Tag Archives: Communion

Has anyone beside me wondered why almost everyone goes to Communion at mass, no one holding back because he or she has not gone first to confession?

Yes. The last two previous popes have done so:

As John Paul II and Benedict XVI lamented, there is scant evidence in our communities of any awareness of the distinction between worthy and unworthy communions—one of the most basic lessons children used to be taught in their catechism class.

The way we were:

Children in those primitive “pre-Vatican II days” were taught to practice virtue and avoid mortal sin because they should desire to be able to receive the Lord and be ever more perfectly united to Him, until they reached the glory of heaven where they would possess Him forever. They were taught that if one received the Lord in a state of mortal sin, one committed a further and a worse sin.

Can you imagine Pope Francis talking this way?

They were taught that making a good confession, with sorrow for sin and an intention to avoid it in future, was enough to put this bad situation right and restore them to God’s friendship. Who could seriously assert that most Catholics believe any of this today, or that they would even recognize, much less understand, the concepts?

Not I.

Interesting footnote:

[3] Msgr. [Robert Hugh] Benson wrote this about his Anglican days: “I was an official in a church that did not seem to know her own mind, even in matters directly connected with the salvation of the soul.… Might I, or might I not, tell my penitents that they are bound to confess their mortal sins before Communion? … The smallest Roman Catholic child knew precisely how to be reconciled to God, and to receive His grace…” (A City Set on a Hill). Does not this Anglican’s description of the problem in his own communion sound frightfully close to what may be found today in the Roman Catholic Church?

Yes.

6/20/2004. MUSCULAR CHRISTIANITY

At church today, a young man ahead of me in line for Communion shuffled up in expensive white sneakers, baggy white pants, and abbreviated tank top, the better to show off his extremely inflated muscles. It was muscle beach at the old parish.

 Earlier, there had been quite a handshaking of peace, with free-lancers going up and down the aisle to press flesh with any reluctant worshipers. Among them was the deacon, vigorously working the crowd as if running for office, which he should, since he’s such a nice guy, very personable.

 Father’s Day sermon had been by a tall, dark-haired, white-suited layman who talked about what Mary would have told Jesus after he was found in the Temple at age 12 instructing some white-hairs: Don’t get a big head, etc.

He got a hand when he finished, which is more than the pastor and his helpers get, but then he had done it more crisply, reading from his text, which is of course a good idea for the reverend fathers too, a good discipline.