Author: Revd Fr Christopher Smith

The recent decision by the dioceses of Phoenix and Madison to bring the practice of Holy Communion under both species into greater conformity with the directives of the 2002 General Instruction of the Roman Missal in the light of the 2004 document Redemptionis sacramentum on the eve of the advent of the corrected English translation of the Roman Missal has occasioned no lack of blogospheric ink spilling. The controversy has highlighted the development of two schools of liturgical thought. The first welcomes such initiatives as an example of a hermeneutic of continuity which emphasizes the reading of the Ordinary Form liturgy in the light of the text and practices of the Extraordinary Form. The second questions the prudence of such initiatives as evidence of an intention to betray the reforming instinct of the Second Vatican Council. The two developing schools propose very different solutions for the problem of unbelief and the decline of Catholic practice, both with reference to the liturgy. While some of their proposals overlap (such as an insistence on the liturgy as source and summit of Christian life, for example), some of them are directly opposed to one another.

Many proponents of both schools are sincere in their contention that their school represents the way forward for the Church, and are also equally frank in challenging each other’s projects. What is very clear is that many identify their Catholicism with the solutions they propose, and somehow see the Catholicism of their opponents as somehow lacking.

Are the current liturgical debates just another manifestation of an underlying creative dynamic which undergirds apparent disunity? Are they not unlike the various theological schools of the Middle Ages which fiercely debated theological topics while nonetheless adhering to the same doctrine? Or are they evidence of two entirely different religions, one of which has nothing to do with the other, which inhabit the same “space” called the Catholic Church? Are they not proof of a profound disunity within the heart of the Church?

The frank dialogue over these questions continues. But is the way this dialogue carried out a threat to the unity of the Church? Are the conclusions reached by those who participate in this dialogue, whether it be at a parish supper or in the hall of a synod of bishops, a threat to the unity of the Church? I think that we must be very careful in attempting to discover the answer to that question. In one sense, the authority of the Church as guided by the Holy Spirit provides the essential answer to these and so many other questions. But, it is also important that the authority of the Church be used to preserve unity among her children, which is why it is important that the shepherds of the Church be able to communicate in an intellectually and pastorally convincing way the truths which we hold in the bonds of communion with each other.

In this essay, I would like to explore the effect of liturgical options on the unity of Christians. These thoughts are mine alone, and I offer them, for what they are worth, for engagement by those who read them. As I do not claim the charism of infallibility, I do not pretend they are anything other than my opinion.

Many people argue that, around the Council of Trent, the Catholic Church had to find ways to make her unity manifest in the face of the threat to unity posed by the Protestant Revolution. The organic way in which the Sacred Liturgy has grown up all over Europe was corralled by a singular act of Pope St Pius V, who in his famous bull Quo primum in 1570 extended the Missal as used by the Roman Curia to the entire Western Church. The adoption of this Roman liturgy was welcomed in most places, as it was seen as one way to ensure the unity of the Church.

Now, as we know, local uses and some other rites did continue, but the imposition of the Roman Missal on the entire Latin Church was a huge success, if seen from the point of view that it stamped upon the Catholic consciousness a visible manifestation of the Church’s unity in so many places.

Four hundred years later, it was seen fit to introduce a bit more flexibility into the Church’s worship, ostensibly in the face of a different situation for believers than that which obtained in the sixteenth century. This was accomplished by the introduction of a new Missal by Pope Paul VI in 1969. One of the salient figures of this new Missal, as well as the many liturgical documents which were issued by the Church after it, was options.

Up until this new Missal, the Church had been profoundly shaped by what was in many ways a uniform identity related to the way in which the Mass was celebrated. There were always some options, even then: low Mass or high Mass, chant or polyphonic propers, and so on. But in the way the faithful perceived the Mass, they could go anywhere in the world and experience the same Mass. They all heard the same texts on any given Sunday in Latin. They all, if they came to Holy Communion, received under one species, kneeling, and on the tongue. They all were expected to abstain from meat on Fridays and marry in the Church. The identity of Catholics was shaped by the liturgy.

During the Liturgical Reform, options were allowed, not only in the texts of the Mass, but also in the way that Catholics received Holy Communion. Even today, in any one parish, there are those who do not receive Communion at all, who come up for a blessing, who receive under one species, who receive from the chalice, in the hand or on the tongue, kneeling or standing, bowing or genuflecting or doing nothing as a reverence before or after receiving. In most cases, liturgical law has given these options, not to the celebrant, but to the recipient. And where the options are available, the faithful have availed themselves of these options in different ways.

At the same time, many Catholics have begun to identify themselves and their Catholicism with these practices. “I’m the kind of Catholic who kneels at a Communion rail and receives by intinction” or “I stand and receive in the hand because I am an adult and not a child” or any other combination. The practice of options on the part of the recipients of Holy Communion has brought about at the same time a polyvalent approach, not only to how Catholics receive Holy Communion, but how they view a whole host of other issues related to their Faith. And all of that goes on against the backdrop of a dizzying array of options allowed for by the liturgy and those just invented by celebrants and worshipping communities that were never allowed by the Missal.

Also at the same time, the Church’s documents have made it clear that the individual diocesan Bishop has the right to extend, limit or re-envision the discipline of the Church surrounding the liturgy, including the reception of Holy Communion. On the one hand, this wide latitude given to the diocesan Ordinary is a necessary corollary of a theological truth about the episcopacy. The Bishop is not a vicar of the Pope. He has ordinary jurisdiction in his diocese, and in the realm of what it is permitted to him by the liturgical books he implements in his diocese, makes prudential decisions about how liturgical discipline is to be maintained.

I think very few people engaged in discussion over matters liturgical in the Catholic Church deny the Bishop the right to do so. I think very few people deny the right to the Apostolic See to further arrange, implement and revise liturgical books and discipline. But there are many now who question the ways the Apostolic See and some Bishops are going about doing this.

So why is the authority of the Church not sufficient to settle these questions? I have thought a lot about this. It is easy to just charge the questioners with disobedience and accuse them of disloyalty to their Bishops and the Pope. But they are seeing what we are all seeing: from one diocese to the next, from one parish to the next, from one celebrant to the next, from one person to the next, the options for just about everything associated with the liturgy have multiplied exponentially. And people have begun to identify themselves, their Faith, and their relationship to the Church with the options they exercise, and in contradistinction to the options others exercise.

Yet, does any of this endanger the unity of Christians? After all, the Church existed before Trent without such rigid uniformity and people still lived, moved and had their being in a context where they identified themselves with the liturgy in a pluralistic liturgical environment.

Pope Benedict XVI is much decried (or celebrated) as a liturgical traditionalist and a restorationist. There are those who are convinced that he is intent on bringing the Church kicking and screaming back to a status quo ante Vatican II. But those who have spent much time reading his rich theological works on the liturgy and ecclesiology before his election as Sovereign Pontiff might suggest otherwise. It seems that Pope Benedict is acting entirely in consonance with the way as Ratzinger the theologian he elaborated the theology of the episcopate, the Petrine ministry and liturgy.

For Pope Benedict, the Church has a nature given to her by Christ, which is a communion of the baptized. The hierarchy has a place to play in that communion, particularly to safeguard the handing on of the deposit of faith and the unity among Christians. Everything in the Church’s life goes back to that standard. The Apostolic See, Bishops, pastors and the faithful each have a place in the discipline of the liturgy. That place is not arbitrary, but comes from the nature of the liturgy itself, as an encounter with the LORD.

Furthermore, Pope Benedict has observed that there is nothing intrinsic to liturgical pluralism per se which threatens the unity of Christians, as long as that liturgical pluralism is read against the backdrop of the handing on of the deposit of faith and unity among Christians. This explains why he has done some of the things he has done (such as Summorum pontificum). It also explains why he has not done other things (such as revoking indults for Communion in the hand). And in all of this, he has done so, not on account of his authority as Sovereign Pontiff, but by making clear the consequences of the nature of the liturgy as lived in the Church.

In the meantime, though, tension has begun to build among those Christians who belong to the two schools mentioned above. Catholics have begun to identify themselves with how they worship. From one point of view, this is natural and even desirable. Lex orandi, lex credendi, lex agendi. But the sheer omnipresence of options has also led to the autodivision of many believers into opposing camps based on them.

A solution for this phenomenon cannot be found in multiplying more options. Again, the issue may not be the options themselves, but in how the options are appropriated by the faithful in their relationship to the Church. A solution also cannot be had by the mere imposition of authority in an eccentric and individualistic way, because the subjects of that authority can always point to another diocese, parish or person at variance with the decision of the criticized authority.

Pope Benedict XVI has called for a Reform of the Reform. It seems that he will not impose it by his own authority alone. Even the question of what such a Reform would look like has not been asked or answered in any specific form. But it is clear that current liturgical praxis in the Church has to be seen insofar as it answers two questions: Does it hand on integrally the deposit of faith? Does it foster unity among Christians?

The activity of the hierarchy in communion with Theology and a healthy sensus fidelium can answer the first question, I think. The second question, however, is a bit more complex. Can the unity of Christians in the twenty-first century be best served by a continuing pluralism of options or must it be tutelaged by greater uniformity in liturgical practice?

I would offer the following observation. If Catholics identify so closely themselves, their faith, and their relationship with the Church with how they worship at Mass, then greater unity in the way they worship at Mass will produce a greater identification of Catholics, not only with their faith and the Church, but also with each other.

There are many Catholics out there who are concerned about the preservation of Catholic identity, of what makes us unique and different from others. Perhaps it is time to consolidate ways in which Catholics can identify with their faith, in such a way that it is not opposed to that legitimate engagement with the world which is part of the mission of evangelization. The mission of Peter, of the Papacy, is to encourage unity among Christians. Maybe today, when that unity is threatened by a weakness of specifically Catholic identity, that unity can be symbolized and produced by all Catholics of the Latin Rite receiving Holy Communion in the same way. (It might also be accomplished by fewer options in the liturgical books and the use of the Graduale Romanum at Mass.)

That of course, is purely the prerogative of the Apostolic See. But we can all start by spontaneously adopting the practice of the Holy Father in giving Holy Communion at his own Masses (or how the Mass is celebrated by him in Rome), and freely abandoning all of the options which are legitimately ours, all in the name of unity with Peter who is the guarantor of unity, under Christ. At the time of Trent, many people welcomed a greater liturgical uniformity because they saw the bigger picture of how it helped preserve unity among the faithful. They ceased to exercise the options that were theirs. Even before Trent, all over Europe, people looked to the practice of the Holy Father in Rome as somehow a model, even when there was nothing wrong with the how they celebrated Mass where they were. And they chose to follow Peter’s example, that of the local Church of Rome. Why can’t we do that now?

In any sacrament, we can identify four important elements. The first is the form by which words added to actions become the vehicle for grace. The second is the matter, which consists of the material object or action which, when united to the form, becomes the vehicle for grace. The third is the intention by which the minister of the sacrament intends to do what the Church does in celebrating the sacrament, the condition for its validity. The fourth is the signs which accompany the celebration of the sacrament. Form, matter and intention are all necessary for the sacrament to be valid. Some theologians argue that all three are revealed by Christ in their specific form and as such are necessary for validity. Others have held throughout the ages that Christ has revealed their matter, but the exact words which accompany the form can and have been modified by the Church. Validity then depends on matter, intention and form as proposed by the Church.

In any sacrament, we can also identify two other important elements by which we can better understand what the sacraments are: the signs of the sacrament, which include, in some cases the matter of the sacrament and in other, the explicative symbols which point to other aspects of the theological reality celebrated in the sacrament; and the reality of the sacrament, namely what the sacrament is and what it does specifically for the human person.

All of the sacraments give grace. They increase sanctifying, or habitual grace, by which we are united to Christ and become partakers in the divine mystery. They also have a special sacramental grace unique to each one. They also can be vehicles for those transient, or actual graces, such as when someone who sees the reception of a sacrament by another and is moved to conversion.

The sacraments are celebrated in the context of a liturgical rite accompanied by ceremonies which are rich in content and symbolism. In fact, the sacraments speak a many-layered language on many levels of various distinctions. The liturgical rites and ceremonies are created by the Church, and as such are subject to the disciplines laid out for them by the Apostolic See. This authority of the Apostolic See does not extend to the matter, form, intention, or reality of the sacraments. The Apostolic See cannot change those. But the Apostolic See can modify the liturgical rites and ceremonies, as well as the signs, when they are not part of the matter necessary for validity. The Apostolic See can also depute Episcopal conferences, individual Ordinaries or even Pastors to modify these in accord with the laws set down by the Church.

The signs by which the Church celebrates the sacraments are powerful, and it is certainly inadvisable to adopt a parsimonious or mimimalist attitude toward those signs. Those signs can also be the occasion for actual graces, those transient helps which inspire a life of grace and devotion. But those signs are not the reality, even as they point to the reality.

Let’s take an example. Jesus Christ instituted the Sacrament of Baptism for the remission of sins and the elevation of its recipient to friendship with God. The form of the sacrament is “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son and the of the Holy Spirit.” The matter of the sacrament is water, which signifies the washing away of sins by Christ’s grace. The intention necessary for the validity of the sacrament is that the person who baptizes intends to do what the Church does, namely unite the matter and form of Baptism administering it to someone who has not already been baptized. The reality of the sacrament is that it remits original and personal sin and incorporates its recipient into the Holy Trinity by the gift of sanctifying grace.

There are three levels of sign associated with the sacrament of Baptism. The first is the pouring of natural water, which is the matter of the sacrament, necessary for its validity. The second is the complex of explicative rites with the Church surrounds the Baptism to signify other elements of this mystery: the lighting of a candle, the clothing with the white garment, the anointing with oil. The first can never be omitted, without endangering the validity of the sacrament. The second can be omitted for reasons laid down by the liturgical books themselves. A third level of sign, however, is how the matter is conceived of in the celebration. For example, baptism can be celebrated by infusion, our directly pouring over the head, or submersion of the whole body into the water. Both fulfill the sign required by the nature of the sacrament for validity. The Church has also allowed for both, although in the West, the first rather than the second is common. It could be argued that the second is a more complete sign of how Baptism also causes one to be buried with Christ so as to rise with Him in grace. But it does not affect the reality of the sacrament. It does not increase sanctifying or sacramental grace. At the most, it could be said to increase actual grace insofar as someone could be moved by the sign towards the reality it signifies. The second and third levels of sign are under the authority of the Apostolic See to explain, modify, and legislate, the first is not.

With the Sacrament of the Eucharist, however, how the Church views this tripartite level of signs is a bit more complex. In the Eucharist, two things must be distinguished. The first is the sacrifice by which the sacrament is confected and the Paschal Mystery is re-presented in the here and now in the context of a liturgical celebration of the Church. The second is the communion by which the faithful share in the fruits of that sacrifice.

The Church has always maintained that, for the validity of the Sacrament of the Eucharist, the matter is bread and wine, the form are the words of the institution narrative as presented by the Church and taken from the Scriptures, the intention is to unite the matter and the form as the Church does, and the reality is the whole Christ present. The first aspect of sign is the bread and wine, which are also the matter. The second aspect of sign is the Mass itself, the complex of liturgical rites and ceremonies which accompany the liturgical celebration of the sacrifice and communion. The third aspect of sign, is how the bread and the wine, changed into the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Christ, are shared to the faithful.

The way in which the priest who confects the Eucharist in the sacrifice is different from the way the faithful share in the fruits of the sacrifice in communion. Because the Eucharist is not just an object but a liturgical action, the Paschal Mystery, re-presented in the Sacrifice of the Mass, requires that the Priest not only validly confect the sacrament, but he must also consume the sacrament.

In the post-Tridentine period, the validity of the confection of the sacrament (the union of the matter and form) was considered apart from the validity of the Mass considered as a sacrifice. The cycle by which bread wine were transformed into the Body and Blood of Christ was completed by the consumption by the priest of the transubstantiated elements. To incarnate the sign value of the one bread and the one cup, the priest consumed one entire host and the contents of one entire chalice. This was considered so necessary for the validity, not of the Communion given as the fruit of the sacrifice, but of the Mass, that another priest had to come in to “finish the sacrifice” if the priest happened to die or be taken ill between the consecration of the elements and his reception of them.

The enactment of this entire cycle, from consecration to consumption, was not considered necessary for the faithful. The priest had to complete this entire cycle for the validity of the sacrifice, of the Mass considered as the liturgical action accompanying the sacrifice. The faithful, on the other hand, did not participate in the sacrifice in the same way. They shared in the fruit of the sacrifice, the Holy Communion.

Because the priest stands in persona Christi capitis during the Mass, his actions must be entirely in conformity with the form, matter, intention, reality, and signs on all three levels. When the LORD commanded His disciples, “Take and eat, take and drink,” at the Last Supper, the sign of eating and drinking, as united to the reality of the sacrifice and the sacrament the LORD was giving to His disciples, was considered necessary for the validity of the sacrifice as re-presented in the Mass.

Catholic doctrine teaches that the sacrifice of the Mass is inseparable from the priesthood which offers the sacrifice. So she has seen the Last Supper as in some way constituting the disciples as priests of a different order to perpetuate a sacrifice of a different kind from the order of the Mosaic priesthood and the sacrifices of the Law. The apostolic succession would guarantee the perpetuation of that one same sacrifice until the consummation of the world. The LORD Jesus would often in the Gospels put some of His disciples, the chosen Twelve, in the position of intercessors between Himself and His People. In the miracle of the loaves and fishes, for example, He performs the miracle, but He then asks the disciples to distribute the miraculously multiplied gifts from God. In this way Christ prepared the Church for the role of the priest to participate in the sacrificial actions of Christ in a unique way, and then distribute the fruits of those sacrificial actions to the faithful.

The faithful are not united to the sacrifice in the same way as the priest is. They do not pertain to the validity of the sacrifice at all. But they share in the fruits of the sacrifice. How they share in the fruits of the sacrifice does not have to take the same form as the way the priest does, dictated as the latter is by the direct command of the LORD in the context of the establishment, not only of the Sacrament of the Eucharist as sacrifice and communion, but also of a priesthood to perpetuate the sacrifice which would be different, not just in degree but kind from the priesthood of the faithful who share in, but do not confect the sacrifice.

As such, the signs which accompany the sharing in the fruits of the sacrifice by the faithful can be changed by the Apostolic See for a variety of motives. The mode for the distribution of the fruits of the sacrifice, of communion, has often changed throughout the centuries. The faithful have received from both leavened and unleavened bread; they have received the Precious Blood by drinking directly from a chalice, through a tube, or not at all. They have received the Sacred Host alone, having been dipped into the Precious Blood, or by a spoon dipped into the Precious Blood. The dizzying variety of the practices by which the faithful have received communion contrasts with the uniform way in which the priest completes the cycle of the sacrifice by his mode of reception of the elements in obedience to the LORD’s command.

It could be argued that, for the faithful to unite themselves as closely as possible in every way to the sacrifice, their communion should take the same form as the priest’s. But the very fact that the priest communicates himself while the faithful are given Holy Communion points to another truth. The priest communicates himself in virtue of his being in persona Christi capitis at that moment. The faithful are given the fruits of the sacrifice in Communion as a gift, as the Body of Christ, the Church receives all it has from Christ. This explains why the Priest gives Holy Communion as an ordinary minister, because he is Christ giving to His Body, the Church, the gift of Himself.

But no matter how the faithful receive Communion, the mode by which has often changed throughout the centuries, their participation in the Mass and indeed in the priesthood of Christ is different in kind, not just in degree, from that of the ministerial priest. The signs have value. They should never be interpreted without generosity. But the relationship of the signs to the sacrifice in the ministerial priesthood and the relationship of the signs to the communion which is the fruit of the sacrifice for the faithful are two different species of relationship. Either way, the way the signs are interpreted by the Church, or modified, or lived, does not in any way affect the reality of the sacrament. No fuller expression of the sign value will increase sanctifying grace, because it is not the sign, but the reality, which accomplishes that. The reception of Holy Communion under both kinds may have a fuller sign value, just as the submersion of the body in the saving water of Baptism may have a fuller sign value. But fuller sign value is not equivalent to the grace given, and not pointed to, by the reality.

I have writer’s block as I try to revise part of my doctoral dissertation. So to be inspired, I decided to take a little trip to the beautiful city of Granada in the south of Spain. This legendary city, made famous by the Muslims, was the last Muslim stronghold to yield to the Reconquista of Ferdinand and Isabel the Catholic. It was certainly amazing to kneel and pray before the tombs of the Reyes Catolicos, and I fondly remembered there Dr Warren Carroll, the founder of Christendom College, my dear alma mater. It was Dr Carroll who set many a young Catholic mind ablaze with the feats of Isabel the Catholic, and I am sure that she is interceding for him as he recently passed away.

During the late Middle Ages, the Western liturgy developed in such a way as to radically alter the way in which people received Holy Communion, compared with how they did so in the first millennium of Christianity. In many places Communion became less frequent, and the Sacrament of Holy Communion was often separated, not only conceptually but physically, from the Sacrifice of the Mass. As a theological development, it was certainly useful to make distinctions between Sacrifice and Sacrament. But often the Sacrifice was exalted to the detriment of the Sacrament. The mode in which Holy Communion was received gradually began to change. Communion in the hand had already long been replaced by Communion on the tongue. Communion standing was replaced by Communion kneeling. And the reception of the Precious Blood from the Chalice gradually disappeared. Eventually, these organic developments were recognized in local liturgical laws and customs.

At the Council of Trent, the Catholic Church felt the need to state clearly the Church’s understanding of the Sacrifice and Sacrament. That re-presentation of the Church’s teaching could not but raise questions about the practical ways in which Sacrament and Sacrifice were celebrated in the Church. One of the principal complaints of the Protestants was that the faithful had ceased to receive from the Chalice. At the Council of Trent, there was serious discussion as to whether the Council should restore the Chalice to the faithful. The fact that the Council discussed such an important issue is instructive. First of all, it signifies that, since it could be discussed at all, reception of the chalice by the faithful was not considered in itself against Catholic teaching on the Eucharist. Second of all, it was one of the first times that an ecumenical council would deliberate on a practical liturgical issue in such a way as its decision would be considering binding on the whole Church. The gradual spontaneous development of liturgical law and custom was held to be insufficient in the face of the Reformation to preserve the unity of Christians in conformity with Catholic doctrine.

The Council came to the decision that restoration of the chalice to the faithful would not be opportune at that time and would create confusion as to what Catholic teaching really was. In doing so, the Council created a precedent: ecumenical councils could decide on practical matters of the liturgy and bind the Church as to their decision. As Pope St Pius V implemented the Council of Trent, the extension of the Missal of the Roman Curia to the entire Western Church sought to ensure doctrinal unity through the unity of liturgical practice reflecting that unity.

As is well known, the theological developments of the twentieth century, together with the Liturgical Movement, built on the distinction between Sacrament and Sacrifice as elaborated in the Medieval and Baroque periods while contextualizing them in a way as to restore a greater unity to Sacrament and Sacrifice. When the Second Vatican Council came around, the gradual centralization of liturgical practice was such a given that it was not considered strange at all that an ecumenical council should debate how to integrate these theological developments into the liturgical life of the Church in a way which would be binding for the whole Church.

At Trent, the Fathers of the Council were afraid that restoring the Chalice to the faithful would give raise to a very bizarre notion of the Eucharist. The Reformers protested that the Mass was a memorial, a sacrifice of praise, and as such, the sacrament related to the sacrifice of praise was also memorial. While they often disagreed with each other as to the actual mode of presence of Christ in the Eucharistic species, they all held to the belief that the separate words commemorating what the LORD did at the Last Supper indicated that one received the Body and the Blood of Christ, but as a memorial (NB Catholic doctrine considers it a memorial as well, but much more). The Catholic Church countered with a more coherent metaphysical argument based on how she definitively interpreted the mode of Christ’s presence: if the bread and wine were changed into the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Christ, then the separate consecration of the elements, in obedience to the LORD’s command, did not detract from the underlying reality that one received, not just the Body or the Blood of Christ as a memorial, but the entire Christ, really, under either species.

At Vatican II, the Fathers of the Council perhaps took for granted that the teaching of the Council of Trent was so rooted in the faithful that the danger of a Protestantizing effect on them by the reception of the Chalice had passed. Catholics were sure that the careful metaphysical elaboration of Eucharistic doctrine at Trent had been received by the Church in such a way as to be rock solid. Therefore, a return to the Chalice would not endanger in any way orthodox faith in the Eucharist. On the contrary, it might actually increase Eucharistic fervor.

Of course, at the same time theological and liturgical developments were placing the doctrine of Trent in a richer biblical, ecclesial and historical context, there were also other currents going on in the Church. Two of those are important for our discussion here. First, there was much discussion on how to explain the mode of the presence of Christ in the Eucharist without reference to a metaphysical framework crafted almost entirely in Aristotelian categories. Many of those theories which were very much in vogue during the time of Vatican II are all but forgotten now, but they were enough of a possible threat to the balance of Catholic Eucharistic doctrine for Paul VI to re-propose the perennial teaching of the Church in the Credo of the People of God, Ecclesiam suam and Mysterium Eucharistiae. Second, there was much discussion on the history and objective constitution of the Sacrament of Orders, particularly as related to the newly found enthusiasm for the apostolate of the laity. Some of the more fanciful attempts at blurring the distinction between the ministerial priesthood of Orders and the common priesthood of Baptism had already been staved off by Vatican II’s insistence that the difference was an essential one, but thinkers continued to propose that the distinction should be blurrier than it actually was made out by Vatican II to be.

The evaluation of the entire post-conciliar Liturgical Reform, in general, and the restoration of the Chalice to the faithful, in particular, must be had holding these two historical trends in mind: doubt as to the exact mode of the Presence of Christ in the Eucharist and as to the distinction between the ministerial and the common priesthood. Even though the Magisterium was to clearly state the difference between the various modes of presence of Christ and between the two types of priesthood, there still continues to be in certain quarters of the Church a confusion about the distinction which is deliberately advanced by some who do not agree with the distinctions.

Into this mix there came the permission of Paul VI to depute certain lay faithful to be Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion. Just as with Communion under both species, the existence of laity distributing Holy Communion under certain conditions (for example, persecution) was not unknown. The documents the Magisterium has crafted that pertain to these Extraordinary Ministers have reiterated the teaching of the Church as to the nature of the distinction between ministerial and common priesthood and the modes of the presence of Christ in the Eucharist.

However, the widespread deliberate obfuscation of the clarity of the Church’s teaching on these points has continued even as the Church’s carefully worded laws as to the employment of Communion under both species and Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion have been ignored.

It must be said at the outset that Communion under both species and the Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion do not in themselves prejudice the perennial teaching of the Catholic Church on the Eucharist. But against the background of a confusion as to the modes of presence of Christ in the Eucharist and the distinction between ministerial and common priesthood, these two issues have created situations in certain places of a very real confusion as to the basic teaching of the Church on the sacraments.

Confusion as to the modes of the presence of Christ has resulted in a leveling of the distinction of the virtual presence of Christ in the assembly and the Scriptures, for example, and the real presence of Christ in the sacred species. The result is that for some, the Sacrifice of the Mass has taken on a distinctively more memorial tone, and as such is not qualitatively much different than the reading of Scripture or prayer among believers. The Sacrament of the Eucharist then becomes a memorial at which the important thing is the re-presentation of what Jesus did at the Last Supper on Maundy Thursday, and not the underlying metaphysical reality of the reception of the whole Christ under either species seen in a unity with the mysteries of Good Friday and Easter.

Confusion as to the distinction between the ministerial and common priesthood has resulted in a situation in which the distribution of Holy Communion is seen merely in functionalist terms on its own merits and not in the context of a richly symbolical grammar. Thus, practical concerns as to the efficiency of distributing the Sacrament, seen as effect of a memorial and not as fruit of the Sacrifice, take priority over any symbolic or hierarchical grammar by which the Sacrifice-Sacrament relation has always been understood by the Magisterium. Add to this the contemporary concern for political equality which abhors distinctions as prejudicial, and a language of rights, and thus some Extraordinary Ministers see themselves as having a right to exercise a ministry within the Church and some Faithful then see themselves has having a right to receive Communion, just as the priest does, under both species.

Again, let it be said from the outset that there are Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion and Communicants whose faith is entirely coherent with the teaching of the Magisterium. But there are also those whose faith is not. The fact that the Church has not commanded the habitual reception of Holy Communion under both species and the use of Extraordinary Ministers, but on the contrary has very specific laws as to when they can be employed, is consistently ignored in many parts. Yet it also must be noted that there are many places within the Church Universal where Communion under both species and Extraordinary Ministers continues to be rare if not non-existent.

The Bishop, who is responsible for making sure that the Liturgy of the Church in the his diocese is celebrated in conformity with the teaching of the Church and with liturgical and canon law, is ultimately responsible for making sure that the confusion over the modes of presence of Christ and between the ministerial and common priesthood does not distort the legitimate employment of Communion under both species and Extraordinary Ministers. Also, it certainly may be considered to not be odd for a Bishop to wish to bring the practice of his diocese in line, not only with Catholic teaching and canon law, but also the practice of the greater Church at large.

To my knowledge, in most countries around the world, Communion under both species and the use of Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion is rare indeed. Their use, in contrast, is not only common, but perhaps even exaggerated, in the English and German speaking world, precisely where the confusion over the modes of the presence of Christ and the distinction between ministerial and common priesthood is the greatest. While it is true that abuse does not take away use, it is understandable when a Bishop orders that the practice of a particular Church conform to what is the practice of the universal Church as well as to the theological, liturgical and canonical norms of the Magisterium.

All of this until now has been very theoretical. But why would a Bishop be tempted to govern his diocese in such a fashion as to end the practice of something which, even if it is rare universally, is accepted locally, and also allowable by the Church’s law? Perhaps it is useful to document some of the things that one often hears around Catholic parishes in the United States on Communion under both species and Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion. I have heard all of these things at one time or another.

1. When I don’t receive Holy Communion, I feel like I haven’t been to Mass.

2. When I don’t receive the Precious Blood, I feel like I have been cheated. I haven’t really received Holy Communion.

3. Why is there no more wine at Mass?

4. I just want to give Communion out at Mass. That way I can be involved in the Church and involved in the Mass.

5. I have a right to be a Eucharistic Minister in the Church.

6. You be Bread and I’ll be Wine. Host Station and Wine Stations.

7. Are there enough breads in the tabernacle?

8. Father, why didn’t you consecrate enough wine? We didn’t have enough wine at Mass and I wasn’t able to receive it.

9. I have a gluten intolerance, so I have to get the wine.

10. The decision to take away Eucharistic ministers and the wine is pre-Vatican II and is offensive to Protestants.

11. The only way women can participate in the Church on the Altar is as a Eucharistic Minister.

12. Just because I am divorced and remarried doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be a Eucharistic Minister.

13. I know my child doesn’t go to Mass and we’re Lutherans, but why can’t she be a Eucharistic Minister at the School Mass in her Catholic school? Isn’t that exclusive?

14. Father didn’t wake up in time for Mass, so we just did a Communion service.

15. I like Sister’s Mass better than Father’s. Well, it’s not a Mass, but you know what I mean.

I will not attempt to analyze each statement, but make some general observations germane to all of them. One of the most fascinating aspects of modern theology and the classical Liturgical Movement was to reunite Sacrifice and Sacrament where post-Tridentine theology has made them conceptually distinct. Yet the experience of the post-Vatican II Church has been a separation of them once again. Despite Pope Pius XII’s warning not to separate Altar from Tabernacle, that is precisely what has happened after the Council: Sacrament and Sacrifice lose any visual relationship with each other. For many people, the Mass has become a means to the end of producing Holy Communion. Yet the Mass, which is the perfect prayer of self-offering of Jesus to His Father in the Holy Spirit, has an infinite value of itself. Participation in the Mass as a Sacrifice is not made any more perfect by participation in the Mass as a Sacrament in Holy Communion. They are two different modes of participation, just as participation is both internal and external. They are ordered to each other, but one can be had without the other.

Another interesting observation to make is that there is a practical denial of the fact that sacramental communion presupposes ecclesial communion. One does not receive or distribute Communion by right, merely by the fact of being present at a celebration of the Mass in a Catholic Church. One receives Communion as a privilege, and only after being properly disposed. The proper disposition to receive Communion is indicated by Divine Revelation (discerning the Body and Blood of the LORD) and canon law. Furthermore, the reception of Communion is a protestation of faith and a public act of worship. As such, Communion is not the place for arbitrary and individualist deviations from the norms. Sacramental Communion must take place in the fullest harmony with ecclesial Communion. As such, it is a powerful antidote to the atomistic individualism of our times.

Also, the reduction of the Mass to its commemorative aspect or to its aspect as meal has some Catholics acting as if all they receive when they received the consecrated bread is the Body of Christ, as if that were somehow the flesh and bones of the LORD, and the consecrated wine is the Blood of Christ, as if that were somehow just the red liquid. Actually, this presents a gross misunderstanding of the Eucharistic species. It does not take into consideration the doctrine of concomitance by which the whole and entire Christ is received under either species. Because of the Resurrection of the LORD, since His Body and Blood are reunited with His Soul and Divinity, when the Catholic receives the Eucharist, he receives the Risen Christ. The distortion of this truth is particularly worrisome. First of all, it makes the Catholic doctrine on the Real Presence metaphysically incoherent. Second of all, it makes the Mass seem like nothing other than receiving two things separately as the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of the LORD were separated on Good Friday. Third of all, especially given the post-Vatican II emphasis on the Mass as Paschal Mystery, the reduction of the Mass to the commemoration of Holy Thursday seen against the backdrop of the separation of the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Christ on Good Friday, without a real frame of reference to the Risen Christ, is ironic. It also caters to the Protestant caricature of Catholic worship as entirely Good Friday centered and not Paschal in its understanding. It levels out the intimate connection between each moment of the Paschal Mystery as present in the Eucharistic species and celebration, and as such, is a betrayal of the advancement of Eucharistic and liturgical theology in the last century.

The referral to the Sacred Species solely by their accidents, namely bread and wine, after the Consecration, is so common as to be unnoteworthy. But it is also imprecise. Often when I have sought to correct someone who insists on calling the Species bread and wine after the Consecration, they will respond, “Well, Father, you know what I mean.” But is such an attitude towards the elements not closer to consubstantiation or some form of impanation, which is inconsistent with Eucharistic doctrine?

Finally, a reduction of the concept of participation to a merely external one in which everyone should be made to participate as much as possible with no reference to the teaching of the Church on the distinction between ministerial and common priesthood also emphasizes the Mass as a means to an end of receiving Communion and separates Sacrifice and Sacrament. It has been suggested in some quarters that, because the Eucharist is so important for the Christian life, that married men or women should be ordained to the priesthood or that the laity should be able to preside over the Eucharistic synaxis. Now, while it is possible for married men to be ordained to the priesthood, the Church has reiterated that she does not have the power to ordain women to the priesthood. The suggestion that the laity preside over the Eucharistic synaxis denies the essential link between Holy Orders and the Eucharist, and is the fruit of the blurring of the distinction between the ministerial and the common priesthood. The sacramental economy is divided against itself, where there is a profound unity of divine design. It also promotes a functionalist and utilitarian approach to the sacramental economy, where efficiency, political correctness and convenience are the prized categories, and not theological ones.

Now, none of the above fifteen statements was uttered by anyone who has any malice towards or bone to pick with the Church. The people I know who have said the above statements are frequent, even daily Mass-goers, who love their Church and are ready to make personal sacrifices for their faith. But, as we have seen, it is precisely the fact that these problematic statements are common on the lips of the faithful which leads us to question: Have we truly imparted to our people the fullness of the Church’s teaching on the Eucharist? Of course, the Church’s teaching is much richer than the few elements highlighted here. The Eucharist has profound implications not only for the spiritual life of the individual Christian, but for the entire world and social order.

As we have seen, the terrible confusion in the Church on the Eucharist is not directly the result of the permission, under certain circumstances laid out by canon law, for Communion under both species and Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion. But the theological confusion over the modes of the presence of Christ in the Eucharist and the distinction between the ministerial and ordained priesthood has been conveyed to the faithful in part through those vehicles. It is up to individual Bishops to discern whether it is prudent or not to go back to basics, and then assure that the use of Communion under both species and Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion is not distorted by questionable theology. And when the basics are clear, those two issues cease to have the monumental import with which they have been invested by those who use them as chess pieces in a strategy to reinterpret the Church’s teaching on the sacraments.

NB. By means of offering a resource of relatively recent theology which makes accessible the Church’s teaching on these matters, I recommend Abbot Vonier’s A Key to the Doctrine of the Eucharist.