Communion in Extreme Circumstances
To the People of God in Northwest Intermountain Synod,
There are those who like to say that we are living in “unprecedented” times. They certainly feel unprecedented. However, for anyone with a knowledge of history there is nothing “unprecedented” about the time of pandemic due to COVID-19. The scale is, perhaps, larger than epidemics that have come before. But perhaps it is not. Perhaps it is our increased global connectedness through technology that has given us the sense of this being an unprecedented pandemic event—because we are seeing this virus unfold in real-time, not simply receiving reports of devastation months or years after the fact.
The oceans, once the mighty boundaries of continents, crossed only by those of great daring, wealth, and a willingness to risk life itself, are now traversed with such ease and regularity that they function as little more than the lines on maps that separate one state or country from another. We have truly become “global citizens”, and the actions taken or not taken in one country often have impacts on other countries oceans away.
Technology has helped us in our time of most recent pandemic. Through the wonders of technology, our religious leaders can lead us in weekly worship from the safety of their space of quarantine and we join in from the safety of our own spaces of quarantine. We are learning that church can work in such a medium, but it doesn’t not replicate the experience of gathering in our worship spaces. We miss the handshakes, hugs, and hearing the words of the gospel proclaimed—from the preacher’s lips to our ears--without the filter of miles of wires, fiber optic cables, and internet. Worship in this manner is sufficient, but we long for the humanity and community of worship.
We also long for the sacraments. But the water splashing in the baptismal font has been identified as a way that the COVID-19 virus can spread. Likewise, the bread and wine of communion have been identified as dangerous if strict (and honestly daunting) hygienic practices are not followed. As Lutherans, we are a sacramental people. We center ourselves around the Word made flesh, and the Word in bread and wine, and the water and the Word by which we are made part of the family of God—what are we to do when those ways that we most explicitly encounter God are taken away from us and labeled unsafe?
Initially, we thought we would be out of our regular church routines for just a week or so. It has become clear that we will be living this way for much longer than that, and with that comes the recognition that there are limits to the ways technology helps us be the Church. This raises some important questions for us as Lutherans: how do we live out an embodied faith in a time of virtual life? How do we answer the honest need for Word AND Sacrament ministry in a time when the one called by God to oversee such work is forbidden to be in the presence of the people they love and care for through the administration of those sacraments? There has been some suggestion that “virtual communion” is a possible solution to the problem. I reject this term, as even if administered with the help of technology, there would be nothing “virtual” about the sacrament. It would be real bread. Real wine. Real presence.
However, administering communion in this fashion raises different questions.
What about those congregations who record their worship services rather than live stream? What about those people who do not have access to the technology necessary to be part of a streamed gathering? In what ways does administering Holy Communion remotely impact the ways people interact with the church in the future?
These are not questions to be taken lightly, because they get to the very heart of what the Sacrament of the Lord’s Table is intended to be and how it is used to benefit the people of God.
I want to state that I have never had any concerns about right usage of the Sacrament if it is administered as part of a virtual gathering (i.e. a pastor on a screen proclaims the Words of Institution, while the congregation, gathered in their homes and watching the service have their own communion elements available to receive). Nor is lay presidency something I forbid, providing certain guidelines are followed and expectations met. I have a robust Lutheran theology that is rooted in the understanding of the Priesthood of all Believers—and the analogy I use to describe this is the following: if someone needs an emergency tracheotomy to save their life and a doctor is available to provide that life-saving action: the doctor should 100% be the one who performs the procedure. However, if there is no doctor available, it is helpful if someone else would make the attempt to save a life. Likewise, if a person needs one of the Sacraments, and a minister of Word & Sacrament is present: that minister should oversee the Sacrament. However, if there is no minister present or available, by virtue of our baptismal calling any other baptized Christian can preside over the Sacrament. I fully acknowledge that this is a broad interpretation of the Priesthood of All Believers, but it gets at the part of that doctrine that is important for this conversation.
In the time of COVID-19 sheltering in place, our Ministers of Word & Sacrament are present…but not present. Daily, we see the evidence of the danger we pose to others in this time of pandemic. It is heartbreaking, and our Ministers of Word & Sacrament (and Word & Service) are suffering in a rather unique way. God created them for time like this! It is in their bones to charge into contagion to care for their people. To provide help and comfort in the most elemental items…bread…water…wine…words. We worship a God who became incarnate—and for those of you who don’t know your Latin, it basically means that God wrapped Godself in meat—God put on flesh & dwelt among us! If God is dissatisfied with a disembodied relationship with God’s people, it stands to reason that those God has created and called to minister to God’s people will likewise be deeply dissatisfied with the current state of affairs.
Soon after the State of Washington issued a shelter in place order, I asked the pastors of the Northwest Intermountain Synod to refrain from presiding over Holy Communion through the season of Lent. I have taken time since then to think through my knee-jerk reaction of simply removing all boundaries around who celebrates the Sacrament and when. I approached people who hold a different view on sacramental good order to work through my thoughts on this—and I am grateful for the ways they pushed back and by doing so forced me into better articulations of my position or revealed some gaping holes that needed to be repaired. I spoke with those who share my perspective, in order to help craft the most helpful document I could in these times. I am grateful that they were willing to help me polish this into something that can be placed into the hands of the people of God in these times.
Through those conversations, I have been led away from “virtual” communion. I don’t think this is the best way to minister to God’s children in this time. There is something strangely sterile about it—and Jesus entered into the muck and dreck and fear and pain of life. Through my study of our Confessional documents, I was brought to a more “embodied” solution—allowing the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper to be celebrated by what Luther called “the head of the household”. This solution solves much of the dilemma of presiding remotely, as the Words of Institution are spoken by family members to one another. It can be done as a separate devotional activity by a family, or it can be incorporated into the timeline of a live-streamed OR recorded worship service. A pastor, congregation, or family member can telephone those without the ability to access streaming technology, or those who live alone, and provide for the Sacrament over the phone. Additionally, it does the really beautiful thing of bringing a holy moment into the center of a home—and our homes are all too often lacking in the holy because of the overwhelming demands of day-to-day life.
To that end, I have written a document entitled “Spirit & Life: Celebrating the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper in the Time of COVID-19.” This document provides historical background of our Lutheran tradition, establishes rubrics for good order around the Sacrament, a recipe for communion bread (though any bread will do) & an order of service for Holy Communion. This document has been distributed to Northwest Intermountain Synod pastors, and is also posted on our synod website: nwimsynod.org
We have pastors who will eagerly embrace this idea of Holy Communion in the Home. There are those who will not, preferring that their people continue to refrain from the Sacrament until the congregation can gather again. Our Confessional documents can be interpreted to support either stance. I want to stress that pastors are responsible for the administration of Word & Sacrament ministry for their congregation. My responsibility is to provide them with the tools they need to do that work. Agreeing with me on this will not garner them any special credit. Disagreeing with me on this will not cost them my full support. This is, in many ways, a choice the pastor alone can make. I support them in the decision they make, in full confidence that it is not arrived at without serious consideration and prayer. I trust and expect God’s people to provide the same support of their pastor on this issue. We have been blessed as a synod with deeply faithful pastors, who take this issue seriously, and lead in all times to the best of their abilities.
Beloved of God, the world has turned upside down in so many ways. It seems to me good, right, and salutary that important and familiar touchpoints be provided so that we can remember who—and Who’s—we are. What we were before is no more. What we will be after is still unknown. But no matter what, we remain God’s Holy People. Not perfect. Never perfect. But loved beyond death into life. I invite you to lean hard into the uncertainty of these days, trusting in the One who has knit us together in our mother’s wombs, and continues to watch over us. All will be well.
Bishop Kristen Kuempel