Reflections on Eucharistic Sharing

One of the biggest stories to come out of the Primates’ Meeting in Tanzania last week was the news that a number of the primates refused to receive communion at the Eucharist in the presence of Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefforts-Schori. In a statement signed by seven archbishops, they defended their refusal to share with two arguments: first, that the New Testament teaches that before sitting at table with one another, we must be reconciled (referring to Matthew 5: 23-26 and I Corinthians 11: 27-29); and second, by quoting the Book of Common Prayer’s Exhortation to Communion which includes the statement “Ye that do truly and earnestly repent you of your sins, and are in love and charity with your neighbours, and intend to lead a new life, following the commandments of God, and walking from henceforth in his holy ways; Draw near with faith.”

There had been much speculation about this in the weeks leading up to the Primates’ Meeting, in part because it became known after their last meeting in 2005 that almost a third of the Primates refused to participate in joint Eucharists. We do not know yet how many withdrew from this expression of unity in Dar es Salaam, but it seems to be the case that the number this year is far fewer. Their actions are a reminder that Christian unity is a fragile thing and that it founders, not only on grave matters of doctrine and practice, but also on much more human faults—pride and self-righteousness.

My understanding of the Eucharist has taken shape over the years, beginning with my experience growing up in the Mennonite Church, where, when I was a boy, communion was used as a tool of discipline. One of my earliest memories as a baptized member of the church was the members’ meeting held several days before our semi-annual celebration of communion. I remember vividly how the clergy cited the roll of those who would be excluded from communion, excluded from membership because of their sins. Several years later, I remember as well how one elderly man would demonstratively leave the church service before the beginning of communion to make clear his conviction that our church was no longer the pure bride of Christ it needed to be.

Those members’ meetings lost their force over the years of my membership in that church, but they continued to hold power over my imagination and over the imaginations of much older members. I recall going through minutes of members’ meetings from early in the twentieth century with my aunts. We were amused by the infractions which led to excommunication—attendance at the County Fair was among the most grievous sins. But we were most surprised to see, in the report from one meeting in the 1910’s mention that my grandfather had been reinstated into full communion, though his infraction was not specified.

One of the reasons I became an Episcopalian was because I found in the celebration of the Eucharist, in the reception of Christ’s Body and Blood, a symbol of God’s gracious acceptance of me, a sinner. The words of the Confession, the Priest’s absolution, and our approach to the altar, is potent evidence of the power of God’s grace to overcome our sins, and to overcome our broken-ness as a community.

A few weeks ago, a Catholic visitor to St. James asked whether he needed to make his confession before participating in the Eucharistic celebration. I responded to him with a resounding “Maybe”—maybe, if his personal spiritual journey required that step. But I also said to him that the Eucharistic table was not our table, it is our Lord’s, and just as Jesus ate with sinners in his own lifetime, we come to the table, all of us, as sinners, all of us needing God’s grace. To deny access to the grace of the Eucharist for any reason, is to deny the power of repentance and to deny the power of God’s grace to make of each of us, each day, a new creation.

Fr. Jonathan