In the last
few weeks, some folks in the parish I serve (for a grand total of 8 weeks now!) have asked about my suggestion that we invite children
of any age to participate in Holy Communion. This has always been my tradition and invitation when entering into a new call - one I am very up front about during the interview process. I find that with a little "wondering aloud together," any potential discord is easily negotiated. So this is where I start:
What message are we conveying with the choices
we make around the distribution of the Meal? What signals – intentional or not
– are we sending with the choices we make about the Eucharist? If and/or when
we exclude people from the Meal (even for good reason), how is that message
received by those who are excluded?
I believe children understand fully
what it means to be left out. They inhabit a world in which they are presumed
to be insignificant or incapable all the
time. Clearly there are good reasons for this – I shudder at the thought of
my daughter driving a car even at 16, let alone now, at the age of 4 (kyrie eleison!).
But it’s worth wondering: Is there
a compelling reason to keep her – or any child who is able to chew and
swallow – from receiving Holy Communion? If there is a compelling reason
to exclude children from the Meal, can that reason be explained to them in a
way they can understand? They understand being left out. It is very hard
to explain to them why they are being
left out, even if there are good reasons. That’s why I prefer to invite all
people, regardless of age or faith tradition, to participate in this Meal. It
avoids leaving anyone – especially children – feeling as if they don’t belong. I can tell dozens of stories from my own life and those of colleagues about how children respond to being welcomed to the Table - or not. Some are funny, some infuriating, some heartbreaking. There is power in this Meal - and the power to withhold it should be exercised with serious and solemn caution.
That said, there are some common questions left to be pondered:
“How
can they understand what’s going on?” They can’t. Frankly, neither can
I. I have yet to meet anyone who can tell me how bread and wine can contain
the flesh and blood of Jesus Christ and are effective means of forgiving sin
and sustaining abundant and eternal life (least of all Martin Luther). Children do, however,
understand eating and drinking. They know what it means to be hungry,
the joyful ritual of a family meal, the gift of being fed.
The argument about “understanding”
(often made from Paul’s comments about “discerning the Body” in 1Corinthians 11:29)
has been used to exclude people with cognitive impairments (e.g., Down’s
Syndrome), as well as people who aren’t “our kind” of Christian (our friends in the Missouri and Wisconsin Synods want everyone at the table to share the same doctrine) – and, of course,
children. Interestingly, the text from 1 Corinthians, in context, is actually a
firm judgment by Paul against those who would dare to eat and drink too much
in front of others who are left hungry and thirsty. Kids get hunger and
thirst. They’re happy to be fed; they’re confused when they’re not.
But if we were to set the bar at cognitive capacity to understand the mechanics of the mystery of this Meal, then we're probably setting the bar impossibly high.
“What about First Communion?” I adore
the annual ritual of formally welcoming children to the Table. Kids dress up;
grandparents come to worship; the community rejoices that a new generation will
hold onto the gifts and promises of Christ received at this Table. We choke down incomprehensibly hard chunks of bread baked by their own little hands with gracious and grateful smiles on our faces. I love the opportunity to continue these traditions, even if some of them might be a bit overdone (just sayin': the miniature brides' dresses kind of creep me out).
I liken it to “Confirmation”:
Confirmation is a ritual that celebrates that young Christians have completed a
period of age-appropriate exploration of the gift of Holy Baptism and have decided to claim
that gift for themselves in the presence of others.
“First” Communion is a ritual that
celebrates that young Christians have completed a period of age-appropriate exploration of the gift of Holy Communion and have decided to claim that gift for themselves in
the presence of others.
In our tradition, we do not wait
until a child is 14 years old before bathing her in the waters of Baptism. I wonder
why we would make him wait before allowing God to feed him with the Bread of
Heaven as well.
Catechesis (teaching the faith) is a life-long process, and is often more effective when presented after participation in the mysteries of the faith - not necessarily before.
Of course, if folks prefer to have
their child(ren) wait until later to receive Holy Communion, that is a choice I
fully respect. Likewise, I assume we can respect the choice of other parents to
have their child(ren) participate in this Meal at an earlier age.
“What does the Bible
say?” Not much. Various traditions have evolved since the beginning of
the church, but the scriptures are not very helpful in settling questions about
these things. It’s not clear that any
of the disciples were baptized – ever! – let alone prior to sharing in the Lord’s Supper. It’s not clear whether Judas
left the table before or after Jesus broke the bread, leaving open the question
of “unrepentant” sinners at the Table. Paul gave us the language for the Words
of Institution in First Corinthians, but he offers little advice about who
should be invited and when. Matthew’s gospel and Luke’s book of Acts differ on
the “Name(s)” we should use to baptize... We could go on and on.
What we hold onto is this: Jesus
said, “Go and baptize.” So, we baptize. Jesus said, “Eat and drink in
remembrance of me.” So, we eat and drink. In the absence of biblical clarity,
we’ve been wondering aloud together for a long time as we craft traditions that resonate
with the core principles of our faith.
One of
those principles may be found by watching how Jesus regarded sinners, lepers,
people with disabilities, tax collectors, and children: He welcomed them. Fed
them. Healed them. Cared for them.
So, I suggest that we do, too.
“Let the little children come to
me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven
belongs” (Matthew 19:14).
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