How to Receive Communion to the Fullest

BOOK CLUB 2 | WEEK 7: A Devotional Journey Into the Mass, Ch. 7

If you’d like to purchase a copy of Carstens’ book, you may do so here. If you’d like to access the Table of Contents for this series, click here.

Photo by Shalone Cason on Unsplash

One of the most beautiful things about witnessing the blossoming faith of a child is the absolute simplicity with which they accept (and understand, albeit imperfectly) the truths of the faith. My daughter is two-and-a-half, and extremely verbal for her age, and it’s been mind-boggling to hear her utter sentences like, “Daddy, you open your mouth, him give you ‘Amen’ food!” or “Mommy, I older, I get Jesus food.” She has no technical knowledge of the meaning and depth of transubstantiation, and yet she trusts that what she sees and hears at Mass each week is important—that the little host is Jesus, that Father places Him on our tongues when we respond ‘amen’, and that when she is older, she too will be able to receive Him in this intimate way.

This week’s chapter is an opportunity to reflect with fresh eyes—like the eyes of a child—on our participation in the Eucharistic feast. We learn that our “food for the journey” is the fruit of the Tree of the Cross, which enters not only our physical bodies but our souls as well, transforming us (you are what you eat, after all) and, in turn, allowing us to transform the world.

This is the pinnacle of active participation. This is what we’re aiming for, what all the preparation is oriented towards: our intimate union with Christ—Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity—present in the Eucharist. In receiving the Eucharist, though, we not only receive Christ Himself (as if that were not enough!!), we also receive back our transformed and sanctified gift of self:

Remember all those prayers, works, joys, and sufferings; the fears, loves, sins, hopes, and thanksgivings—that is, your entire human life—that you added to the Church’s of bread and wine when the altar was prepared? These, along with the same sacrifices of each cell of the Mystical Body of Christ, have likewise been given to God and are returned to us transformed. It was the Great Animator, the Holy Spirit, who transformed these gifts, and even He Himself is a part of our lively reception.

This giving-and-receiving of self, this union-of-self-with-Christ, is the key moment of the Mass, toward which all things point and from which all things flow. Truly, the source and summit of the Christian life. Thus, continuing the digestion analogy, Carstens delves into a discussion of proper disposition for reception of the Eucharist—both the bare minimum (“be free from mortal sin”) and the more intentional preparation (“a large dose of humility—the larger, the better”).¹ Just as we want to prepare our homes to receive guests, we want to prepare our hearts to receive Christ. Moreover, we want to prepare our hearts to be transformed by Christ, to be transformed into Christ. This is what really happens when we receive the Eucharist with reverence and humility:

The maxim “You are what you eat” is supremely true of the Eucharist… [T]hat hamburger and fries at the last exit of my earthly journey is slowly but deliberately changing into me—its cholesterol, fat, carbohydrates, proteins, sodium, what have you. The Eucharistic bread and wine of my spiritual journey, on the other hand, is gradually and steadily changing me into Jesus—but only if I am disposed and humble enough to let the transformation happen.

Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed. We repeat at each Mass the words of the Roman Centurion in Matthew 8. Do we allow ourselves to really pray them, to understand and embrace them?²

I am not worthy.

He can heal me.

And the Eucharist is one of the most powerful, most efficacious ways in which that healing is communicated to me, if I allow myself to be transformed by it.

I also greatly appreciate Carstens’ discussion of posture.

Daniel Joseph Petty

recently mentioned how striking it was to see grown men genuflect to Christ in the tabernacle:

I loved the way every congregant took a knee and made the sign of the cross before they sat down. I later learned this was called genuflecting. This may sound silly to long-time Catholics, but I found this practice humbling and beautiful. To see grown, strong family men humble themselves and take a knee in honor of our King was something to behold.

As a cradle Catholic, I haven’t thought much of it—genuflecting is just something we do at Church, and occasionally at the movie theater if we’re particularly distracted… Daniel’s comment reminded me that I should see something profound in this apparently-simple gesture. And if this is true for a genuflection toward Christ in the tabernacle, then it must also be true for our reception of Christ into our very bodies. We’ve talked before about the importance of cultivating a sacramental vision, of acknowledging our reality as embodied souls. Here is another moment in which we are given the chance to let the posture of our bodies shape the posture of our hearts.

Those who are familiar with the internal bickerings of the Catholic Church may fear that I’m going to launch into an apologia for my preferred posture of reception, be that standing or kneeling, on the hands or on the tongue. Rest assured that I am not. The Church gives us options, and each can be done reverently and meaningfully, or routinely and carelessly, and there is no fruit to be gained from more pontificating on yet another mommy blog. Ultimately, as Carstens says, “Whichever option you choose, the spiritual attitude of docile transformation must accompany it—without this, the manner risks becoming meaningless.” I think this is an important point in some of the often-heated discussions… if what you are doing leads to pride, you’re missing the point entirely.³ Rather, choose whatever posture will best dispose your heart to receive this incredible gift!

Finally, we end the chapter with a quiet moment of prayer after Communion. Carstens highlights the Suscipe of St. Ignatius of Loyola⁴. Personally, I love the Anima Christi⁵ and this Prayer After Communion by St. Thomas Aquinas.⁶ In any case, this is a moment of unique intimacy and closeness with Our Lord, and one in which we can bring to Him everything we’re carrying, all the loved ones we want to intercede for, all our resolutions and reflections from this Mass that we want to carry into the week ahead. We can sit with Him in silence, listening at His feet. We can reflect on the Mass, the readings, the Collect. We can whisper prayers of Thanksgiving with our toddlers and do our best to say everything we want to say in simple terms: “Thank you, Jesus. Love you, Jesus. Help us to be holy.” In this moment, He is right there with us.

Our reception of the Eucharist is meant to transform us, and through us, to transform our families, our parishes, and our culture as a whole. “The worthy reception of Holy Communion—when we are in a state of grace and truly desire to be transformed into Jesus—is the most effective way (short of martyrdom) God gives us to attain Him.” What a gift and what a responsibility this is.

How do you dispose yourself to receive the Eucharist faithfully and with humility? What distractions most often arise in your mind and heart during these moments before Communion, and how do you strive to turn them over to the Lord?

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One more thing! We’ve got a date for our Virtual Discussion! Our call will be hosted on Monday, March 11, at 7:30pm CST. (You can click here to add the event to your Google calendar.) I am thrilled to share that Chris Carstens (the book’s author) is planning to join us! The call will be a chance for us to discuss the book more fully, to ask questions, and to share how these habits have been bearing fruit in our lives over this spring semester. If you have a moment, you can pop over to the chat threadand RSVP, share a question you’d like to ask on the call, or drop an insight you’ve gleaned from the book!

1. This is an important topic, and I would recommend reading this section carefully if you are new to the distinction between mortal and venial sin or if you struggle with scrupulosity.

2. A slight aside here—James and I, before the girls were born, assisted with the Confirmation prep at our parish, which took place immediately before the 5:00pm Traditional Latin Mass. As a result, we often attended that Mass, rather than paying the tolls twice each way to attend morning Mass and then return for youth group. While there are many beautiful things about the TLM that I miss, now that that season has drawn to a close for our family, one of the things that stands out to me the most (and that I, in a private capacity, carry on) is the repetition of this phrase three times instead of just once. I find that saying it aloud with the rest of the congregation—and then whispering it or praying it silently two more times—gives me the opportunity to really focus on the words, to really internalize them.

It’s not much. It’s a very simple habit. But it has borne tremendous fruit for me, when I see it as an opportunity and not simply another rote recitation.

3. Related: on Lenten penances.

4. Take Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my entire will, all that I have and possess. Thou hast given all to me. To Thee, O lord, I return it. All is Thine, dispose of it wholly according to Thy will. Give me Thy love and thy grace, for this is sufficient for me.

5. Soul of Christ, sanctify me;
Body of Christ, save me;
Blood of Christ, inebriate me;
Water from the side of Christ, wash me;
Passion of Christ, strengthen me;
O good Jesus hear me;
Within Thy wounds hide me;
permit me not to be separated from Thee;
From the wicket foe defend me;
At the hour of my death, call me;
And me come to Thee, that with Thy saints,
I may praise Thee forever and ever.

6. At the risk of lengthening these footnotes endlessly, I also have, for many years now, said this prayer after communion, given by Our Lady to Sister Josefa Menendez:

Have no fear, Josefa; leave yourself in the hands of Jesus and constantly repeat this prayer: “Oh Father, merciful and good, look upon Thy child, and make her so entirely Thine own that she may lose herself in Thy heart. May her one desire, oh Father, be to accomplish Thy holy will.” This prayer will please him, for he wants nothing so much as surrender, and by this you comfort his heart. Do not fear, abandon yourself. I will help you.

I first encountered Sister Josefa’s writings in a tiny book-pamphlet in our Adoration chapel, but have since been given her Way of Divine Love, which will take me a lifetime to finish and (God-willing) an eternity to fully digest. Links are to Amazon because these books are hard to find elsewhere, but please note that the prices are absolutely unreasonable—I wish I could direct you to a better option.