Autism and the mysteries of the Mass: Holy Communion is not 'home food'

Autism and the mysteries of the Mass: Holy Communion is not 'home food'

Ever since the Last Supper, Catholics have pondered what happens during the Mass when they believe the bread and wine become the Body and Blood of Jesus.

"Because Christ our Redeemer said that it was truly his body that he was offering … it has always been the conviction of the Church … that by the consecration of the bread and wine there takes place a change of the whole substance of the bread into the substance of the body of Christ our Lord and of the whole substance of the wine into the substance of his blood," proclaimed the Council of Trent, after the Protestant Reformation.

"This change the holy Catholic Church has fittingly and properly called transubstantiation. The Eucharistic presence of Christ begins at the moment of the consecration and endures as long as the Eucharistic species subsist."

Believers approach this mystery with the greatest care and respect. This may be hard for children to grasp as they prepare for First Communion.

Now imagine trying to teach this core Catholic doctrine to persons -- young and old -- who have mental and physical disabilities that make it hard, or impossible, for them to acknowledge what is happening in the Mass.

"Because we believe Holy Communion is the Body and Blood or our Lord, we want to be very careful about this," said Father Matthew Schneider, who is known to his Twitter followers as @AutisticPriest.

"This isn't a theology test. No one needs a theology degree to take Holy Communion. We simply need to make sure that they know this is an act in a church rite -- that they are not eating ordinary food like at home. We're trying to find out if they have a basic understanding of what's happening."

Under Catholic canon law, children can be given Holy Communion "if they can distinguish the body of Christ from ordinary food and receive communion reverently."


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ProPublica aside, Iraq's northern plains are a key -- albeit underreported -- religion story

ProPublica, a nonprofit newsroom that does investigative journalism, isn’t known for religion coverage. Why, I have no idea, as the field is indeed rich.

But earlier this month, it published a piece on Iraqi Christians that calls out the duplicity of the Donald Trump Administration for calling Iraq too dangerous for Christians on one hand, while deporting hapless Iraqis from the United States whenever it can.

It’s one of the few pieces of reporting out there this year on how Iraq continues to be a huge mess.

Even as U.S. immigration officials have pushed to deport hundreds of Iraqi Christians over the last few years, asserting in court that they are unlikely to be targeted in their homeland, another arm of the Trump administration has insisted just the opposite, saying that Christians in Iraq face terror and extortion.

Last September, a senior Trump appointee at the U.S. Agency for International Development told a government commission that in the part of northern Iraq where many Christians live, militias aligned with Iran “terrorize those families brave enough to have returned, extort local businesses and openly pledge allegiance to Iran.”

Meanwhile:

The administration has sought to deport hundreds of Iraqis, many of them Christians, who immigrated to the U.S. years ago. To stay in the U.S., many of the Iraqis have to prove that if they are deported, they are most likely to be tortured by, or with the tacit permission of, the Iraqi government — a higher standard than what is used in typical asylum cases. That gives DHS a strong incentive to emphasize Iraq’s progress and portray the country’s government as competent and willing to protect all its people.


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Faith in quarantine: Why are some people praying at home while others flock to pews?

To state the matter bluntly, the question of the day is: Who went to church-temple-mosque this past weekend and who did not?

The related question: “Why?” Why did believers make the decisions that they made?

This is one of those cases in which it is impossible to write a story that captures the whole picture, since we are talking about one of the ultimate local, regional, state, national and international stories of our news lifetimes.

Journalists can try to produce a news-you-can-use list that hints at the whole. Check out this Religion News Service feature: “Coronavirus shutdowns disrupt America’s soul, closing houses of worship.” That list of bullets is so limited, because producing a representative national list would be impossible.

Thus, others will focus on the larger story by looking at the symbolic details. With the resources of The New York Times, that looks like this: “A Sunday Without Church: In Crisis, a Nation Asks, ‘What is Community?’ “ This is a fine story, although, yes, its anecdotes and examples seem mainline and limited. But, again, the true picture is too big to capture.

Journalists do what they can do. Here is the thesis statement, in magisterial Times voice, free of attributions:

This week, as the coronavirus has spread, one American ritual after another has vanished. March Madness is gone. No more morning gym workouts or lunches with co-workers. No more visits to grandparents in nursing homes. The Boston Marathon, held through war and weather since 1897, was postponed.

And now it was a Sunday without church. Governors from Kentucky to Maryland to North Carolina moved to shut down services, hoping to slow the disease’s spread. Catholic dioceses stopped public Mass, and some parishes limited attendance at funerals and weddings to immediate family. On Sunday morning the Vatican closed the coming Holy Week services to the public.

The number of Americans who regularly attend a church service has been steadily declining in recent years. Many have left the traditions of their childhood, finding solace and identity in new ways. But for the one in three adults who attend religious services weekly, the cancellations have meant a life rhythm disrupted. And for the broader country, canceled services were another symbol of a lost chance to be still, to breathe and to gather together in one of the oldest ways humans know, just when such things were needed most.

For a similar take from a smaller newsroom, consult this multi-source National Catholic Reporter piece: “Worshippers go online, those at services keep a distance.”

My friend Rod “Benedict Option” Dreher stayed home (as I did) and watched a live stream of the Divine Liturgy from his Orthodox Church in America parish in urban Baton Rouge, La. In other words, one computer screen stands for legions of screens elsewhere. See: “View From Your Pandemic Online Church.”

But I was haunted by one passage in one story — another example of how The Age of Donald Trump has infected everything, when it comes to news. The fact that the story was valid only made it worse.


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Plug-In: Amid Tennessee tornado wreckage, one man's faith offers a huge measure of hope

COOKEVILLE, Tenn. — Heartbreak and hope.

It’s a combination I’ve witnessed repeatedly when covering catastrophes, from the Oklahoma City bombing to Hurricane Katrina to, most recently, the March 3 Tennessee tornadoes that killed 25 people and injured hundreds.

In a ravaged neighborhood of this community 80 miles east of Nashville, I met a survivor slammed into his basement by the EF-4 twister that destroyed his home.

But rather than lament what he had lost, the man, Gary Flatt, thanked God for fellow Christians who had come to his aid.

“Someone looked at the house and said, ‘It’s unbelievable what a tornado can do,’” Flatt told me, standing amid the scattered debris. “And I told them, ‘No, it’s unbelievable what a bunch of loving Christians can do.’”

Yes, it’s true: People of faith do more than pray after a disaster such as this.

Here’s how religion writer Holly Meyer of The Tennessean described the religious community’s response to the tornadoes:

They transformed their houses of worship into de facto relief centers, organized droves of volunteers for cleanup, raised money and met the basic needs of storm survivors.

These belief-driven helpers have been at it for days.

In 2018, I enjoyed writing a feature (“18 wheels and a heart to serve”) about a faith-based disaster relief truck driver’s all-night drive from Nashville, Tenn., to Panama City, Fla., after Hurricane Michael.

The theme: Heartbreak and hope.


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Thinking about faith during a plague: Input from Singapore on dealing with coronavirus crisis

This is not a normal Sunday morning — anywhere.

I’m typing this after spending the morning doing something I have never done before — watching an Internet live stream of the the Divine Liturgy of my home parish, St. Anne Orthodox Church in Oak Ridge, Tenn. I am, to be blunt, an at-risk individual since I am (a) 60something, (b) someone with asthma and chronic sinus issues and (c) someone who had a sore throat and low fever six days ago (both gone).

But I was not the only person who was not present in the service. Under the extraordinary (and I believe very wise) instructions of our Archbishop Alexander of Dallas and the Diocese of the South the rite was being celebrated by our clergy and a few chanters — while everyone else stayed home as a form of “social distancing.” Priests will take the Sacraments to the sick and hospitalized as needed, of course.

Our archbishop’s instructions (.pdf document here) represented a crisp, clear statement of one of the major COVID-19 news stories taking place in our world, this morning. In part, he wrote:

Everyone in the parish or mission, other than the priest (and deacon), a reader, a server, and no more than two (2) chanters or singers (all of whom are physically strong and at low risk for COVID-19), should remain at home, even at the time of the Divine Liturgy. The holy body and precious blood of our Lord can never be a source of disease, it is after all for the healing of soul and body, but the COVID-19 virus can still be passed through the congregation. Out of love for our neighbor, we must do everything we can to protect the vulnerable by slowing the rate of infection not only in our parishes, but in the greater community, and thereby allowing the hospitals and medical community to more adequately care for those most at risk. All who are “at risk” — the elderly, those with pre-existing conditions, any who are actively sick or exhibiting signs of illness — should absolutely absent themselves from the services. ...

If possible, the service should be webcast on the internet so that the faithful may participate in the prayers, which are themselves a source of grace and consolation.

The liturgy was followed by special prayers in our ancient tradition, the Molieben in Times of Pestilence. When it comes to plagues and disasters, ancient faiths offer ancient rites — because the faithful have been through all of this many times before.

This leads me to this weekend’s think piece, an essay by Edric Sng that ran on March 11 (that seems like an eternity ago) at Christianity Today.


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What’s happening to the religious makeup of the world (including in locked-up China)?

What’s happening to the religious makeup of the world (including in locked-up China)?

THE QUESTION:

What are the long-term trends for the world’s religions? What’s the situation in China?

THE RELIGION GUY’S ANSWER:

Broad-brush, Christianity remains the world’s largest and most widespread religion and will still be so in 2050 thanks to steady growth in “Global South” nations of Africa, Asia and Latin America. However, Islam is steadily gaining ground.

Declines relative to the population have been suffered by folk religions in China, tribal traditions elsewhere, and the ranks of the non-religious. In 1800, Christianity and Islam together represented a third of the world population but these outreach-oriented faiths will encompass a projected 64 percent by 2050.

All that and much more is reported in the newly published third edition of the"World Christian Encyclopedia" (Edinburgh University Press, 998 pages, $215.95), compiled by the Center for the Study of Global Christianity at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, an evangelical Protestant school in Massachusetts. It was edited by the center’s Todd Johnson and Gina Zurlo, who led a team of 40 along with hundreds of expert consultants across the globe.

The encyclopedia contains unique statistics and analysis on each religious group that exists within each of the world’s 234 nations and territories, with elaborate information on cultural groupings and 45,000 Christian denominations. Quite obviously, this monumental reference work belongs in every serious library in the English-speaking world.

Here are the estimates comparing major religions’ size as of 1970 with their current numbers.


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New podcast: Autism and Holy Communion -- Like it or not, doctrine is part of this story

This was the rare week in which my national “On Religion” column for the Universal syndicate grew directly out of a recent GetReligion post, the one with this headline: “Autism and Communion: Textbook social-media clash between parents, press and church.” The syndicated column then provided the hook for this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in).

That’s a lot of material to take in. Why did I think that this issue was worthy of all that attention?

Basically, it was a four-step process and I have to admit that I had a personal reason for taking this on.

(1) Let’s start with the USA Today story, which ran with this headline: “Boy with autism denied First Communion at Catholic church: 'That is discrimination,' mom says.

That story offered a classic news-coverage clash between “discrimination” language that is so popular with journalists and the efforts of church leaders to, perhaps imperfectly, minister to people with special needs while also honoring 2,000 years of Catholic doctrine about Holy Communion.

(2) Doctrine vs. discrimination? What could go wrong? This USA Today piece was a classic example of a larger issue that your GetReligionistas have encountered over and over during the past 17 years.

Simply stated, journalists (especially reporters without religion-beat experience) have a tendency to frame religion news in images and language drawn from political conflicts. Who needs to dig into the details of Catholic tradition and canon law — including statements about Holy Communion and people with autism — when you can write a headline that shouts “Discrimination!”

Once again, there’s that doctrine found in way too many newsrooms: The world of politics is real. Faith and doctrine? Not so much.


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Ryan Burge on unique coronavirus fears in pews of America's aging 'mainline' churches

Anyone who has worked in a newsroom knows that journalists often have to study the equation 1+1+X=3 and then find the missing X factor that produces “what comes next.”

What am I talking about? Journalists look at one set of facts in the news. Then they study another set of facts that we tend to take for granted or that we have pushed onto the news back burner. When you pay attention to where the two sets of facts overlap — #BOOM — you can see potential headlines.

Right now, the coronavirus crisis is creating all kinds of overlapping sets of facts and many are life-and-death matters. This is shaping the headlines and this trend will only increase.

However, after all of the COVID-19 stories I’ve read in the past week (while 66-year-old me has faced my usual spring sinus woes), none has hit me harder than a Religion News Service essay — “Why mainline Protestants might fear COVID-19 the most” — by political scientist Ryan Burge (also a contributor here at GetReligion). It’s crucial that he is also the Rev. Ryan Burge. He teaches at Eastern Illinois University, but he also a minister in the American Baptist Churches USA. Here is the overture:

I walked through the doors of First Baptist Church of Mount Vernon, Illinois, a congregation that I’ve pastored for the last 13 years, and shook hands with the 91-year-old greeter. Afterward, she said to me, “I didn’t know if we should shake hands today.”

I hadn’t even thought about it, but I know that she had.

COVID-19 has now infected more than 100,000 people, killing 4,000 of them across the globe. But, one of the real curiosities is that the mortality rate is dramatically different based on age. The disease takes the life of nearly 15% of the people that it infects over the age of 80.

I find that to be incredibly cruel, especially for my mainline church that has been dwindling in size and increasing in age at a stunning rate. Of our 20 or so active members, four of them are over the age of 90. Another 10 are in their 80s. If COVID-19 becomes a true global pandemic, my church would likely not fare well.


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Farewell to a familiar news story angle? Argentina shows that pope's policy clout is fading

Past popes have exerted an enormous amount of influence on politics around the world. A pope’s influential reach — and the large number of Catholics around the world — has often been vital in the shaping of laws and policy.

The best example is Saint Pope John Paul II. The Polish-born pontiff was instrumental in the fall of communism some three decades ago. His successor, Pope Benedict XVI, had a different approach. Not a media star like JPII, Benedict focused his efforts on Africa. With help from humanitarian aid organizations, the Vatican exerted a great amount of influence in many African nations where the church matters. The church continues to grow there.

This has helped shape how journalists cover the papacy and, thus, the Catholicism. Shaping world politics? That’s news. Shaping doctrines and how people worship? That’s news— maybe. It depends. Do the doctrines have anything to do with gender or sex?

This brings us to Pope Francis.

A progressive star to some, Francis has made immigration and climate change the cornerstones of his foreign policy priorities. Although he is considered a man of great influence, his papacy has also coincided with the rise of both secularism and populism. That has given the Vatican strange bedfellows on some issues — like aligning itself with left-wing parties in Italy. His initiatives have been ineffective with others.

Francis’ papacy — aside from dividing Catholics, predominantly in the United States — has been a disappointment on a great many issues. While the pope’s position is within traditional Catholic teaching (on climate change and immigration), it has polarized many and been widely dismissed by the same populist governments that have also been appealing to doctrinally conservative-minded voters. Francis is not a forceful diplomat like John Paul II nor a prominent theologian like Benedict.

In terms of his strengths, Francis is seen as both humble and simple — traits that don’t get the job done when it comes to international diplomacy.


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