Have I ever told you about the time I forced myself into a closed communion at a Catholic church?
In my defense, I was pretty young and didn't know any better. Looking back on it from a more adult understanding, I can't help but laugh at my gumption.
I grew up in a Baptist church that had open communion. Our understanding of communion was that the bread and wine grape juice were symbolic of Christ's body as a sacrifice for our sins and a continuing tradition from the night Jesus broke bread with his disciples before the sacrifice. Anyone could participate in communion as long as they believed that Christ came and died for our sins and rose again. As far as I was concerned, it was bread and grape juice with an important story and symbolism attached to it.
I didn't know squat diddly about transubstantiation. I'm linking that because I'm not even going to go into trying to explain it.
My church practiced communion only once a month, on the first Sunday of the month.
One day I found myself at a Catholic church with one of my friends. Mass had me completely discombobulated what with all the kneeling and chanting and totally ritualistic atmosphere. I remember thinking the pew kneelers were kind of fun.
I was surprised when communion came around because it wasn't the first Sunday of the month, but when my friend said that this church did communion every Sunday I just shrugged and figured it was a Catholic thing. Not that big of a deal, right? I'd just go with the flow.
People were going up one pew at a time to a table at the front of the church. At my church, ushers passed a plate with little pieces of bread and another one with little cups of grape juice that adults always seemed convinced I'd spill (I haven't yet!). Again, different tradition but nothing to freak out about.
They'd kneel in front of the table and the pastor priest would say something to them, then feed them the bread and grape juice. Then he'd do that cool air-cross thing.
When it came time for our pew, I just trotted up with them. My friend's parents were involved in the service so weren't there to stop me. I don't remember if my friend tried to explain the tradition to me or not. I just know I figured communion was communion.
I went up and knelt at the table like everyone else. The priest worked his way down the line and then to my GREAT insult, SKIPPED OVER ME! I mentally forgave him when he came back, but then it got worse.
You see, I realize now that I wasn't a member of the church nor anyone he recognized, that's why he skipped over me at first. He wanted to get through everyone he knew could take communion. He had to know if I was Catholic and had gone through the whole catechism thing.
I wasn't and I hadn't.
I don't remember how he worded the question, but I was so incredibly indignant that he seemed to be considering me unworthy of taking communion, which I had done for as long as I could remember, that I told him respectfully but quite plainly that "I AM a Christian and I believe in Jesus!" and I stared him down.
My friend's parents were probably horrified! Haha! Actually, I'll bet they thought it was kinda funny since they knew I didn't know any better.
The priest reluctantly allowed me to participate. And that's how I forced my semi-heathen self into closed communion at a Catholic church. I haven't attended a Catholic mass since then.
I've been to Baptist, Methodist, UCC, non-denominational, and Lutheran services. Luckily, by the time I got to a Lutheran church I knew better than to elbow my way into a closed communion!
In my defense, I was pretty young and didn't know any better. Looking back on it from a more adult understanding, I can't help but laugh at my gumption.
I grew up in a Baptist church that had open communion. Our understanding of communion was that the bread and wine grape juice were symbolic of Christ's body as a sacrifice for our sins and a continuing tradition from the night Jesus broke bread with his disciples before the sacrifice. Anyone could participate in communion as long as they believed that Christ came and died for our sins and rose again. As far as I was concerned, it was bread and grape juice with an important story and symbolism attached to it.
I didn't know squat diddly about transubstantiation. I'm linking that because I'm not even going to go into trying to explain it.
My church practiced communion only once a month, on the first Sunday of the month.
One day I found myself at a Catholic church with one of my friends. Mass had me completely discombobulated what with all the kneeling and chanting and totally ritualistic atmosphere. I remember thinking the pew kneelers were kind of fun.
I was surprised when communion came around because it wasn't the first Sunday of the month, but when my friend said that this church did communion every Sunday I just shrugged and figured it was a Catholic thing. Not that big of a deal, right? I'd just go with the flow.
People were going up one pew at a time to a table at the front of the church. At my church, ushers passed a plate with little pieces of bread and another one with little cups of grape juice that adults always seemed convinced I'd spill (I haven't yet!). Again, different tradition but nothing to freak out about.
They'd kneel in front of the table and the pastor priest would say something to them, then feed them the bread and grape juice. Then he'd do that cool air-cross thing.
When it came time for our pew, I just trotted up with them. My friend's parents were involved in the service so weren't there to stop me. I don't remember if my friend tried to explain the tradition to me or not. I just know I figured communion was communion.
I went up and knelt at the table like everyone else. The priest worked his way down the line and then to my GREAT insult, SKIPPED OVER ME! I mentally forgave him when he came back, but then it got worse.
You see, I realize now that I wasn't a member of the church nor anyone he recognized, that's why he skipped over me at first. He wanted to get through everyone he knew could take communion. He had to know if I was Catholic and had gone through the whole catechism thing.
I wasn't and I hadn't.
I don't remember how he worded the question, but I was so incredibly indignant that he seemed to be considering me unworthy of taking communion, which I had done for as long as I could remember, that I told him respectfully but quite plainly that "I AM a Christian and I believe in Jesus!" and I stared him down.
My friend's parents were probably horrified! Haha! Actually, I'll bet they thought it was kinda funny since they knew I didn't know any better.
The priest reluctantly allowed me to participate. And that's how I forced my semi-heathen self into closed communion at a Catholic church. I haven't attended a Catholic mass since then.
I've been to Baptist, Methodist, UCC, non-denominational, and Lutheran services. Luckily, by the time I got to a Lutheran church I knew better than to elbow my way into a closed communion!