Communion and Politics as Liturgical Correctness

Recently, the Catholic blogosphere got the news that Cdl. Robert Sarah, the prefect of the Congregation for Divine Worship, had delivered himself of a strong condemnation of receiving communion in the hand. In the foreword of a new book by Fr. Frederico Bortoli concerning distribution in the hand, according to Pray Tell, Cdl. Sarah wrote:

... [W]e can understand how the most insidious diabolical attack consists in trying to extinguish faith in the Eucharist, sowing errors and favoring an unsuitable manner of receiving it. Truly the war between Michael and his Angels on one side, and Lucifer on the other, continues in the heart of the faithful: Satan’s target is the Sacrifice of the Mass and the Real Presence of Jesus in the consecrated host.

Why do we insist on communicating standing in the hand? Why this attitude of lack of submission to the signs of God?

[Receiving kneeling and on the tongue] is much more suited to the sacrament itself. I hope there can be a rediscovery and promotion of the beauty and pastoral value of this manner. In my opinion and judgment, this is an important question on which the church today must reflect. This is a further act of adoration and love that each of us can offer to Jesus Christ.

Now, I was born while Vatican II was still in session and have no memory of a traditional Latin Mass. My First Communion, however, was with kneelers surrounding the sanctuary and reception of one kind on the tongue. Not until at least two years after the founding pastor left did we begin receiving in the hand; not until the mid-1980s, after I began my slide into C-and-E Catholicism, did our pastor introduce communion under both species.

Today, my weight and, as a consequence, my knees make kneeling for the Eucharist impractical at best. However, I have no objection to receiving on the tongue, though I can certainly understand why a bishop should wish to restrict it when a virus is spreading. I think there is a good argument for preferring it; Fr. Dwight Longenecker discusses the matter with charity in his personal blog.

There is a better argument to be made, though, for not presuming the bad faith of Catholics who do other than you choose.

It should be no secret that many if not most of our liturgical battles are related inextricably to the political and cultural wars outside the Catholic Church in America. Communion ought to imply that we are, in Tertullian’s words, “a body knit together as such by a common religious profession, by unity of discipline, and by the bond of a common hope” (The Apology 39). We owe Christ an allegiance prior to our country and the Church an allegiance prior to any party. However, the 1960s radicalization of the Church created a division among us that echoes the political divide.

Political ideologies, whether they lean left or right, act much like the “pods” in the movie Invasion of the Body Snatchers: They slowly strangle authentic religiosity, replacing it with a substitute that imperfectly mimics the accidents while hiding an alien essence. Under the influence of ideology, slowly we find ourselves shaping our beliefs and practices to suit our politics rather than the other way around.

Ideologies depend for their strength on a number of myths which not only inform the ideologue’s worldview but shape policy preferences. Often, the “truths” on which these myths rely are factoids, slanted history, or unsubstantiated dogmatic assertions (for example, “Science has proven thus”).  All too often, the myths contradict and undermine points of faith. Given enough time, one either gives up their ideology or one gives up their religion. In recent years, for many reasons, the loser more and more has been religion.

No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth. (Matthew 6:24; cf. Luke 16:13)

Worse: You’ve undoubtedly noticed that, over the last couple of decades, the discourse in the public square has become more dogmatic (in the bad sense) and more intolerant of the slightest opposition. It’s called black-and-white thinking, or splitting: “If you’re not 100% with us, you’re against us.”

Again, there are many reasons for this; to explain them all would be a book-length project. But it would be neither true nor fair to attribute all the virulence to one side or the other. Nor is it true of everyone; rather, the polarization of the extremes has been driving more people toward the middle, to abandon party affiliation even as they abandon religious affiliation.

Nevertheless, the battles over the liturgy are only on their surface about proper worship. On a different level, they’re about who has control over the future of the Church in America and what ideology they represent. Whether the ideologues mean well is hardly the issue; I’d be more than happy to grant their good intentions. But good intentions and inspiration by the Holy Spirit are not one and the same. Ideology poisons religion.

Would I like to see more traditional practices in my parish? Sure, though I believe a lot would have to change before going back to only Latin Masses would even begin to be a good idea. More to the point, though, I would like to see more real unity in the Catholic community, rather than the awkward and artificial unity of holding hands with people I don’t even know during the Our Father. I would like us to remember that, at the end of the day, our mandate is not to take political control of all nations, but rather to make disciples of them (Matthew 28:19-20).

Most of all, I would like us to remember that, whether we communicate by hand or by tongue, we receive the fullness of Christ — Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity. That fullness should recall to our minds our duty to love one another as Christ loves us (John 13:34-35). This love, in turn, should not allow us to second-guess the state of each other’s souls or the reality of each other’s Catholicism.