Rethinking My Relationship with the Eucharist: Celiac Disease and Catholics

What if you could no longer receive Eucharist in the regular way? I have learned that when it is a choice between receiving the Body of Christ in a wheaten wafer as does the rest of the community - and my health - it is a very emotional issue as well as a logistical one.

I have always been able to eat pretty much anything, so a summer of severe gastrointestinal issues came as a huge shock. Doctors tested me for the usual "bugs," but concluded it was probably one of the "between 3 and 4 thousand viruses we don't test for." In September, I had a colonoscopy and upper endoscopy, which was initially reported as clear. However, when I went back for my follow-up appointment, he mentioned that microscopic examination of samples had revealed the cilia in the lining of my small intestine had atrophied, the sign of celiac disease. I protested that I was no longer having G-I issues. His response was simply "Well, see me if you are having any problems."  End of visit.

I had heard of celiac disease, but had never known anyone who had it. (One out of every 133 people in the U.S. have it.) From what I have since read, it's obvious the gastroenterologist really had no real experience with it either. He seemed to think that as long as I was not having G-I distress it was not much of an issue. The nurse for the internal medicine doctor who had referred me to the gastroenterologist suggested a gluten-free diet, but gave me incorrect information about what I could not eat.

Since then I have learned that celiac disease is regarded as very under-diagnosed (some estimate that 95% of people who have it don't know) and that "silent" celiac disease is indeed serious, even when there are no or few digestive issues. For people like me the only noticeable symptoms may be arthritis and major fatigue. The damage to the intestine means I do not absorb nutrients from food - which can result in severe osteoporosis, liver damage and even cancer. My best strategy is to eat a totally gluten-free diet for the rest of my life. That means nothing made with wheat, barley or rye. And that means no wheaten hosts for Communion.

I was certainly aware that the USCCB has a statement about low-gluten hosts, but never thought it would apply to me. After a few weeks when the communion host was the only wheat I knowingly ingested - and a tell-tale reactive rash - I made the difficult decision to deal with it. As a diocesan employee, I frequently receive at Masses with our bishop, so I first consulted our Office for Divine Worship. I was told I needed to purchase my own hosts and pyx and bring them to each Mass. So I ordered the hosts made by the Benedictine Sisters of Perpetual Adoration and an inexpensive starter pyx.

The early experience has not exactly been seamless.

• I have to remember to load my pyx and bring it with me to Mass. (The hosts need to be stored frozen because the lack of gluten means they go stale very quickly, so I can't just carry around a "spare" at all times.)
• At my parish, my pastor has been very good about it. He hands me my pyx, with the usual words "The Body of Christ." Since I am the only one doing this at the moment, communication has not been good. Other priests, communion ministers and deacons are confused and reluctant. I have sometimes had to ask for the pyx to be brought from the altar and usually they had it to me in silence. One priest insists I should just go up and take it if he forgets.
• The first time I received the special host, it completely stuck to the roof of my mouth. Since I was the cantor, that made singing the communion song a bit of a challenge.
• When I am handed the closed pyx, I have to open it and leverage the extremely thin wafer out with a fingernail. Sometimes it's a struggle.
• At each of the diocesan employee liturgies something different has happened. First, the bishop placed the open pyx in the ciborium with the other hosts and offered me my host in the normal way. Next time, the deacon came down separately and handed me my host. I don't know what to expect next.
• I attended a funeral at a local parish for a priest where there were many concelebrants - and three bishops. It was not my home parish, so I did not feel comfortable presenting my pyx at the altar. The Precious Blood was not offered to the congregation, so I did not go up for communion. 

Yes, there are logistical issues. I hope these will be worked out over time. What I was not prepared for, however, were my emotional reactions and the distraction that these can cause. These have included general sadness that this has to happen at all, uncertainty about procedure, fear that I will forget to bring a host with me, worry about whether my pyx will actually be on the altar at the Consecration, fear of causing a fuss or disruption to the communion line, reluctance to make an issue at an unfamiliar site or with new people, and sorrow when I am unable to receive.

I realize that my experience is not as difficult as it must be for people who have a severe reaction to even the tiniest amount of gluten. (There is some discussion in the Catholic celiac community about whether even the low-gluten hosts are safe.)  However, I am a highly-motivated, high-functioning, liturgically knowledgeable person. I already knew there were low-gluten hosts. I can only wonder how many people have stopped receiving communion or have stopped going to Mass altogether because of celiac disease.  

For me, this has and will continue to be a journey. It has resulted in my realizing just how important the Eucharist is in my life. I will struggle through this - because I have to, and because I have the right to receive the Body of Christ, even when it is not in the same way as the rest of the community.

Calendar Kids - "The Calendar Song" for Teaching the Liturgical Year

A reader, Brook Packard, a children's chapel minister for the Episcopal Church, forwarded me information on her resource for teaching kids about the liturgical year - "The Calendar Song."  This catchy and memorable song is a great way to teach kids the order of the seasons and what they are about. It can be used now as the new Liturgical Year begins, or serve as an Epiphany Proclamation for kids, as it is used in the video below of a mixed-age-group singing it in church.

You can learn how to obtain the sheet music to the song on her website. Brook has other resources there for catechesis as well - many are free - and since we Catholics share many things in common with the Episcopalians, almost everything "translates" across.

A New Liturgical Year: Another Chance to Get it Right

We are now in the Year of Grace 2014. Another Advent - another new liturgical year.

2014 Liturgical Year Calendar
from Liturgy Training Publications

Last night at Mass, my pastor, Herb Jones, OFM, preached about second chances - the new liturgical year as another chance to get ready to meet Jesus - at Christmas, and, by inference, when he comes again. Interesting... I had never looked at it quite that way.

As I get older, I admit I have been more likely to make resolutions each Advent than for the secular New Year on January 1st. Usually this takes the form of and intention to be more regular about prayer or something spiritual. And usually, by the end of the first month or so, those good intentions have gradually slid back to the status quo.

This year, I think I need to step back and explore being more intentional about my use of time in general. Chronically over-committed and over-scheduled, whenever I have open time my reaction is often to waste it - hanging out on social networks or watching TV shows I don't really even like. Whenever I escape the tyranny of doing things for other people and organizations, I think I over-react by doing the most irresponsible things with the open time, which leads to more stress and guilt because necessary personal tasks often go unfinished - books I really want to read are unread, there is a general untidiness about my living space, and I am often nearly or just a little late for work and events... Since I most value completion over process, the presence of such chaos is unnerving.  Changing this will not be easy, but all change begins with awareness of the problem.

What most needs to be changed about your life? What keeps you from being ready for Jesus? What do you need to become aware of ?

The Gift of Song: A Cantor's Story

A pastor once asked me what I considered  my primary vocation from God. What did I feel I did best? I think he expected something different than what immediately came to my lips. I did not mention my work as a liturgist, or as a writer or educator. "When I am a cantor," I said, without hesitation. When he looked at me in surprise, I told him that when I am at Mass leading song and proclaiming the psalm, it feels completely right, as if I am doing what God always meant for me to do. Never any question for me.

For those of you who have not heard me, I have to say that if I had a nickel for every time someone told me I had the "voice of an angel" I would be a rich woman. I say this in humility - I try not to take any undue pride in my ability. It is the gift of the Spirit - and the fruit of intentional work and a particular set of circumstances that have allowed me to tap my full vocal potential. I am conscious that when one has such a gift, it comes with a heavy responsibility to give back to God. I have done so in every parish in which I have been a member as well as at diocesan liturgies in two dioceses.

Born appropriately on St. Cecila's day, from early childhood I have been blessed with the gift of music. I had a number of years of formal voice training and experience in church and community choirs since the age of nine. By the time I joined the Catholic Church at age 34, I knew I wanted to be part of the parish choir. Becoming a cantor was a next step. I was lucky to belong to a parish with an experienced music director, among cantors who were well-trained. In the years that followed, I attended the Archdiocese of Chicago cantor school and the NPM cantor school several times. I learned, from listening to and watching the late Michael Hays, a truly extraordinary cantor, to pray the psalm deeply, with dignity, feeling and sensitivity to the prayer of the assembly.

I thought perhaps I would help those who are not part of this ministry to understand what goes into my service as a cantor. Here is my story.

When learning a new song or psalm, I practice not only at church with the other cantors, but at home as well. I try to learn the words and music well enough that by the time I am in front of people I am at ease enough with the technical aspects that I can concentrate on what is important - the song or psalm as the prayer of the people. I also study the meaning of the text and make connections to moments in my life when I knew what i am singing to be true on a deep level. As a cantor, I know the psalms well. They are an important part of my prayer life and the familiarity means I always know what the text offers to me and to the assembly.

As every Mass begins, I take my place at the music stand, greet the assembly and invite them to join the entrance song. I smile, make lots of eye contact and try never to bury my face in the book. This is about making it easy for people to participate, so I pronounce words clearly, make obvious breaths before entrances, start consonants a little early and keep a firm speed and emphatic rhythm. Having occasionally been the victim of song-leaders who stop between lines of music, I try always to make it obvious when the people are to come in on the next line.

The Glory to God is an occasion for energy and joy. Smiling as I intone the introduction, I use my arms in an inviting gesture, and encourage everyone in the room to sing by making deliberate eye contact. My current music minister and I both prefer to keep this great hymn moving at a good steady pace, to accentuate that it is a song of joyful praise.

Before the psalm, I intentionally create a short silence after the first reader sits before taking my place. At the stand, I breathe deeply, center myself, putting myself into the "mood" of the psalm - joy if it is a psalm of praise, penitence if it is a penitential psalm, gratitude for God's mercy, remembering the times when I was the beneficiary of God's help, etc.  I make eye contact with the entire room during the instrumental intonation of the refrain and then intone the refrain with particular attention to making the text a prayer, using my best enunciation, (because there is nothing more frustrating when I am in the assembly as being unable to understand all the words of the refrain.) I then turn the refrain over to the assembly, letting them own it, as I back away from the microphone a bit.

During the verses, I pay particular attention to musical tools that emphasize the meaning of the text - getting softer or louder or adjusting the tempo as the prayer seems to require, empahsizing certain words or phrases. This is largely spontaneous, according to what is in my heart at that moment. The amount of adrenaline and deep involvement in the psalm always leaves me drained for a moment as I sit down. I have poured myself and my faith into leading the prayer of the assembly. It takes a deep breath and a moment to refocus to listen to the second reading.

I watch carefully for the first signs that the presider intends to stand, then walk briskly to the music stand for the Gospel Acclamation. My intonation is meant to set the mood of  expectation for the all-important proclamation of the Gospel. I attempt to launch the people into joyful song, smiling and encouraging them to sing as the Book of the Gospels is brought to the ambo. As I sit for the homily, I often realize that I am very tired. If I have not broken a sweat during the Liturgy of the Word, I have not done my job!

During the Eucharistic Prayer, I focus on the altar and the prayer, eliminating unnecessary movement, so as not to distract, providing firm leadership for the people's acclamations. The communion song is an opportunity to help people respond in gratitude for what they have received. Normally this is a slower, more lyrical song which invites me to slow down and express sincere thanks and a sense of the beauty of the blessing of the Eucharist. The expectation is that the people sing... and many do.

At the end of Mass, I lead the Assembly to go forth singing in joy to proclaim the Gospel in the world - keeping the tempo firm and using lots of eye contact to encourage people to stay and sing.

Normally, by the time I get home after serving as cantor/song-leader, I am pretty exhausted. I have poured my entire self and all my ability into my role without holding anything back. If I do not spend myself for Christ and for the sake of his people, what good is it to have a beautiful voice? The gift is given for a purpose. I find joy in that purpose - and an anchor for the very meaning of my life. When I am too old to do this well, I pray for the patience and wisdom to know how to step down gracefully and to accept that someday, this ministry will no longer be my call. Until then,


“How can I keep from singing Your praise?
How can I ever say enough, how amazing is Your love?
How can I keep from shouting Your name?
I know I am loved by the King and it makes my heart want to sing.”

(Chris Tomlin)

Gratitude... It Should not be Seasonal

Apologies for the long hiatus - some serious health issues and a very busy time at the office, plus I wrote a major article which will appear in the March issue of Ministry and Liturgy magazine. The other good part is that I found the time to add pages for all the liturgical seasons to my website The Liturgical Catechist.  I have also been blessed to be working on a series of posts for the Loyola Press DRE Connect blog on ways catechists can reinforce rituals, prayers, music and other elements of the Mass in the classroom. (A new post should be published any day now. Links to previous posts are at the end of the current post.) The next major project is a book proposal for Loyola Press for a manual for new and untrained directors of religious education.

As Thanksgiving approaches and we prepare to enter Advent, 2013, I want to give particular thanks for all God's gifts, particularly for my healthy, beautiful granddaughter, Emma. She is proof that there is always the possibility of new life.

I am grateful for family, friends and my parish community, as well as the support of colleagues in the diocese. There is no substitute for a community of people who care. I am thankful to have a steady full-time job and a part-time job facilitating online classes for University of Dayton in an economy where so many are jobless. I am grateful for the beauty of golden-rose sunsets as I drive home from work these late November days, and for the quiet companionship of my cats. I thank God every time I am privileged to serve his people as a cantor at Mass, and for the continued strength and beauty of the voice given to me by the Holy Spirit, which I give back in praise.

I also give thanks for the new piece of the Cross I have been handed - the challenge of Celiac Disease. When I realized that the condition is serious enough that I needed to turn to low-gluten hosts, I was hit by the realization of how much I love the Eucharist. When I have been forced to receive only the Precious Blood because a host has not been available, I had a wrenching realization of the depth of my attachment to the Bread of Life. I know that the day I find myself at a Mass unequipped with my own host and pyx where the Precious Blood is not offered will be challenging. Yet, there is blessing in these new discoveries.

 I may not give thanks for all this often enough... Thanksgiving is a reminder that I should be grateful all year 'round - as should we all.

Sound Byte Liturgical Catechesis: Cardinal Dolan vs. Stephen Colbert

Well, Cardinal Dolan engaged with Stephen Colbert in some witty badinage and tongue-in-cheek liturgical catechesis about the Mass last night.

The Colbert Report
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Speaking about Pope Francis, Colbert, in character as the slightly cynical conservative Catholic, admitted:   

“I don’t care for the guy.”

“He loves you, Stephen.”

“Well, it’s unrequited at the moment. I’ll tell you why: here’s the thing: he’s too soft. He’s too soft on sin, for me, this pope. You heard what he said about atheists? He said even atheists are redeemed by Christ … If even atheists are redeemed by Christ, why have I been going to Mass every Sunday? I could have gotten another nine holes in! What do you think that means?"

“Look, you don’t got to Mass to win heaven. You go to ask God for help to get you there. You go to Mass to thank him for being such a great God that he wants you to spend eternity with him. That’s why you go to Mass. You don’t go to win heaven because you can’t earn it – it’s a gift. He wants to give it to all of us."

“I don’t always know why I’m going to Mass. But I’m usually glad that I did."

Well, the Cardinal may not have been the most nuanced in his explanation, but his contention that we go to Mass to seek for help for holiness in life to make us worthy of Heaven and to thank and praise God is not far from the truth.  Sound byte Catholicism? Maybe. But the truth is in there.  

Colbert's response is probably that of a typical Catholic in the pews. They don't always know why they go to Mass, but they are usually glad they did.  

Parish as Learning Community: Providing Learning Spaces for Adults

Going through my blog feeds this morning, under technology, I just saw this: Optimizing Informal Learning Spaces: Ten Tips for Universities - it occurred to me that just as universities are places for learning, our parishes should be as well. A parish is, according to the catechetical documents, a learning community. This should be true for all ages, not just for the children and youth. So, the idea of both formal and informal learning spaces for adult learning is one that we might consider borrowing from universities.

Certainly there are rooms where formal learning sessions for adults take place in every parish. However, what about people who do not come to "sessions?" What is available for browsing on Sunday morning, for example?  Where can people go to learn about good Catholic resources? To share and discuss faith informally?

Let's start with formal space. Some parishes do have libraries - and those are a great idea. These usually consist of a collection of books and videos, with perhaps the ability to use a DVD player. But why not add tablets populated with Catholic apps that people can sample? These could be prayer apps or news apps. The Missio app, for example, provides a daily feed of news videos from around the Catholic world, provided by the Vatican.  There are ways to attach tablets to a surface or the space could be monitored by a volunteer librarian.

Less-formal space is even better - it could involve an adult learning lounge. Why not provide a monitored open space with audio CD's, CD players and headphones, with comfortable chairs? There are many good audio learning resources. Tablets, as mentioned above, would also be a great idea. A literature rack could include a list of great Catholic apps for phones and tablets.  Magazines, a few pamphlets that can be taken home, even some of those inexpensive CD's that people could purchase might be a great idea.  Wi-fi so that people can use their own devices would be a must. Put a seating group off to the side for people to gather for informal discussion - or even consider a separate space behind a divider or in an adjoining room so that those who wish to study privately can do so without disturbance.

A great idea for the discussion area is to have a member of the parish staff present for informal Q&/A - on a rotating basis, perhaps. Or, provide table tents with the "Question of the Week" based on the Sunday gospel reading. These are available online both in English and Spanish from Sadlier and RCL/Benziger.

In the case of both adult spaces - do make them hospitable! Pleasant furnishings, perhaps some coffee and doughnuts, and a friendly volunteer monitor who knows about the collection would be a great addition.  Promote the space - put something on the website and in the bulletin regularly about the "learning lounge" and encourage adults to continue their lifelong journey of learning and growing in their faith.