Some of you may recall the article by Peter A. Kwasniewski we reproduced from Latin Mass magazine back in March, entitled "Musings on the October Synod" (March 16, 2006), offering his observations on the Eucharistic Synod called by Pope John Paul II before his death and concluded under Pope Benedict XVI at the beginning of his pontificate. Among other things, Kwasniewski observed that what was most surprising was the astonishing lack of discussion or even the seeming awareness of the most fundamental point in any attempt to come to grips with the Church of today and her Eucharistic life -- namely, the extent to which the so-called reform of the liturgy has been a disastrous failure. "Here was a golden opportunity for some honest soul-searching," he wrote, "for the admission of collective guilt in allowing the riches of the Western liturgical heritage to be pitilessly scattered and buried, for the proposal of radical cures to confront a disease already far advanced. Here was a chance, dare we say it, for humble acknowledgement that what the majority of the Fathers of Vatican II had expected and desired in a liturgical reform was far, far different from what actually transpired at the hands of Bugnini's band, that the de facto abolition of the unbroken custom of ad orientem worship and the associated destruction of sanctuaries and tabernacles across the world was a wretched mistake." Further, he insisted, the burning heart of the matter is the Mass in concreto, not he Eucharist in abstracto, for it is through the liturgy that the Lord gives Himself to us.Last month, hard on the heels of Kwasniewski's article, appeared the following article by Ryan Grant, entitled "At the Closing of the Year of the Eucharist," New Oxford Review (April, 2006), which is reproduced here with permission of the editor.
by Ryan Grant
If you've heard it once, you've heard it a thousand times: "Oh, at least I got to receive Communion." Or: "I made it just in time to receive Communion." Or else you have seen people make what is called "The Judas Shuffle": leaving before the final blessing just as Judas left right after receiving the Eucharist at the Last Supper. We have also seen the shock and horror at the suggestion that certain individuals, such as non-Catholics and "pro-choice Catholic" politicians, ought not to be given Communion.
Thus it seemed a much-needed relief and a hopeful sign when in October 2004 the late Holy Father, John Paul II, in his encyclical Ecclesia de Eucharistia, declared a Year of the Eucharist to last until October 2005. He said, among other things, "It is my supreme hope that this year will bring stronger devotion to the most Holy Eucharist."
What was done to foster an increased devotion? What was done to engender greater belief in the Real Presence among Catholics? Nothing discernible. John Paul II made some nice remarks, including that a greater sense of mystery ought to surround the Eucharist, and suggested in a working document that the increase in the use of Latin was advisable. Yet it does not seem that anything practical occurred at the parish level to make the renewal hoped for by the late Pontiff a reality. More importantly, what exactly has this "Year of the Eucharist," laudable though it may be, done for the Church?
There are still First Communion classes where children are learning that Jesus is in the bread, or that the Eucharist is merely a symbol. The 1992 Gallup poll indicating that less than 30 percent of Catholics believe in Transubstantiation doesn't seem to have changed much in 14 years. More importantly, a large number of the faithful believe that Communion is a right, not a gift. These modern attitudes and aberrations are not merely a change of custom, as their apologists would have us believe. Rather, they are indicative of a certain theological idea on the part of their originators, which is ever apparent in the faithfuls' understanding of Mass and Communion. This idea is that the Mass is not first and foremost a sacrifice as declared by the Council of Trent (and affirmed by John Paul II in Dominicae Cenae) but is a communal meal. Or perhaps an expression of community, a gathering time.
We also see this notion reflected in contemporary language used regarding the Mass. For example, the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is now commonly termed "Celebrating the Eucharist," an ambiguous formulation that would easily roll off the tongues of Anglicans and Lutherans. In many parishes, the priest is no longer referred to as the celebrant, but the presider, terms loaded with meaning. In Catholic theology a priest celebrates the Sacrifice, which he alone is empowered to do via his sacramental orders. However, in Protestant theology, because the minister is as much a priest as is his congregation, he presides over their act of worship. So, while the term presider might not be heretical per se, for there is some sense in which the priest presides over the action of Christ, the term is a half truth used by progressive liturgists to teach a falsehood. At best, it confuses the faithful as to the role of the priest and the nature of the Sacred Liturgy. "Celebrating the Eucharist," like "presider," is not heretical per se, but it is ambiguous. It is a half truth that only tells part of the story, and generally the Church Fathers agreed that in many cases a half truth is worse than a lie.
The 1992 Gallup poll question, "What is the Eucharist?" focused on one aspect alone of the Mass. Would the 30 percent of Catholics who answered that the Eucharist is Jesus be able to give a correct definition of the Mass, which is intrinsically bound up with the Eucharist? The Catechism of the Council of Trent defines the Mass as "The unbloody representation of the sacrifice of Calvary on the holy altar." How many Catholics could provide this answer? Further comment would be superfluous.
But these results should not surprise us, given the state of catechesis (if there is such a thing anymore) after Vatican II. No doubt this can be attributed to the non-sacral appearance of many a celebration of the new Missal to the over-emphasis of the notion of a communal meal.
Likewise, the tone, demeanor, and text of hymns regularly sung suggest that the celebration is for the people, not directed toward the Lord. Like most things modern the "our" and "us" and "we" songs in the hymnals easily outnumber any other types of hymns. Mgsr. Klaus Gamber, whom Pope Benedict XVI has ranked as one of the greatest liturgists of the 20th century, noted in his book Reform of the Roman Liturgy that "We are now involved in a liturgy in which God is no longer the center of our attention. Today the eyes of our faithful are no longer focused on God's Son having become Man hanging before us on the cross, or on the pictures of his saints, but on the human community assembled for a commemorative meal."
The manner by which numerous faithful receive Communion is empowered by this notion of Eucharist as meal. For if Mass is primarily a meal, then Communion is necessarily a right. We, in a rather self-centered manner, look at the Eucharist as a must-have, or worse, treat it as the item to be received at a fast-food counter. This is contrary to the manner of worship in the history of the Church.
Herein lies the crux of our modern problem. Coupled with the fact that the faithful now feel they have a right to Communion, there are numerous persons who take Communion in an unworthy state. In the Tridentine era, Catholics prepared themselves very carefully before receiving Communion. St. Therese of Lisieux prepared herself in the following manner: "When I am preparing for Holy Communion, I picture my soul as a piece of land and I beg the Blessed Virgin to remove from it any rubbish that would prevent it from being free; then I ask her to set up a huge tent worthy of heaven, adorning it with her own jewelry; finally, I invite all the angels and saints to come and conduct a magnificent concert there. It seems to me that when Jesus descends into my heart He is content to find Himself so well received and I, too, am content" (Story of a Soul). We would do well to imitate her example.
Further, the Council of Trent teaches: "It is not becoming for anyone to approach any of the sacred functions except solemnly, certainly, the more the holiness and the divinity of this heavenly sacrament is understood by a Christian, the more diligently ought he to take heed lest he approach to receive it without great reverence and holiness, especially when we read in the Apostle those words of terror: 'He that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh judgment to himself not discerning the body of the Lord' (1 Cor. 11:29). Therefore the precept, 'Let a man prove himself,' must be recalled to mind by him who wishes to communicate." St. Thomas calls the reception of Communion the "Foretaste of eternal glory." This is because when we are in eternal glory, we are in the presence of God, complete and total. When we receive Communion, we are in that same presence, though it is only a preview of that eternal glory we shall receive.
However, if when we die we should appear before God in a state of mortal sin, the Church has always and everywhere held that without a special act of God's mercy not revealed, one will be judged and sent to Hell. Even St. Francis, the "apostle of peace," said in his canticle of creation, "Praised be Sister Death, for no one can escape her grasp. Woe to those who die in mortal sin." Now, if one receives Communion in such a state, it is a foretaste of that eternal Judgment. This is why in the Tridentine Missal, the priest prays before Communion: "Perceptio corporis tui, Domine Iesu Christe, quod ego indignus sumere praesumo, non mihi proveniat in iudicium et condemnationem," which is: "Let not the partaking of your body O Lord Jesus Christ, be to my condemnation and judgment, though I am unworthy to presume to receive it." St. Thomas echoes this in his prayer after Communion, which can be found readily in the back of most Tridentine Missals and Breviaries: "Et precor, ut haec sancta communio non sit mihi reatus ad poenam, sed intercessio salutaris ad veniam," which is: "And I ask that this Holy Communion may not be to me a remittance unto punishment, but a saving plea unto forgiveness." Unfortunately, instead of instilling such attitudes of reverence and devotion toward the Holy Eucharist, there are certain priests in our time who preach to the contrary.
The Council of Trent said: "That so great a sacrament may not be unworthily received, and therefore unto death and condemnation, this holy Council ordains and declares that sacramental confession must necessarily be made beforehand by those whose conscience is burdened by mortal sin, however contrite they may consider themselves. If anyone moreover teaches the contrary or preaches or obstinately asserts, or even publicly by disputation shall presume to defend the contrary, by that fact itself he is excommunicated " (emphasis added). Yet how many Catholics eat and drink their condemnation, at the behest of their parish priest? And how many parish priests have excommunicated themselves by asserting this false teaching?
One cannot condemn strongly enough the attitude toward the Eucharist that progressive liturgists have instilled in the faithful: that it is rightfully theirs. (Of course, if somebody dares to kneel for Communion, then he must be kicked out of the church!).
We must carefully contemplate the state of our souls before reception of each and every Communion, and focus the mainstay of our worship on the Consecration, the very moment when the Sacrifice of Calvary is made re-present on the altar. For the whole of the Mass is itself the drama of our salvation, and the foretaste of our future glory.
Why is it that no such reforms were presented either from the Vatican or from our local bishops during this Year of the Eucharist? How is it that the teaching of the Eucharist was not given exposition?
Why were there so few missions in our dioceses that spoke on this pregnant topic, and so few bishops who explained how to receive Communion worthily? Rather, we saw more of the status quo as regards Holy Communion. Therefore, as with most things in the past 40 years, the Year of the Eucharist was, practically speaking, little more than a waste of time and paper.[Ryan Grant's "At the Closing of the Year of the Eucharist" was originally published in the New Oxford Review (April 2006), and is reprinted here by permission of New Oxford Review, 1069 Kains Ave., Berkeley CA 94706, U.S.A. Ryan Grant is a religion teacher at a Catholic high school in California.]
I do not want to leave the impression that I am simply a cantankerous ingrate and see nothing positive around me today. The Diocese of Charlotte last year sponsored a wonderful Eucharistic Congress that was in many ways an inspiration to all who attended. Those of us in this diocese owe a debt of gratitude to Bishop Peter J. Jugis for hosting such a Congress, as well as for so much else he has done for us. Yet when we look at the Church at large, and even the Church within our own Diocese, we cannot ignore the kinds of questions being raised by Kwasniewski and Grant. It would be irresponsible to do so. Those of us with any attachment to Catholic tradition find ourselves in a time of transition and trial in the Church. Personally we must each seek to strike a path between blissful ignorance and despair, between naively accepting the institutionalized abberations of the status quo and overlooking the fact that, on the other hand, even here in the desert wastes, He is with us.
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