The vestry and wardens of my church are for open communion. They are all baptized, however, which has made me reflect upon what open communion means.
Open communion is when a congregation invites others to share the body and blood of Christ with individuals who are not baptized. I like the people who endorse open communion, as friends, but it makes me theologically nervous. I do think that there are some good consequences of open communion but want to call attention to a moral hazard that may lurk within such a theological shift.
When Jim Jones invited people to take suicide, the power of people ritually drinking the Kool-aid overwhelmed people's responses for individual survival. One person took it, and the next person followed, and then the next person, and then the next person. Why was that? An observer might ask, how is such group psychology different than taking communion? The difference is that taking communion is done with liberty, and baptism - ideally - represents this.
My mother is a Unitarian. The rule is pretty clear about her not taking communion. If she comes to church, she doesn't take communion. She prefers that. But in an open communion environment, I can become subtly coercive. I invite a dynamic that doesn't respect her choice not to engage in the ritual. She then seems stubborn in my book, and I proceed to get resentful she won't accept what I see as a divine act of generosity - that God even loves her! But now she seems to be refusing to become part of my family! I've just changed the rules for her so she can do what I want her to - take communion. I've now created more problems by impinging her integrity to participate only as a witness to the service, but inviting her to act in a way against her conscience.
By connecting baptism - or confirmation - with the Eucharist we allow people to connect liberty to with the process of sacrifice and redemption within the Eucharist. Perhaps this illuminates the general point of doctrine - to reveal and raise those desires we can't control, so we can look at them and use them for the sake of our mutual encouragement and aid. My point doctrine (good doctrine) enables, rather than constrains, freedom.
This is different than saying, doctrine is what makes things pure and holy. This seems to be the perspective of conservatives. Without doctrine, things get messy, unclean, and polluted. I don't find this as convincing, and such view is what makes liberal Christians upset and outsiders circumspect of Christian claims toward love - if you follow the rules, you are loved, which is not exactly the entire teaching of Jesus (who did say follow his commandments, but he did also say other things as well that shines a bright light upon what "following" and "commandments" are.)
I'm not disparaging it. But I think the impulse toward open communion is more important for those who are already baptized than those who are not baptized. As a baptized Christian, I want to be part of an open, engaging, loving church where people can come to the service and feel the power of God. Perhaps by emphasizing open communion other parts of our life begin to change: we become more welcoming as a rule, more able to invite people into the fellowship of friends that strengthens our communities and pleases God. We change to become better Christians. Thats what seems to make open communion justifiable: not because it protects the host, nor because it is an evangelical tool or drug. It changes the hearts of the baptized.
I don't think, however, there is any guarantee that those who are not baptized will find open communion, in itself, that much more intriguing in a church community. The more theologically serious may still refuse. And a few might try communion just to see how it feels. I sometimes suspect that open communion just becomes another sort of coercive Kool-aid. In my church, I hope that unbaptized, searching, theologically interested people come to discover the power of God within this world. But I hope they can feel as comfortable not taking communion as taking communion. But it is their choice, and the rule, ideally, lets them feel comfortable with their choice. The rule separating the baptized from the unbaptized allows them to make their decisions consciously.
My preference is that before we make this theological change, we make our baptismal font prominent. Through liturgical space and gesture we show who we are.
Comments
I would be okay with open
I would be okay with open communion. In short, I think sharing a meal and having meaningful discussions is a good thing. But, like you, I think we need to do some serious theological thought before we make that jump. I haven't looked at the issue of open communion quite like you've posted here, but it's an interesting take. And when I say "serious theological thought," I mean more than just a couple of resolutions at consecutive GC's.
One of the things we should think about doing, if we are going to go to open communion, is swapping the placement of the baptismal font and altar and making the font as big as the altar. What would that say about how we view the decision to become a Christian? What would that say about sharing a meal with outsiders? And a whole host of other things.
And since I'm not a big fan of breaking rubrics or canon, this is something I wouldn't even offer until we got it straightened out.
I like Ross's argument that
I like Ross's argument that "the stranger must be welcomed and offered the best of what you have… and if the Body and Blood of Christ is not the best we have, what is?"
There's my casuistic argument: "If a person who receives the consecrated bread and wine happens to be unbaptized, then what he receives simply is not Holy Communion." True, that gets you into tricky questions of when the bread and wine become ... whatever it is they become; but on that question, Alice's opinion is no more provable, nor any more refutable, than Bob's or Carol's or Dave's.
DC, I think this is the
DC, I think this is the default position of most Episcopal churches, and would actually make an excellent resolution. This frees the priest from being a policeman, and allows the church to be welcoming, while maintaining some theological integrity to the system.
Ref, I like the idea of making the baptismal font prominent. My vestry and I are thinking through this carefully. Open communion is helping us think this through - our ability to welcome all.
Fr. Gawain and friends, I
Fr. Gawain and friends,
I came on this conversation late, googling for 'open communion' a day or so ago. Fr. Gawain, many thanks for 'Welcome to Church' on St. Bart's homepage. What you all are doing together at St. Bart's and how you address the stranger encourage us again to imagine, hope and work for all God is asking our church to be. And what a pleasure in this blog discussion to find open-hearted people who also know theology matters.
I want to add two things to this discussion from almost thirty years of pastoral leadership in a missionary congregation in San Francisco that was among those pioneering the practice of open communion
- first, if we offer communion in a genuinely non-coercive way, people will make their own choice whether to receive or not. And most do choose to receive. And
- second, when people do put out their hands to receive Christ's body and blood, they know they are receiving God's and our best gift to them. What we've done, what they've chosen, and what they experience regularly moves people to tears and they come back. Adult baptisms were nearly always of people who had been receiving communion, and with baptism there were more tears as they continued to discover and feel God's grace. Sara Miles's book Take This Bread tells one of those stories and of the powerful lay ministry that grew from it.
Offering communion to everyone wasn't in our original plan when we founded the congregation; with the rest of the Episcopal Church we were still just beginning to find what it meant to offer communion to all baptized Christians including young children, but from the beginning, because we gathered everyone around the table and had lay people offering communion to one another, strangers were always offered communion, many of them unchurched people who told us at coffee hour that they were not baptized.
Listening to what those people who chose to receive said about their experience and comparing what happened with what we knew of Jesus' table fellowship in the Gospels, compelled us to ask new theological questions. As so often happens theology grows from practice, right out of what's happening in the liturgy. What was happening by accident became deliverate about 1982, when we began to make an invitation just before communion, 'Jesus welcomes everyone to HIS table, so we offer everyone communion.'
And Fr. Gawain, I think you're quite right that the most profound impact is on the community that is offering communion. It's very like the Gospel stories of unexpected things happening when Jesus was at table. The disciples or the head of the house objects to something that happens and Jesus uses the moment to stretch their understanding. Over and over again his answer reminds us of Isaiah's mountaintop feast for all people, the banquet that God was promising would take the mourning veil from humanity.
Sorry to come on this so late, but thanks for the conversation!
Donald Schell
Fr. Schell, for many years I
Fr. Schell, for many years I have admired your ministry. In Augsut 1996 I invited 17 friends - individuals on the Luce Scholars program with me- to attend St. Gregory's in SF, and they found it one of the most engaging experiences they had ever had in a church. We are currently working to reimagine our liturgy presently, and you have provided much encouragement.
I appreciate your perspective. I think that such gentleness may be very powerful evangelism. I'm inclined toward open communion, but I think the rule has some merit. I will not be a policeman, however, and it is clear that restricting communion is not a priority in my own congregation.
Blessings,
Fr. Gawain