Judge Not! Lest Ye Be Judged

 

I am remonstrating with myself, in advance, apropos today's subject. I am about to tread the thin line among observation, a modicum of philosophizing and plain old condemnation. Where I shall finally step is a mystery to me, but here goes!

When religious motivation within me, and external chance, in this case, a day off, collide, I will go to a daily Mass. This I did on Thursday. Small church. Small crowd. Immense Grace. My faith, at best, is sporadic and fragmented on any day, but in the key moment in the Eucharistic Celebration, when the priest raises the now Consecrated Host, the ACTUAL, TRUE and REAL PRESENCE of God, the Son, my belief is miraculously actual, true and real. Receiving has lately become meaningful to me, as it has probably not properly been for most of my life.

I joined the eager communicants of the regulars. I envy them (oops, not supposed to envy, maybe it's not envy but admiration) the dedication of their daily attendance. A white bearded, white haired man courteously allows me to exit the pew to go ahead of him. Then, as we advance, I hear it, the swishing click click of gum chewing. Step. Click. Step. Click. He isn't blowing any bubbles, but it is loud. I regret that I am no longer concentrating on my own conscience and the Gift to come, but on speculating on what my civil friend (I cannot reconcile this casualness against the kind behavior of his letting me ahead of him) is thinking about taking God into his mouth alongside the sticky gum. I recollect homilies about our lack of awareness, as Catholics, of the Salvific Signficance of our joining in this Meal, and our haphazard approach toward the Second Person who will be placed on tongue or in cupped left hand supported by the right. There is the sudden righteous, and yes, judgmental thought, "I would never do that! followed by the perfunctorily contrite, "I probably have done far worse. No, I know. I have have surely done far worse" than chew gum before, during and after receiving Communion. But he isn't even trying to hide it. Can the person next to him hear it? Then, a well, it isn't my business, or is it? thought. I am not considering a tattling shout, "Stop, he is chewing gum, father!" Should I be?I am suddenly reminded of the day before, when a priest friend told some acquaintances that he gives Communion to other Christians, though non-Catholics. I feel guilty on every possible side. I understand why my non-Catholic brethren feel insulted when a committed to dogma priest, the very man I am about to receive Communion from in the middle of my distraction, refuses them the Host. I understand the theology surrounding the decision not to allow other Christians to partake, that the recipient must believe in the TRUE PRESENCE, I mean, THIS IS the BODY OF CHRIST, and if he cannot, then to receive is antithetical to the heart and belief of the person accepting Him. I did not contradict my friend the other day. He is the priest. Who am I to say, "Ah, Father. . . . just one thing." And he is far more educated than I am in divinity study. So, I took the path of least resistance. Or maybe the path of not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings, or get myself into trouble for embarrassing everyone, including myself. What do I know? Same theory in the shortening line. I am not telling the nice man chewing gum to take it out of his mouth and I am not ratting on him. And, if I can avoid it, I am not judging him. Maybe he doesn't know about the one hour rule. Sounds silly I suppose. But the idea is that the gravitas of receiving God into one's body AND soul warrants at least an hour's abstinence. There is only one person left in front of me before my turn. I want to bow to My Lord, about to be received. So I forgot about the man behind me. I didn't even look back. I hope that is ok, Lord. I don't know what was the right thing to do. I know I am supposed to have. But I didn't.