The 1662 Book of Common Prayer, which remains the gold standard of Anglican worship, imagines a scenario before the celebration of Holy Communion or The Lord’s Supper, in which all those who intend to receive communion will let the parish priest know at least one day prior. This is partly practical, so that there can be enough bread and wine prepared. But it also has a pastoral element. The prologue for the Order for the Administration of the Lord’s Supper goes on to say that once the list of communicants is prepared
‘if any of those be an open and notorious evil liver, or have don any wrong to his Neighbours in word or Deed, so that the congregation is thereby offended: ye Curate having knowledge thereof, shall call him and advertise him, that in any wise he presume not to come to the Lords Table, until he have openly declared himselfe to have truly repented, and amended his former naughty life’
At this time in England, the celebration of Holy Communion was relatively rare. It might have happened in the average parish church once a month, or perhaps only on feast days, or perhaps only at Christmas and Easter. One can imagine a fair bit of repenting and amendment of naughty lives happening prior to those relatively rare occasions, though I’m not sure I’d want to be the vicar beavering around town letting open and notorious livers know that they can’t have communion!
In the Presbyterian Church of Scotland and the USA until the early nineteenth century, there was a practice called ‘Communion Tokens’. Before the (relatively rare) celebration of Holy Communion, members of the congregation would attend catechism class, or be visited by the elders (or both) to ensure that they were spiritually and morally ready to receive communion. Those who were in readiness were given a little lead token that they could present at the service to signify their readiness.
Even in the Roman Catholic tradition today, it is still expected that communicants go to auricular confession with a priest before receiving the sacrament. Although there is provision in certain circumstances for a ‘general confession’ said by the congregation, as we Anglicans do, the norm remains that sacramental confession is a necessary part of the preparation. This is why a fair number of Roman Catholics don’t receive communion at mass, even when they’re in attendance. They’re just not ready.
By contrast, the so-called ‘liturgical movement’ in Anglicanism and other traditions has seen the Eucharist restored to its place as the primary form of Sunday worship. Although there is provision for sacramental confession in Anglicanism, it is relatively rare. And although I could technically refuse communion to those ‘betwixt whom [I] perceiveth malice’, I’ve never actually done it.
During this time of home isolation during the pandemic, I’ve deliberately not been offering live streams or videos of Holy Communion, even though it would be relatively easy to do. There are half a dozen options to remotely view a Eucharist on our parish website if you would find that edifying, but I’ve deliberately eschewed that practice. While we may grieve our inability to celebrate the Eucharist together at this time, I think this might be also be a good time to reflect on a couple of things.
Firstly, to receive communion is not a right, it is a blessing. Blessings flow from God, and we believe that a particular blessing flows from the body and blood of Christ, as it enters into us and transforms us. But the Eucharist is not the only way that God blesses and not the only way that we can be in Christ and he in us. A period of time away from Holy Communion, a kind of ‘fast’ can open us up to see the presence of Christ in other ways and in other places.
Secondly, to be a Eucharistic community is not just to be a community that has lots of masses. The Eucharist is the visible expression of our Eucharistic identity, but the truly Eucharistic community is one that feasts, that feeds, that celebrates all that is good while acknowledging its own weaknesses and frailties. The truly Eucharistic community is united in prayer and fellowship at all times, not just when the formal liturgy is taking place.
So during this time of isolation, we can look for the presence of Christ wherever we find ourselves, and we can be a Eucharistic community even when we are not able to be in the same room to receive the sacrament.
The story of the Road to Emmaus which we read today in Luke’s gospel is a story, I think, which expresses the discovery in the Early Church that even though Jesus was not with them in an immediate physical sense, he was with them in the breaking of the bread, in the breaking open of the scriptures, and walking alongside them in the journey of faith.
This story, which only appears in Luke’s gospel, takes place on Sunday evening after the women have discovered the empty tomb. The blokes don’t believe them, but Peter runs to the tomb eventually and sees the linen cloths and is amazed. Then the story cuts immediately to this walk to Emmaus. There are ‘two of them’ on the road, and Jesus joins them, though they don’t recognise him until he takes bread, blesses and breaks it. One of ‘them’ is called Cleopas, and the other one is unnamed. Depictions of this story tend to show Jesus with two men walking, but there is nothing in the text to indicate that the both of ‘them’ are men. In fact, John’s gospel mentions Mary the wife of Cleopas as present at the tomb, so it would make sense for Cleopas and Mary to be the ones walking from one town to the next in the evening, and for this Mary to be the one who women who proclaimed Jesus’ resurrection.
This unfolding discovery amongst the early Followers of the Way – that Jesus become known to them in the breaking of the bread – may have seemed absurd at first. There were instances of early believers being accused of cannibalism because rumours abounded about them consuming a dead person’s body. But this might also be a lesson for us – that the presence of Christ can be found in the most unusual of circumstances, and no thing is too crazy for God to use as a form of revelation. Perhaps we discover Jesus in the breaking of the bread at the Eucharist, so that we can also be ready to discover Jesus in so many other aspects of our lives and communities.
Christ is Risen Alleluia, Alleluia
He is risen indeed, Alleluia, Alleluia