable to do it that way… doubly so if you’re at a Novus Mass with an unknown priest who might possibly make a scene by refusing to give you Communion in that way. (For that reason, I almost never receive at Novus Masses unless I know enough about the priest to be confident this will not happen.) But of course, that feeling of shyness isn’t nearly so bad when it’s what you’ve been taught. And obviously there is a substantial contingent of people who don’t want it to be taught. So what gives? What are the downsides to receiving on the tongue?
St. Louis-Marie de Montfort,
Pope St. Pius X,
St. Joseph,
St. Ambrose of Milan,
St. Thomas Aquinas,
St. Francis (and St. Clare),
St. Catherine of Siena,
St. Alphonsus Ligouri,
St. John Chrysostom,
Giving a cursory look at some of the post conciliar documents from Vatican II it appears that the option of receiving Communion in the hand was allowed because it had been an option at some earlier period in the Church’s history. The documents always point out the venerable tradition of receiving on the tongue, and the danger of losing respect for the Sacrament if one always receives in the hand. The local bishops’ conferences also were involved in the implementation.
From my own study I have a feeling that the option of receiving in the hand also had to do with trying to recover the understanding of the Eucharist as a sharing in the heavenly banquet as well as the sacrifice of Calvary.
Just a little something to get the discussion underway…
I’ve heard the occasional rumor that people who attempted to kneel for communion at an OF mass which did not provide faculties for it (a prie-dieu, usually) were denied the Sacrament, but that seems to be fleeting and one of those traditionalist campfire tales, like the “clown mass.” I have never, ever heard of someone being spurned who attempted to receive on the tongue. I was raised in exclusive exposure to the reformed liturgy, and I remember during classes for my First Communion being taught about both ways of receiving (Sister trained us with Necco wafers. I used to love those. Haven’t had any in years). Communion on the tongue is a lot more common in the newer Mass than some realize, and it’s the only way I’ve ever received. Priests, I’ve observed, are fairly observant about the signs of approaching communicants. Usually they’ll glance quickly at your hands, and if you keep them folded, they’ll know what to do. I’ve never had so much as a dirty look when I approached, said “Amen” and opened my mouth. I don’t think you need fear being turned into a spectacle. I think, in fact, you should give priests a lot more credit than to assume what you do. The possibility is the remotest of remote possibilities.
As for communion in the hand, I think some go too far in their magisterial insistence that it is inherently sacrilegious and can only lead to a loss of faith in the Real Presence. I take that as an insult to the Church of the first several centuries, when this was the normal means of approaching the “Mysteries” and the practice was described quite reverentially. The two “proof texts” I most frequently encounter that reference it are St. Justin’s description of the Mass of his own day in his First Apology, and Cyril of Jerusalem’s admonition, “[M]ake of your left hand a throne for the right, since you are about to receive into it a King” (I’ve found the quote, but I don’t know its provenance–in context, he’s not actually advising reception in the hand, but simply assuming it as normative, and therefore describing the proper and reverential way of doing it).
I think the historical testimony is a pretty good apologia, and I don’t doubt that, for a great many Catholics aware of the choice between the two means, many feel much closer to the Sacrament when they receive in their hands. This, if I recall, was the caveat given when the Vatican gave the practice its approbation, that it should be introduced where it might encourage greater reverence. Now, clearly the situation over the last few decades might indicate otherwise, and perhaps a reevaluation of the practice is in order. But I think the sacramental revolution begun by Pius X in encouraging frequent reception has become so internalized by so many Catholics that any change in the current permissions would strike a great number of Catholics as tantamount to “They’re taking the Sacrament away from us!” Nothing would better confirm the suspicions already prevalent that Rome does not trust its own laity.
Maybe this isn’t, then, so much an apologia of the practice of communion in the hand as it is a defense of the generation or two of Catholics who, since the Council, have in good faith taken the Lord into their hands, in much the same way as the first Christians themselves did, and a defense of the priests from whom they receive. I understand the concerns about abuse of the practice, and I am to a degree sympathetic to them, which is why I’ve never communicated in any way but on the tongue and would encourage any one who asked me to do likewise. But I don’t believe that, because some have abused the practice and decided to “eat and drink to their own destruction,” the practice itself should be discarded.
If I could anticipate a response to what I’ve laid out, perhaps someone might object, “Yes, it’s clear that communion in the hand was practiced in the early church, but shouldn’t the eventual complete switch to reception on the tongue while kneeling suggest that, in its own time as in ours, it began to be an occasion of sacrilege and loss of faith, and the Church saw fit to correct this?” I concede this, which is why I suggested above the current practiced should carefully be reconsidered. But the reasons why the Church moved from one standard to another don’t seem to be so clear, and it appears to have been so long ago that no documentary evidence survives of the rationale, if there was one at all. But perhaps I’m not nearly as well-read here as I should be, and someone could stand to educate me.
Please keep in mind that reception of Communion in the hand is not bound to reception while standing, nor is Communion on the tongue bound to kneeling. At every Anglican service I’ve been to, the congregants have received Communion in the hand, kneeling at the altar rail (as well as the chalice). From St.Justin’s comments, we do not know if Christians received kneeling or standing in those days, but his choice of words (”throne”) would seem to suggest kneeling, as befitting royalty. In my opinion, and this does not seem to be the opinion of the Church, the passive reception of Communion while kneeling is every bit as important as reception on the tongue.
It seems to me that if St.Justin were alive today, he would feel more comfortable with reception on the tongue and kneeling, than in the hand and standing, since his theology of thrones and kings has much more in common with the theology of the Tridentine Mass than the Novus Ordo, even though the actual practices differ. This seems to be a good example of the error of archaelogism - adopting an ancient practice, simply because it’s older, while abandoning the principles behind it. Perhaps I’m just reading my own biases into a dead person, but I don’t think St.Justin would’ve defended Communion in the hand because of the baptismal priesthood of all believers, or the inherent dignity of humankind, or the spiritual maturity of modern Christians (the 3 most common reasons I hear for Communion in the hand, as well as EMHCs).
This is interesting, thank you. And it’s true that I discuss both kneeling and receiving on the tongue as if they had to be done together… just because in my mind they are both integral parts of how the Blessed Sacrament ought to be received. You’ll note that my “reasons” made reference to both. Of course I do see that it would be logically possible to have either without the other, so the reasons for each might be discussed separately. But do Catholics really talk about the “priesthood of all believers?” Shudder!
I mostly prefer to watch this discussion, but to Dustin I wanted to say: you may be right that it’s the combination of kneeling and receiving on the tongue that sets certain priests off, but under those circumstances people are sometimes denied Communion. It’s happened to two people who are personally close to me, each in totally different parts of the country, within the last five years. It’s not just a campfire story, nor, unfortunately, the “remotest of possibilities.” I still sometimes receive at Novus Masses, certainly if I know the priest and know that he’s all right, but also occasionally at Masses where I very much want to receive (for example, friends’ weddings) when it seems from his homily and the way he celebrates the Sacrament that the priest is a good sort and probably safe. But would I come forward to receive from an unknown priest at a Mass with a worship band, a heretical homily, altar girls and an army of Extraordinary Ministers? Not a chance. Of course, I try not to be in Masses like that any more than I can help. But I’m not coming forward at any Mass where I feel like my way of receiving the Sacrament will be interpreted as a protest. It’s impossible for me to receive in the right spirit when the environment feels that hostile, and the thought of getting into a quasi-argument with the priest right there at the altar, as has happened to people I know, is repugnant enough to keep me in my pew. It would be nice to be able to trust all priests to respond well to signs of reverence from the faithful, but unfortunately, you really can’t.
I think that many like to point to the supposed “ancient practices” of the time when there exists so scant evidence it is possible to claim many different things. This was the supposed foundation for many of the changes of the Second Vatican Council (of unhappy memory). Ignored is the ample and explicit support for the practices which were in place earlier in the 20th Century, and had been in large part since time immemorial. Also conspicuously missing are suggestions that we return to practices of the early church which cannot be associated with modern progressivist trends, like public penance and passing long portions of the year in rigorous fasting. When I am reading accounts of “the early church” from modern sources, I am generally left with the impression that it was a lot like some sort of 70’s style love-in.
Regarding the traditionalist “campfire tale” of being denied communion for kneeling, you should consider yourself blessed for not witnessing such things, but I assure you that they are a reality. A very dear friend of mine was personally (not a friend of a friend of a friend) denied communion for kneeling in St. Peter’s Basilica during the not so glorious reign of Benedict’s predecessor. After pressing the matter she was sent an apology, but has recently gotten the “disobedience” line from the Monsignor who is over the school where she teaches. My brother was repeatedly told that while the faithful of the parish would not be denied communion for their disobedience, he would not be permitted to receive kneeling while serving (it was a bad example since the Bishop had ordered the practice stopped). Another brother was at Christendom College (different diocese, different bishop) when the order came out from the Bishop that the communion rail was no longer to be used and that the faithful were to receive standing. After many sermons and other discourses offered by the diocesan priest who was acting as chaplain denouncing those who attempted to continue the practice as “disobedient”, many left for the Traditional Mass in D.C. on Sundays. It is, I assure you, no campfire tale.
In sum, the practice of the ancients is difficult to determine, and the attitude of the ancients is impossible to replicate, but in more recent times the elimination of kneeling and receiving on the tongue was used by protestants effectively to destroy faith in the Blessed Sacrament. Since this was adopted by the Catholic Church, faith in the Blessed Sacrament has plummeted. I don’t think that the majority of people who receive in the hand are looking for a “more intimate” experience, the majority don’t even believe that there is someone present with whom one can be intimate.
Dear Clara,
I do not exaggerate any of those reasons. Indeed, I hear often about the priesthood of all believers from Catholics. And mostly from priests too! A Sunday homily rarily goes by where I am not encouraged to embrace my baptismal priesthood. I can think of nothing else so consistently taught. This then justifies why Catholics ought to “feed themselves” at Communion time, and remain standing as a symbol of their baptismal dignity as priests. In their defense, they might quote a characteristically vague phrase from Lumen Gentium, P31: the laity “are in their own way made sharers in the priestly, prophetical, and kingly functions of Christ”.
To take another example, just a few weeks ago, I was discussing the priesthood with some fellow parishioners and a lady made the comment that all priests should be promoted to the rank of bishop, which would be more fitting the spiritual maturity of modern Christians. I think she even paraphrased St.Paul, saying that we used to need milk, but now we eat whole food. Oy vey, the mind reels. (I responded, after recovering my composure, “But what would become of their vow of obedience?”)
Reception on the tongue while kneeling is opposed by those who want no one else to show the reverence for the Real Presence that they themselves do not feel. Any other explanation offered is either irrelevant or disingenuous.
The only advantage I can think of with the new form is the opportunity to drink the Blood of Christ. I would miss that opportunity, although love every other one the Extraordinary Form gives.
Luke-
This is one of the principal misunderstandings in modern times about the nature of the Blessed Sacrament (at least among those who actually believe it to truly be Our Lord)- which I personally think is the result of the apologetics campaign for communion under both kinds. When you receive the consecrated host, you are in fact receiving the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus Christ, whole and entire. You are not “missing” anything in not drinking of the chalice.
I whole-heartedly agree with number five. It is my habit to receive at any Mass when I’m in a proper state to do so, but it’s a stressful exercise at the Novus Ordo. First, I have to carefully pick the row of pews I’m going to sit in so as to try to avoid ending up with an extraordinary minister of holy communion who might be skittish about having to put the Host on my tongue. When I go up to receive, I nod my head out of “reverence,” because I may be scolded by the priest if I dare to genuflect or bow. Then I receive on the tongue, without the safety of a communion plate, because the altar servers are too busy hanging around in the sanctuary looking bored to bother with protecting the Body of their God from desecration.
There’s too many variables. I fear one day the whole thing is going to fall apart.
I almost envy Dustin’s relaxed attitude toward receiving on the tongue during a Novus Ordo Mass. I always felt terribly awkward while receiving on the tongue in my former parish since I was one of maybe ten people in the whole congregation who received this way, in a church that holds hundreds. That said, I have never received in the hand.
As far as receiving from the hand of a priest, at the above-mentioned parish the lone priest that would distribute the host (even though there were 3 priests in residence) would stand at the head of a different line every week so you never knew which line he would choose until it was time for communion (the other lines were headed by lay ministers). I smile when I think of my choleric mother unabashedly weaving her way through the pews to get to the line with the priest. We were actually lectured about this practice from the pulpit by a young priest who was admonishing people for not taking the Eucharist seriously enough - his examples were gum chewing and the wearing of t-shirts emblazoned with rock and roll bands. But he saved his strongest wrath for what he called the “line-switchers” - those tenacious few, who like my mother, would avoid the lay ministers and make their way to a priest, come hell or high water. The irony need not be pointed out.
I confess to be being more feint of heart than my mother, and as a result of guessing wrong (well, he was in the center isle last week, maybe he’ll be on the right this week) was often stuck receiving from the nice lady in the pink sweatsuit with the ear-to-ear grin. I now attend the TLM every week and receive the Holy Eucharist at the communion rail on my knees in supplication, with my hands folded, shoulder to shoulder with my kids, our faces tilted up to the heavens. And there is no downside.
Thanks, Zyphane and Meg, for those comments. I sympathize. It’s nigh impossible to predict, even if one constantly attends the same parish (and there are only two I attend, depending on the time Mass is offered) the aisle in which the celebrant will be distributing. On occasion, I’ve had to do some line-switching of my own. On no occasion, however, have I ever considered receiving from the hands of a layperson. Although I don’t see what’s wrong with receiving from the hands of an ordained deacon, I’ve never done so (certain habits have been ingrained deeply in me by my mother, grandmother and great-grandmother, God rest the latter).
To those of you who have no weekly recourse but to the normative Mass, I wouldn’t worry about feeling self-conscious in those situations. I’ve felt the same way sometimes, but I’ve never let it prevent me from approaching the altar. Those feelings are certainly natural, but I try not to worry about what other people think and simply do what the Lord asks of me. I wish, Meg, I had the opportunities that you have, but there’s nothing within ninety miles of me available on a weekly basis like what you’ve described.
It’s extraordinarily unfortunate that the priests mentioned in the above posts have chosen to be so scornful of the traditional methods of reception as they’ve been, whether standing or kneeling. Everyone thusly spurned has every right to lodge a formal complaint through the appropriate channels.
I thought I should also respond to Clavem Abyssi. You seem to have confused the two references, and I’d ask you to please distinguish the one from the other. The only one I directly quoted was St. Cyril, whereas I only alluded to St. Justin, whose description of the
Hello. I have never commented here before, but saw a topic which I might be able to add something to.
I don’t have the time to read all the comments (although, when I have homework to do, I will probably slack off and read through them all), so what I am about to say may already have been brought up — if so, I apologize.
Anyway, a friend of mine, a Catholic born and raised in India to a Catholic family, always receives in the hand. I, personally, dislike the practice as irreverent (it was one of the factors that led to my attending the ancient liturgies exclusively), and did not understand why he did it. Upon asking him, however, he argued that, in a certain way, receiving in the hand is a greater fulfillment, a “fuller sign,” if you will, of Christ’s quotation “TAKE and eat.” Not merely “receive and eat,” but “TAKE and eat.” I thought that was interesting.
I don’t think it’s a particularly persuasive argument, but there it is.
A correction to my screwy post above:
“The only one I directly quoted was St. Cyril, whereas I only alluded to St. Justin.”
(I meant to go on, but clicked “submit” too soon. So just consider it ended there.)
Dustin: I hope you have more options open to you very soon. Perhaps some of the people who read this blog know of a TLM you may have missed, or of one starting up soon.
Tom: Sounds like a good debate if this guy receives on his knees - otherwise, no contest! :)
Catholics must decide if they believe in the True Presence or not. If they do, then it follows that they would want to receive the Holy Eucharist in the most reverent way possible. I don’t think it could be argued that standing on line administering the host to oneself isn’t a more casual way to receive than receiving on the tongue from a priests consecrated hands while kneeling. We behave casually when we go to the park or a ballgame. We chat and wear jeans and sneakers and listen to pop music on our ipods. Our minds can wander as they wish. Bringing this casual attitude with us into Mass - wearing casual clothes, chatting with our neighbor, daydreaming rather than focusing on our Lord, receiving in a more casual way, replacing hymns with modern music - is merely a reflection of the world outside, and in fact, makes it all the more important that we cling to the most reverent ways when we are at Mass, our haven AWAY from the outside world (arguably the only place left!). When you treat something in a casual manner it follows that you start to see it in a more casual light. These attitudes have eroded the deeper feelings of love and tenderness and commitment Catholics have always had toward our Lord. Does he not deserve more formality and reverence than the present situation provides him?
We can’t let every new decade, with it’s proposterous “new” ideas and the human failings of the moment, seep into the Mass - that would clearly be lunacy. Do we not look upon many of the fruits of the 70’s with at least humor if not disdain - disco, decor, the sexual “revolution”, to name a few? Then why would decisions made about changes in the Mass back then not be looked at with as cold an eye?
The first time I attended the Extraordinary form of the Mass (unfortunately for me, I was already in my 30’s), what struck me was that it felt at once ancient and timeless and eternal. You enter the church and are removed from the world. You are there to witness an act of worship, a consecration. Every element of the Mass is designed to enhance that experience, with nothing to distract us or remind us of the outside world. The comfort of knowing this is how it always was and always will be cannot be described in words.