A RECTOR in the diocese of Virginia, in the United States, the Revd Dr Cayce Ramey, has been causing a stir. Four years ago, he began a eucharistic “fast”, refusing to participate in holy communion, in an effort to draw attention to systemic racism in the Episcopal Church. He was disciplined by his bishop, barred from office, and threatened with deposition from the priesthood, until, this month, the Court of Review reversed those decisions (News, 11 July). Dr Ramey is a prophet.
Boycotts of holy communion, for very different reasons, are now proliferating throughout the Church of England, exacerbated by divisions over Prayers of Love and Faith.
It is now common at deanery synods for members to arrive deliberately late to avoid corporate worship, willing to do business together, but not to pray together; or, at induction services, for the gathered clergy to refuse holy communion, perhaps because the Bishop is present; or, at ordination services, for young deacons and presbyters to refuse to receive the sacrament from the bishop who has ordained them just minutes earlier. Nationally, when the General Synod meets for holy communion in York Minster each July, there is always widespread absenteeism on theological grounds.
A similar pattern is emerging when the Anglican Communion convenes. At the last Lambeth Conference, bishops from the Global South Fellowship of Anglican Churches (GSFA) decided to attend holy communion in Canterbury Cathedral but to remain in their seats, as a sign of the broken relationships between our Anglican Provinces.
Speaking personally, I have experimented with the same approach at the Anglican Consultative Council, which gathers representatives from across the Anglican world. Following the example of the GSFA bishops, I opted at ACC-17 in Hong Kong and ACC-18 in Ghana to attend every holy communion service, daily for a week, but did not receive the sacrament. It was an unsettling experience.
WHEN Anglicans are divided among ourselves, is withdrawal from holy communion — a type of “self-excommunication” — defensible? Yes, I believe it is, but only if approached with the right attitude.
Holy communion has a strong relational dimension. It is not only communion with Jesus Christ, but also communion with one another. This can too easily become an act of hypocrisy, if the unity that we proclaim in the sacrament bears little reality to the painful disunity that we experience in the Church. Holy communion then quickly becomes a formality and a fiction. It is sheer pretence to make statements with our liturgy which are not matched by our relationships. Before we sit together around the Lord’s table, we must pay serious attention to mending our divisions.
In this way, withdrawal from holy communion can be a prophetic sign of our desperate need of reconciliation. Importantly, self-excommunication must not be motivated by disapproval of other Christians. It does not involve turning away anyone else from the Lord’s table. Because the ground is level at the foot of the cross, it is wrong to pass moral censure on another communicant. To do so is to misunderstand our own radical need of redemption, like the Pharisee who prays, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people,” rather than the tax collector who cries, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”
Undertaken in a spirit of lament, withdrawal from holy communion is not a churlish act of division, but a penitent recognition of our existing fractures. It may be temporary withdrawal for a season, or in particular church contexts, to allow space to repair damaged relationships.
When our usual patterns of eucharistic fellowship are disrupted, we experience the reality of our divisions at a deep level and feel their impact more fully and honestly. This pain should drive us towards renewed efforts to seek reconciliation. Withdrawal from holy communion can be a prophetic act.
ON THE other hand, there are also strong theological reasons for continuing to participate in holy communion, even in the midst of Anglicanism’s deepest divisions. This, too, can be a prophetic act.
Jesus is the host at holy communion. He is the one who invites us to draw near. The Church and the clergy are simply messengers. As the Book of Common Prayer makes clear, we are summoned “in the name of God” and “in Christ’s behalf”. We are “lovingly called and bidden by God himself”. Our attendance at holy communion is, therefore, at one level, a reflection of our response to the gospel invitation.
Even if some clergy are immoral, we may, since they minister in Christ’s name and with Christ’s authority, still benefit from their ministry, both in preaching and sacraments (Article XXVI). Jesus guarantees the sacrament’s benefit to us, if we put our trust in him, no matter who is leading the service.
It is true that St Paul exhorted the Corinthian church not to associate with anyone who “claims to be a brother or sister” but is engaged in unrepentant sinful behaviour. Indeed, he instructs, “Do not even eat with such people” (1 Corinthians 5.11). This is a stark command to cut ties with those who profess Christian faith and yet reject the call to holiness. But Paul means socialising around everyday meals, not withdrawing from holy communion.
The great Victorian commentator J. C. Ryle, the first Bishop of Liverpool, is currently enjoying a resurgence of popularity around the world, among Anglicans and non-Anglicans alike. In his famous Expository Thoughts on the Gospels, he drove home the fact that “the traitor” Judas Iscariot was one of the first communicants, invited to the original holy communion in the upper room by Jesus. Ryle observed: “we must not regard all communicants as true believers and sincere servants of Christ. The evil and good will be found side by side even at the Lord’s Supper. No discipline can possibly prevent it.”
Therefore, Ryle urged his readers: “it is foolish to stay away from the Lord’s Supper because some communicants are unconverted, or to leave a church because some of its members are unsound. . . The servant of God must not pretend to be more exclusive than his Master; let him see to his own heart, and leave others to answer for themselves to God.” It was unscriptural, Ryle suggested, to “keep away from the Lord’s Table at some particular church, because some of the communicants live inconsistent lives”.
MOREOVER, holy communion points us forward to a better day. In the sacrament, we enjoy a small taste of heaven, when all God’s people will be gathered around God’s glorious throne, singing “Hallelujah!” and feasting together. Every division within the Church will then be healed, and every dispute will be forgotten — even among the Anglicans — and there will be eternal reconciliation among the saints.
Yes, withdrawal from holy communion, in a spirit of lament, can be a powerful prophetic sign of the urgent need for healing of our broken relationships. Yes, participating in holy communion, even in the midst of our current fragmentation, can be a powerful prophetic sign of the ultimate healing that is yet to come.
It is often difficult to discern which action is most appropriate in different ecclesial scenarios. The best test is what most provokes us to heartfelt pursuit of genuine unity beyond the liturgy. In our present travails in the Church of England and the wider Anglican Communion, let us heed the voices of both prophetic schools.
The Revd Dr Andrew Atherstone is Professor of Modern Anglicanism at the University of Oxford, and the author of Draw Near With Faith: Invitations to holy communion (Grove Books).
