This is old news by now, but it recently came to mind when it was mentioned in one of Judith Martin’s columns. I expect most people have read already about Sally Quinn, the atheist journalist who received Communion at Tim Russert’s funeral, “transubstantiation notwithstanding”, claiming that it would have made him “so thrilled” to see her do it. The incident created a bit of a stir at the time. Personally, I thought that the thing that reflected badly on Quinn was no so much her receiving Communion in the first place, as her refusal to apologize afterwards. Obviously the act itself was wrong, and on one level she did really know better; Judith Martin gives her credit for wanting to “show respect for the dead and his religion,” and I expect she did to some degree, but there was also a nastily patronizing side to it. For an atheist to receive Communion apparently seemed to her like making the deceased Russert some kind of concession, acknowledging that his religion wasn’t complete idiocy (though, of course, she still doesn’t believe in it.) Well, thanks, but no thanks. Please realize that receiving the Body of the Lord is a Catholic’s highest honor and privilege, not a favor that we do for the Church. Nobody should ever think of it as a concession, least of all to another human being.

Still, there was a sweet side Quinn’s original act, however misguided it may have been. She was grieving for her friend; she wanted to share in something that she knew was important to him. I’m inclined to believe her that she was not thinking in political terms when she decided to do it. I would definitely have believed her if, after it was pointed out to her that she had “honored” her friend by committing a sacrilege, she had responded with a proper apology. “I was very upset,” she might have said. “I knew it was against the rules, but I wanted to feel close to him by sharing in something he had loved. It felt right to me at the time. I see now, however, that I shouldn’t have done it. It was disrespectful to the Catholic church to disregard her instructions concerning Communion, and I apologize to any Catholics I may have offended.”

That would have been adequate, I think. She doesn’t have to understand or acknowledge Catholic views on sacramental theology. She can’t be expected to realize the gravity of the sacrilege she had committed. But she ought at least to concede that she should have respected our customs concerning those things that we hold to be sacred. If the funeral in question had been Jewish, or Hindu, or Muslim, everyone would certainly have held her to that standard, but sadly, the Catholic church is such a favorite and familiar bad guy that the question of whether or not outsiders should respect our worship practices can actually rise to the level of a controversy. So Quinn apparently felt comfortable responding to criticisms from offended Catholics with indignant remarks about the value of ecumenism and how sad it is to see the Church wanting to turn pro-abortion politicians away from the Communion table. Sally, please. Stop digging. Would your deceased friend be “thrilled” to see you now, turning his funeral into an opportunity to criticize his faith?

It was an unhappy incident. Still, all of that notwithstanding, I was moderately interested in another aspect of the case: the fact that Sally Quinn wanted to receive Communion. Yes, it was a funeral, and yes, no doubt it partly just stemmed from a vague desire to feel “included” in whatever was going on there. Still, the woman obviously knew that this was a ritual of particular importance, and, knowing that, she particularly wanted to participate in it. Presumably she also participated in the responsorial psalm and the sharing of peace, possibly even in the act of contrition, all of which would have been a part of Russert’s religious life. But she knew that receiving the Blessed Sacrament was something very special. And she really wanted to do it.

Every human being is born with a longing for the sacred. Sometimes it gets buried pretty far, but I’m not sure it ever entirely vanishes, and it can come out at surprising times. I’m sometimes amazed, for example, at how touched non-religious people can be by promises to pray for them. Or how fascinated they are with sacramentals or holy water, or the rituals of exorcism. Some part of them, I think, insists that all such matters “have nothing to do with them” (even if they don’t entirely disbelieve.) Another part, probably less conscious than the first, feels uncomfortably that they don’t deserve to partake in any such goods. They’re not religious, maybe not even especially good, and they’ve never gone in for all that soul-saving stuff so they obviously can’t expect any special concessions or any particular attention from holy people (if such people really do exist.) And at the same time, they long for it. To taste the sacred. To be blessed and cleansed.

The worst possible way to cater to this need is by making it all “too easy.” Even if we could open the Communion table to everyone without sacrilege, it would be psychologically unhealthy to do so. The novelty and fascination would wear away in a matter of weeks if the Church started giving the Sacrament to everyone; as it is, the desire for Christ’s Body is one of the most powerful yearnings that brings people into the Church.

But perhaps in smaller ways it would be good to place reminders of the sacred more prominently in our lives? Wear scapulars. Have sacramentals and icons visibly displayed in your home. Put holy water inside your front door so you can bless yourself when you enter. If nothing else, this might sometimes make a good conversation starter. As unpopular as the Church may be for her positions on abortion, marriage, homosexuality and so forth, I think most people still associate Catholicism more than any other religion with matters of the sacred and the profane. Nobody ever goes to the Protestants to be exorcised, and when a movie or television plot calls for a scene in a “holy place”, a Catholic church or shrine almost always fills the bill. Perhaps we should try a bit harder to help awaken that hunger in people, and then to remind them where it can be satisfied.