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The Joy of the Mass, Part 2: Holy Communion - Page 2

© Kathryn Morse

It was sometime after teaching this chapter to the children (my daughter and the minister's children), I began to say this prayer in my mind before taking communion on communion Sunday: "Lord, I pray that this bread and this grape juice would truly be your flesh and blood for me." And when receiving communion in the Presbyterian church, I would experience great longing for a much closer physical relationship with the Lord. I say "physical" because it was a longing that could not be satisfied with more scripture reading or more prayer or more praise - I wanted to be "with" the Lord Jesus Christ.

A few months later, I was at a Southern Baptist church for the Lord's Supper. As the table was prepared for the service, I sensed it was being done in compliance with the Lord's command that we do this "in remembrance of him." The scriptures were read:

And he took the bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, "This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me." Luke 22:19

and

. . . he took the cup, saying "This is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you." Luke 22:20

The service was well done and the people were (and are) very nice, but I got the impression of a memorial service done out of obligation with no real meaning and even boredom. I wanted to shout, "This isn't being done with real feeling; this is more, much more, than you make it out to be. This is the Lord present among you! It's not just eating crackers and thinking about him! You are not doing this right." Of course, I did not shout; I just sat there, participating, yet unhappy.

Within two weeks, I had this extraordinary compulsion to go the Catholic Church. It was like a burning and a pounding in my chest that would not go away until I obeyed. I live in the Bible Belt; it's really more like a Baptist Bible Belt; and to be brought up Protestant and then to go to the Catholic Church is like committing social suicide. It was some choice - be labeled a kook, even a blasphemer, or obey the burning/pounding in my chest. I had made unpopular decisions before and I did so again.

A few months later, after instruction, I was confirmed as a Roman Catholic and my daughter took first communion. A year and half later, the other children that I had shared the experience of re-reading the Gospel of St. John and their parents were, also, brought into the Catholic Church. Jesus, the bread of life, is now available to us via transubstantiation in Holy Communion in the Catholic Church. Truly, the only better thing for us will be heaven itself.

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