But as to partaking under both kinds, perhaps I simply prefer to follow what St. Paul received from The Lord and conveniently wrote down for our reference, rather than what some unknown cleric devised in the Middle Ages to remind the peasants of their inferiority.

It was not in the nature of things that a Celtic saint should despise music or poetry. St. Brigid being once on a journey, sought hospitality for herself and her sisters in the lios of a petty king. This king and his chief officers, including his harpers, were absent, but some of his sons did all that religious reverence and a hospitable spirit could for the suitable reception of their honoured guests. After a frugal meal the hosts and guests continued an interesting conversation, during which Brigid, observing the harps suspended on the wall, requested the princes to favour her with some of the ancient melodies of the country. “Alas, honoured lady!” said the eldest, “our father and the bard are absent, as we have mentioned, and neither my brothers nor myself have practised the art. However, bless our fingers, and we will do all in our power to gratify you.” She touched their fingers with the tips of her own, saying some prayers in a low voice; and when the young men sat down to the instruments, they drew from them such sweet and powerful melody as never before was heard in that hall. So enthralling was the music that it seemed as if they never could tire of playing, nor their audience of listening. While the performance was still proceeding the king and his suite entered the large hall, and were amazed at hearing sweet and skilful strains from the untaught fingers of the princes. Recognizing the saint and her daughters, their wonder ceased. The gift was not conferred for the occasion, for the princely performers retained their power over the harp-strings while they lived.

But, yes, the laity must live up to their part, especially as regards music.

Of course, it is not a matter of quantity, nor of numbers. One does not receive twice as much of Christ by receiving under two kinds. Christ is not divided. There is one Christ. There is one loaf; there is one cup; and the loaf and the cup are both the one Christ. The Christ partaken of in one mass is one and the same as the Christ partaken of at another mass. Receiving under the form of bread, I receive the Lord one and undivided.

Jesus said to the Apostles, “he who hears you hears me”. The Church tells me that receiving under the form of bread is a true and full communion — and in hearing the Church tell me that, I hear Christ telling me that.

The Body of Christ which is His Church tells me how I must and may receive the Body of Christ; and that is enough for me. The humility of the Catholic lies in submitting his judgment to the teaching of the Church.

Pastor S. – great piece, but you gotta expect that with columns like these you’re gonna “win some” and “lose some.”

And for another thing: it’s important to partake of The Lord’s presence, but it’s also pretty important for us to do what He told us to do. And He seems to have pretty clearly told us to take both bread and wine together, not just one or the other. Anyway, that’s what us Protestants think…

I think you’re going about this all wrong, probably because you’ve gotten too used to the Mass as a “performance” to be watched, so that there has to be action at all times, and whenever there isn’t that, you have “downtime.” While the vessels are being cleaned is a perfect moment to enter into silence and meditate on what — or Who, rather — you have just received. I humbly propose you take that attitude to the next Mass you attend and use time that is given to you for silent meditation, rather than just “sitting on your hands.” I don’t mean this to sound like a rebuke, by the way, but rather an encouragement for getting the best out of every Mass.