Broken for you

By Sarah S. Howell

For the third year running, I spent my spring break at Christ in the Desert, a Benedictine monastery in New Mexico. The monks’ hospitality is unparalleled, the mesas of the high desert backdrop are breathtaking, and the peace and calm provided is a rare and precious treasure.

These monks are not afraid to use modern innovations within the reason and limits of the Benedictine Rule; their website makes that clear. On my first visit, a reality TV show was being filmed at the monastery. TLC’s The Monastery chronicled the lives of five men who spent 40 days living and working with the monks of Christ in the Desert. (See the show’s website here).

I traveled with five other college students and our leader for a week of prayer, contemplation, conversation, reading and hiking. On our last day, our leader asked what had been one of the most important moments for us, and I, a thoroughbred Protestant, immediately thought of the Mass.

When I participated in the liturgy of the Mass at Christ in the Desert, my senses were heightened by the spoken word, the incense and the bells. I felt as if I could almost reach out and touch the body of Christ, not just on the altar but in the gathering of people in that sanctuary. Yet when it came time to receive the elements, I was obliged to cross my arms over my chest and receive only a blessing by the priest. I wanted to laugh with joy at the beauty of the moment, and weep for the divisions that keep us apart at table.

No matter what the theological interpretation of Eucharist is, the communion table is (or should be) a central point of Christian worship and life together. In Torture and Eucharist, William Cavanaugh observes: “It was not uncommon. . . for the ancient church to connect failure to recognize Christ in the consecrated bread and wine with failure to treat others as brothers and sisters in Christ.”

The communion table is a place not only of communion with God but also of communion with each other. The future of the ecumenical movement will rely greatly on table manners, on where we recognize and honor Christ in the sacraments and how we recognize Christ in others.

Sarah Howell is a junior at Duke University.

Comments

[Matthew Phillips]

I am inclined to agree with Sarah; I read Jesus' message as one of overwhelming inclusiveness, and separation at the table doesn't seem to reflect that. A good friend once told me, though, that for he, as a Catholic priest, to offer communion to me, a Methodist, would be to lie before God about our unity, and I appreciate the challenge and integrity of his view. I am baffled by the puzzle that theological communion is so hard to talk about under the veil of our sacramental division and yet the latter, for good reasons, depends on the former for its healing.

[Nancy Fitzgerald]

I agree that it hurts when for all our "unity" we cannot approach the priest for "communion". How can we be united when we can't "commune"? My head understands the difficulties, the doctrine, the channels of communication. My heart feels the pain of separation when I sit at Eucharist with my RC sisters and cannot join in.

[Jason Byassee]

I've had the same experience Matthew has--visited a monastery with conservative Catholic friends, the monks wanted to serve me, my friends objected, so when I asked for a blessing the monks were disappointed and my friends pleased!
But then again, I was there when they served a Hindu monk communion, so it's a claim more about everyone being invited than it is about recognizing the body of Christ in a Protestant...

[Sarah S. Howell]

I would never argue that I ought to be allowed to take communion in a Catholic church--certainly I would hope that one day that might be a possibility, but it's not as if I feel miffed that I can't partake. Matthew, your comment about the point that communion between Protestants and Catholics would be a lie about a false unity is absolutely true. It's important to realize that the situation is not that we are divided because we don't commune; we don't commune because we are divided. The closed table is a symptom of a centuries-old brokenness, not the source of the division itself. It isn't as if all disagreements would automatically be solved if we would just take communion together. Then again, I do believe that the Eucharist taken seriously is transformative both for individuals and for communities, so maybe I'm wrong...

[SheRev]

I have been served by some Catholic priests, but not by others. I have to say, if I'm going to speak from the gut with honesty and not necessarily with my pastoral brain or heart, that I can get miffed at the whole situation. When I read in RC worship bulletins that the reason we can't commune is that we are not united I get offended. The childish, snotty part of me wants to stand up and yell, then if we aren't united right now, then you aren't whole either. I think that's what hurts me the most. If they are truly pained about the situation than they wouldn't feel whole without us, and maybe wouldn't even feel like the Eucharist could be celebrated until we were all together. Instead, they keep going. The image of a group of big kids leaving a few younger smaller kids straggling, struggling to keep us, but never really intending to include them comes to mind.

So, OK, that's probably a little harsher than I tend to voice usually, but it's sort of a hyperbole of what I really feel.

[Sarah S. Howell]

The intensity of the emotions surrounding this issue is evidence that it really does matter. However, I think one of the most dangerous things to do is to start using words like "us" and "them." The disunity and exclusion goes both ways.

[Mike]

It strikes me as deeply ironic and not just a little sad that Protestants from mainline denominations are so offended by the exclusivity of the Roman Catholic celebration of the Eucharist. It seems to me that this pouting is the result of the reality that they themselves worship in churches that place a high value on inclusivity, but that completely forget the edifying and sanctifying properties of the sacrament.
Members of Protestant churches find the Eucharist unintelligible without the crutch of open table theology, held back as they are by their own flawed ideas about the place and importance of Eucharist. Since being polite is the primary identifying quality of American Protestants, they don't get it when anyone expects anything of them, such as holiness or repentance, which explains the popularity of "eucharists" that are somewhat less than true to the understanding of the church throughout history. (Yes, I'm looking toward you over there at the U2charist)
The hard work of ecumenicism begins not just with regret at our brokenness, but with resolve, commitment and the true accord among all the members the body of Christ that comes by forging commonality among all Christians.

[Rick Brand]

I am much more disturbed by the exclusion by protestant groups of other protestants than I am of Catholic closing of the table to non-Catholic.

[Jason Byassee]

I wonder Mike if you think Benedict will speak to Protestants the same way you do when he meets with us at St. Michael's next week?
Sarah's comments here suggest you paint too broadly about "all Protestants." It'd be like me saying, "All Catholics speak without charity or kindness when they speak to Protestants" simply because some do.

[Mike]

Jason I'm under no illusions that Benedict is able to speak as cavalierly as I am. He is the Pope, and by God's grace I am not. However, I am certain that Sarah's experience of the depth and meaning of the Eucharist is not normative for the majority of Christians, Catholic, Protestant or otherwise.

I wonder if it might be helpful to explore how we can bring Christians that don't fit comfortably into either category to this discussion. I'm thinking in particular of churches that refer to themselves as "emerging" or even non-denominational megachurches. Surely their varied and different perspectives are valid, but missing, at least from this conversation?

[Jason Byassee]

I'd have thought Benedict's manor of speaking as universal pastor would be exemplary for others as well. Now you cynically turn to a much more tired mainline liberal protestant trope than inclusion--that of 'unheard voices.' My point to you previously was about rhetoric more than substance. If you want to disagree with those who hold this position on the eucharist, the way to do so is to show them their own presuppositions should yield different conclusions, not to mock their presuppositions before telling them what to think. The fact is not all Protestants are "liberal," and surely Catholics should rejoice that some are tentatively exploring teachings like the real presence. It's not sufficient on Catholic grounds, to be sure, but it's a start that ought not be sneered at.

[Clay Knick]

I've received in a RC wedding and at a funeral.

One place I've seen both
Protestants & Catholics
receive together is at
Walk to Emmaus events.