This year, my two oldest kids participated in a book club about doing hard things in our homeschool co-op. I had the opportunity to sit in on a discussion one week, and the question was posed: Are you taking a stand for something in your life? What does that look like?
When it comes to teenagers, that self-conscious stage of life when “invisibility” might be the most wished-for superpower, standing up for anything is a big ask.
But what if standing up for something didn’t involve standing at all?
If you are Catholic, you probably know that there are a few approved methods for receiving Holy Communion. You can receive it on the tongue or in the hand, and you can be standing or kneeling.
All are OK. The important thing is doing it with a prayerful and reverent posture.
But because we are humans, we compare ourselves to each other. We are inclined to think the way we choose to do it is best, and everyone else is either an ungrateful heathen or a pretentious show-off.
Sigh.
I’ve evolved in my own preference over the years. When our parish priest installed kneelers at the front of the church, I took the opportunity to try kneeling while receiving on the tongue. It felt weird at first, as does anything different than how you’ve done it for forty-plus years. But now I like it, because the extra effort involved helps put me in a more reverent state of mind. Even though kneeling may become less feasible as I get older, for now, it’s my preference.
I don’t do it to demonstrate some level of holiness.
I do it because it humbles me.
It gets tricky when we’re visiting another church, and they don’t have the same setup. We recently attended a First Communion in another diocese. The church was filled with people from all over, including non-Catholics and infrequent churchgoers. There were no kneelers or communion rail. As I expected, most people were receiving the Eucharist by hand while standing.
Again, totally fine, as The Church reminds us.
I was planning to do the same. I looked at it as a “when in Rome” situation and decided I didn’t want to draw attention to myself in a way that might be distracting for others.
But I was behind my kids in the Communion line, and all three of them knelt.
Inspired by their lead, I chose to kneel as well.
I was proud of them, because it can be embarrassing to do something most people aren’t. And because in that moment, my kids reminded me that it’s not about me. I was stuck in the loop of thinking, How would it make ME feel? What would other people think about ME?
It’s been said that humility — which is why I choose to kneel in the first place — is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less.
Sure, my family’s actions might have created an unintended division among some of the relatives I’d be with at the party afterward. The answer, again, was to put my attention on loving them, not worrying about what they thought of me. I decided that whoever I found myself with, I’d make an effort to see them and be present. I’d ask questions about their life. And I’d be interested in their answers. It’s awfully hard to maintain a bad opinion of someone who loves you like Jesus does.
The outward actions we do in public are meaningless if we don’t back them up in our interactions with others. They are nothing more than an empty show.
No matter how we receive Our Lord in the Eucharist, our reverence in doing so is a witness to others. The simple act of taking it seriously and approaching Him with humility is a small way we can evangelize and encourage our brothers and sisters in Christ.
What does taking a stand for something look like?
Leave a Reply