Back when I had just come back to the regular practice of the Faith, I accompanied a friend to Mass at her local parish in Orange County, California. I’d been away for a long time — long enough that, when I used to take Communion as a child, it was on the tongue, on our knees, from a priest, period.
Granted, our small-town parish was rather behind on a lot of liturgical innovations (thank God, as it turned out).
Anyway, there I was, looking into the face of a lay woman offering me the Body of Christ, and my gut reaction was to be shocked. A lay person? A woman?
(Making it even better, the traffic pattern in this church with its converted circular seating meant you took Communion with your back to the altar — which I was pretty sure was a venial sin, if not a mortal one.)
Then, not long after that, at my own home parish in Los Angeles, I stood in front of another Eucharistic Minister — another woman, this time wearing a sparkly “I Love L.A.” baseball cap.
Not sure if that was the turning point, but pretty soon after that, I decided that I was going to be in the priest — or deacon, if there was one — line if at all possible. No more risking the chance of receiving the Eucharist from a guy in a Hawaiian shirt, a woman in a halter top, a guy in a t-shirt and shorts, or a woman in a strapless sundress (no, I’m not making these up).
These days, I also prefer to take Communion on the tongue, so sticking with the priest or deacon makes even more sense. Although, at some liberal L.A. parishes, the clergy visibly disdain such a practice.
And, of course, there are those who think that if you choose one thing over the other, you automatically think the other thing — or person — is bad and evil and awful and should be drummed out of polite society … and then there are mature adults who know that it’s simply a preference, not a judgment.
I’ve also heard one priest preach against getting in the priest line from the ambo. (I loved and respected him, but I still did it.)
It’s not that I think the Communion is any less valid from a lay minister or think any less of those who give it out or take it that way, it’s just my call. And yeah, I’ll hop lines if I absolutely have to, but I try to scope the Mass out ahead of time to avoid or minimize that. And if I have to walk all the way to the back of the church to get back to my pew, so be it.
But, if it’s going to cause a kerfuffle and disrupt Communion for others, I stay in my original line and take Communion in the hand.
Of course, when I go to Latin Mass, it’s not an issue. Communion always comes from a priest or deacon, and the only line is at the rail. Interestingly, it doesn’t seem to take any longer, even with a sizable congregation.
So I was amused to read this post today from the Biblical Evidence for Catholicism blog:
Nothing against eucharistic ministers themselves (really). All I’m saying is that there is excessive use, and that I receive from the priest because he is the alter Christus / in persona Christi in a way that the lay ministers are not.
That’s my entire argument in a nutshell. I discussed it with several priests: some agreed with me, one (very much) did not. But he’s an esteemed friend with a great, thriving parish, so we can agree to disagree. No biggie.
***
I prefer to receive from a priest (and no one has of yet told me why I should not have that opinion or not be able to exercise it). One priest friend of mine could only argue that I would be disrupting the Mass. But I take great pains to not do that, and if it causes a “scene” I don’t get in a different line.
Writer Dave Armstrong goes on to discuss all the ins and outs and pros and cons of priest-preference, and he’s given it a lot more thought than I have. It’s worth a read.
Click here to do that.
So, any other priest-preferrers out there?
Image: Wikimedia Commons
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