Friday, February 10, 2023

Intinction: To Sip or to Dip. That is the Question

I would like to offer some thoughts on the practice of Intinction in the Episcopal Church – thoughts that arise from nearly sixty years of worship in Episcopal churches from coast to coast, and from nearly forty years of practice as an ordained priest in the Episcopal Church, leading people in their worship and celebrating the Eucharist in congregations both tiny and large.


Intinction is a term we use for the process of dipping communion bread into the wine. For most of Christian history (in the Western tradition), people have taken Holy Communion (also known as the Mass, the Lord’s Supper, the Divine Liturgy, or the Eucharist – among others) by receiving the bread first (in the hand or upon the tongue), followed by wine sipped from the Common Cup (Chalice). Over the past century or so, as the public has become more aware of things like germs, bacteria, and viruses, the practice of “intinction” has crept into religious life as a (theoretically) “safer” (more hygienic) option.


Setting public health matters aside for a moment, let’s talk about Communion. When Jesus instituted the Last Supper, he identified two specific things he wanted his followers to continue: Eat this Bread, and Drink this Cup. In Paul’s epistle to the Corinthians, he reminds the church there to continue the practice that he (Paul) had received (and has passed along to them), which was to eat this bread and drink this cup. In the New Testament, it is clear that there are two substances to be received (bread and wine) and two actions to be undertaken (eat and drink). Those were Jesus’ instructions, and so that is what the Church has done for the past twenty centuries.


Over time, questions about certain details have arisen about how we “do” communion. Bread and wine are reserved and taken to the sick and shut-ins, for instance. The Church has recognized that Christ is really present in those elements as they are distributed by the laity or clergy. 


Christ is really present. That’s important to remember. “Where two or three are gathered together in my Name, I am there,” said Jesus. Communion isn’t just the bread and wine, it is the Body gathered, breaking, praying, and sharing. Communion is our being together “in Christ.” 


A person who may only receive the bread (or wine) is presumed to have benefited from having received both. For instance an alcoholic may choose to forgo the wine, and one with Crohn’s disease may forgo eating the bread, and one on a ventilator may forgo receiving either kind; each will still have received communion “in full.”


Practices have varied over the years. In some places the faithful receive only the bread, while the priest receives both. In our Episcopal (or Anglican) tradition, we receive in both kinds. The bread is most often placed in the open palm of the recipient, while the wine is distributed from a common cup we call the chalice. The person with the chalice wipes the cup after each person drinks from it, using a fair white cloth called a purificator (that which purifies). They wipe the rim both inside and out. Studies have shown that silver has some antiseptic properties, and a properly used purificator does an excellent job of cleaning the cup.


Intinction was rarely, if ever, used until the public became more aware of sanitation and hygiene. Personal intuition suggests that intinction (dipping the bread into the wine) is simply more sanitary than drinking from a common cup. Obviously a purificator can’t get “all” the germs, so dipping has just GOT to be safer. But, alas, such is not the case, primarily because of, well, people. Hands and fingertips tend to be much more dangerous (from a hygienic perspective) than the mouth. Leaving toileting habits aside, our hands are in constant contact with things other hands have touched. No matter how “clean” one may feel they are, they simply aren’t.


Secondly, while an individual may be careful in how they dip the bread ever so slightly into the wine, the same cannot be said for everyone. 


There are some who barely touch the wine with their bread, and there are those who do a deep dive as if looking for an oyster that’s promised a pearl of great price. Some are careful to avoid touching the rim of the chalice, where others use the rim as a steadying platform from which to do their dip. Scientific studies have confirmed that intinction is the least sanitary option for consuming communion wine. So while intinction has become very common, especially during the recent pandemic, it is not hygienic and is being increasingly discouraged by those responsible for guiding our liturgical life.. 


This, of course, grates against our American ethos of the individual getting to choose to do it their way like Frank Sinatra and, if challenged, threatening to let their boots do the walking like Frank’s daughter, Nancy (Sheesh, if I ain’t dating myself here)! “You can’t be the boss of me” is America’s true National Anthem.


While Episcopalians, like most Americans, try to avoid being legalistic or slavish to the letter of the law, we do have practices that serve to unite us in our worship. We are guided by the Pauline dictum that all should be done “decently and in order.” Chaos is antithetical to the love of God in Christ, so we have practices which have stood the test of time in helping us worship God in Spirit and in the beauty of holiness. 


We serve bread and wine, each in a distinct manner, not because them’s the rules, but because we are followers of Jesus who gave us this very special sacrament to unite us to him and to one another. We eat the bread and we drink the wine because those are the two actions that Jesus prescribed. 


We may dunk our donuts into our coffee and we may dunk our Oreos into our milk, and all food and drink will make its way over our tongues, down our throats and into our digestive tracts, but Jesus wasn’t interested in any of that. Jesus reminds us in other places that it’s not what goes in that defiles us, but what comes out. 


A question one may want to ask is, what is coming out of our hearts if Jesus tells his followers to eat and drink, but we decide we know better? Isn’t our goal to unite with Jesus – with one another? If my dipping poses a danger to my brethren in a way that eating and drinking don’t, how does that unite? How does that show love? If I refuse to follow Jesus’ simplest instructions regarding the way I receive (or distribute) Communion, what does that say about my relationship with him? 


Will we go to hell if we intinct? Of course not. Our task, as lovers of the Lover is to show the world our love for God and one another by dining with each in the manner that was prescribed, not childishly, but thoughtfully, prayerfully, meditatively, carefully, and lovingly. 


A person may decline the cup as he or she wishes. The Chalice bearer will never ask "Why?” The Minister will never ask those who decline the Bread “Why?” If one chooses not to receive the bread because of health or sin, the priest will offer the person a blessing. If one chooses to decline drinking from the common cup, the chalice bearer will simply pause and lift the cup as a sign of blessing (a practice from which toasting at weddings and special meals comes).


That’s the wonderful thing about God’s grace as we practice it in the Episcopal Church. We have our practices (rites and ceremonies) and people are invited to participate as fully as they are able. Most may, few must, and all will be blessed. There will be times and situations where intinction may be preferable, but for now, knowing that Covid is an airborne problem and not one of touch, it’s time to return to the ancient, historic manner of receiving Holy Communion in a manner Jesus prescribed - He who is the Great Physician.


The Rev. Keith Axberg, Retired


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