A few arguments about open communion—whether or not churches should explicitly invite non-baptized persons to receive the Eucharist—have flared up again, this time because of a pointless political gambit. Writing from my position as an Anglican, I thought it worth putting down a few thoughts on the matter. They are broadly ‘formal,’ in that they focus on how to think different arguments together rather than on the specifics of what the Eucharist is. This is not because the latter is unimportant. My purpose here is just to explore the framework within which questions of the Eucharist’s character become relevant, as opposed to working out the relevance of different conceptions of the Eucharist within that framework.
A characteristic feature of debate over open communion is that the arguments are rehearsed, not developed. There are certain positions, and they can be articulated almost mechanically: once the question has been posed, the two sides will spool out like an ecclesiological Rube-Goldberg Machine. On the one hand, the body of Christ should be unconditionally available to everyone. To exclude, or make it clear that one excludes, people who have not been baptized from communion is to illicitly claim a kind of authority over who can participate in sacramental grace. On the other, not only has it always been held that baptism before communion is the proper order, so that one might be prepared for receiving that grace; and not only is it (in Anglican churches at least) enshrined in various canons; but it is anything but exclusionary. Baptism is open to everyone. And to be formed through baptism ensures that when one does participate in the Eucharist, one participates in something with a clear meaning, a clear identity, a clear implication as to the kind of transformation that grace freely effects. It is not a matter of needing to meet certain requirements before receiving communion, but of being shaped to belong to which itself has concrete shape. Against this, to even place this as a requirement is to discourage, to bar, or to again claim authority over the criteria for participation. Against that, this is only the case if one assumes that the invitation is not actively made to become a member of the church. And it isn’t exclusion anyway, but genuine invitation to transformation. And so on.
It is a dangerous sign when arguments are rehearsed. It typically indicates that they have become attached to an identity, which they are now being used to express. Or that the arguments are grounded in commitments—to the distinctness of Christian identity, or humility with regard to certain kinds of authority implicit in that identity; to an absolute invitation, and humility before grace’s free character—which are themselves so cast as to only allow one way of going forward. If one is committed to the transformative character of a sacramental Christianity, for example, the this is what one must say (from inside that particular version of this commitment, at least). But if one is committed to churches as spaces of unconditional welcome, one is compelled to take this position. The contours of debate have ossified. We talk past each other and dis-identify, or we agree and recognize community with those who share our values.
I have two thoughts here, one taking place within the argument, the other an attempt to reconfigure how competing goods are related to one another. The first regards the question of authority. One argument I see frequently is that baptism before communion is in the canons of the church, or is demanded by the theological orthodoxy that ordained persons have sworn to uphold. Priests and parishioners should be obedient to these canons and to those vows. Bishops should certainly be obedient this way, and themselves ensure obedience as best they can. A number of people have written about authority, most notably Paul Avis.
My thought is nothing more profound than that when such authority can be so utterly called into question, then it no longer exists, whether one thinks it should or not. As such, it serves no persuasive role in arguments against open communion. In the Episcopal Church, it is relatively clear that the conditions for exercising this authority no longer exist (this is complicatedly different, I think, for the Roman Catholic Church): the structure of the church, its emphases, and the commitments of enough of its members are such that if a bishop did try to censure a priest for offering open communion, nothing could ultimately be changed. Any attempt to rebuild this authority, and so use it as a compelling ground for argument, is doomed to fail. On the one hand, the attempt can’t claim any greater authority than already exists. On the other, it would be undesirable, requiring a forceful attempt to recalibrate the centers of consensus in the church—an attempt which would not be able to brook meaningful dissent, and lead to deeper alienation. One can, of course, decide to opt for baptism before Eucharist on the basis of respect for authority; but one cannot use appeal to that authority as an argument to convince others that they should do the same if they do not already accept your premises, nor can one use that authority to compel them to do so. If they do not accept your premises, meanwhile, the argument for authority will have to be grounded in something other than that authority; and then the locus of conviction will have been moved away from authority anyway. Either way, it serves no argumentative role.
The second thought is that the arguments as frequently rehearsed confuse the relationships between ‘good’ and ‘necessary,’ and so frame the matter such that compatible goods are rendered oppositional. I believe that there are good reasons to seek baptism before Eucharist. There are ways in which working through Christian formation in this order can orient oneself towards what one receives in a way that deepens the Sacrament. It is possible that this deepening cannot be effected in any other way (though whether this is the case, or how it could be demonstrated, I am unsure of). The claim ‘it is good to be baptized before one is invited to receive communion’ can be very true. There are also good reasons to explicitly invite everyone to receive the Eucharist, baptized or not. A person can enter a church with no Christian history, in deep need of what the Eucharist can offer, and in need of it then. If they read that they must be baptized first, it isn’t just the case that they might feel cut off from God and feel it better to just walk away (no matter how pastorally it is done), but that the need then is unmet.
There are good theological reasons to express the good of baptism and formation before the Eucharist, meanwhile, in the sense that grace is indeed a matter of transformation. And baptism too is a sacrament that can meet a real need. There are also good theological reasons to never withhold the Eucharist—or say that it is withheld, whether or not you’re able to ‘check’ a communicant’s baptismal status. It is fundamental to grace that one cannot be considered ‘ready’ before one receives it, in whatever form, and so to emphasize a proper order as the necessary readying for grace’s sacramental reception can risk betraying the very grace being offered.
In each instance, there are distinct goods which can be distorted. The good of formation can be transmuted into into a means of spiritual accreditation. The good of unconditional welcome can become a way of rejecting concreteness, if paired with a kind of subsuming and ultimately incoherent universalism (not in the sense of universal salvation). Both forms of humility can also become ways of claiming the authority before which one is humble for oneself, domineering for others. Abuse and clericalism are possible in both instances.
The key point is that these goods can be thought together. It is possible to emphasize benefits of seeking baptism before communion without saying that communion cannot be offered to the unbaptized. It is possible to offer communion to the unbaptized without denying the benefits of prior formation. It is possible to emphasize the boundlessness of grace without denying that grace can reconfigure boundaries. It is possible to emphasize the good of formation as a way of reconfiguring boundaries without saying that one must be so formed prior to receiving the Eucharist. ‘Good’ needn’t become ‘necessary,’ and the good of one approach needn’t be incompatible with the good of another.
If this smacks of ‘liberalism,’ in its pejorative sense—an emphasis on the equal in-principle validity of competing positions in a way that makes it impossible to meaningfully assert important values—then I am comfortable with that. I doubt this is an instance akin to the liberal equation of fascism with anti-fascism. And I doubt attempting to set goods alongside each other when they typically talk past each other dissolves what is at stake—namely, what it means to participate in the Body of Christ. I am sure that cyclical debates serve no-one. And I would argue that it is entirely possible to short-circuit this one by saying at the same time that all are welcome to receive the Eucharist and that there are also good reasons to seek baptism beforehand. Doing so removes the authoritarian overtones of making the latter necessary, without evacuating the sacrament of ‘significance’ (however this loaded term is configured).
It must be noted in closing that Christian formation is a fraught phenomenon. It is entirely possible for the transformation effected in formation to work against the logics of grace. Attempts to articulate the logics of grace might in turn prove destructive. There should be no assumption here that anything properly Christian is therefore ‘good,’ or that the sacraments and the liturgy surrounding them can mechanically effect a given vision of redeemed life (on the characteristic risks of Christian formation, c.f. Lauren Winner’s The Dangers of Christian Practice and Willie Jennings’ After Whiteness). The prayer remains that efforts to share Christ’s body and be formed in and for this sharing can empower the communication of a grace beyond articulation. If so, there is every reason to hope that the unconditional can exist with the particular in ways that wholly accord with who Jesus is in this sharing.
An Ed's Eye View 
Ed,
This is an excellent discussion and I appreciate your taking it out of the realm of the “rehearsed” positions. Part of where people talk past each other is in what we mean concretely when we talk about “open communion” or “communion without regard to baptism”. In an earlier day, of course, Open Communion referred to allowing all baptized believers to receive communion whether they were part of one’s denomination or not. This was controversial & eventually the Episcopal Church came down on the side of this sort of open communion. But it was more recent than most realize-it really wasn’t the common position until the trial use period in the run up to the 1979 BCP. (i.e. the 1970s).
The controversy you’re discussing arose somewhat later, not really getting much attention until the 1990s, I think. In 40 years as a priest, I’ve never inquired as to whether a person who presented themselves to receive the Eucharist had been baptized. Some churches where I was had explicit statements of who was qualified to receive communion, others didn’t-I mostly wasn’t the Rector, so I just went with the flow.
However, the issue that gives me pause is when there is an overt encouragement to have everyone present receive the sacrament, and going out of the way to make it plain that baptism isn’t necessary to receive. In some contexts it makes it “the thing to do” and even can create pressure to receive the sacrament for people who would otherwise demur. That sort of situation does make me uncomfortable.
I work very hard to say only what I mean and to mean what I say, especially theologically and in worship. I do this because the content of faith matters, If Jesus is the Truth, it distracts & makes it harder to talk about him if we do stuff that we don’t believe to be true, or lard on multiplication of doctrines & affirmations that are more and different than we can sincerely & meaningfully affirm. This is what I appreciate in your writing, by the way, you are careful to affirm only what you can affirm, qualifying as necessary, but then affirming with confidence.
The reason for this last paragraph is that the meaning of the Eucharist and of the communion we receive is primarily defined in the eucharistic rite itself, and particularly in the Eucharistic Prayer. The thing is, the prayer makes it clear that this action is participation in the death and resurrection of Christ. It has serious, very serious implications. Cheering someone on to receive and participate in the death of Christ while thinking that participation in baptism is a step too far, or maybe something down the road strikes me as absurd. If we really mean this stuff, it’s a set up for trauma and confusion. Certainly the example of jewish children attending church after an overnight with Christian friends would be a time when having them receive communion as part of the general sweep of “what we do” would be disrespectful and potentially traumatic.
I’m not so very concerned with the canons and ecclesial authority for the very good reasons that you outline. And I can easily conceive of times when a person properly receives communion without having been baptized. There are certainly examples of early martyrs whose baptism was “in their own blood” – having not yet been baptized or received the eucharist before their final witness. But as a general and encouraged practice I am not so sure. Martyrdom without regard to Baptism is more apposite than Communion without regard to Baptism.
thanks again.
Drew
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A great many thanks for your kind words and deeply thought out considerations, Drew! I think you raise a very important consideration, and one more or less absent from my post (which is much more ‘formal’!), namely how one approaches this given what the Eucharist is and can be. I think the concern makes a great deal of sense, and that a sense of the risk of participation (as well as the benefits) can be very important for the concrete practice of sharing in Communion. One of the major benefits of formation, moreover, is exactly what you indicate—a deeper sense of what the Eucharist is, whether for the community one is becoming part of or the wider church. So yes, I think this is a very helpful aspect of the question to bear in mind, and very relevant to the pastoral representation of invitation to communion.
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