You've heard of "Lex Orandi, Lex Credendi"
Now get ready for Simia videt, simia facit (monkey see, monkey do).
Our Lutheran tradition of communing on the tongue and by means of the chalice follows five hundred years of precedent, spanning back to pre-reformation times (before the chalice was taken away from the laity). By giving and receiving the Lord’s body on the tongue and receiving the Lord’s blood from a chalice - as our Lutheran fathers did - we avoid the “unintended consequences” that centuries of wisdom has protected us from.
Of course, the American way is to experiment and find a better way - and to a lesser extent (especially among the boomer generation) to individualize and personalize all experiences to make it extra special, and all about us. Receiving the Lord’s blood in shot glasses was a monkey see, monkey do situation from Protestants who took the alcohol out of the “wine” so as to avoid the “sin” of drinking alcohol. And when the alcohol was removed, it created an impetus to use your own cup - now that the natural antiseptic of alcohol was removed. The law of unintended consequences is like a hydra that spawns new heads in a chain reaction.
Lutherans saw their Baptist friends with their own little cups and said, “I want that!” Their pastors, like indulgent fathers who wanted to be their children’s friends, said, “Well if my sweeties want individual cups, they’re going to get individual cups just like the Baptist kids.” And, of course, they convinced themselves that it was all adiaphora anyway (even though a cursory glance at the words and grammar of the Words of Institution makes it pretty hard to fudge).
And now, most of us are stuck with the blasted shot glasses, thanks to it becoming a neo-tradition (“I’ve been a Lutheran all my life, and we’ve always had individual cups”) like a fresh coat of barnacles or algae on the ship. Post-Covid germophobia hasn’t helped either.
Leaving our tradition to ape others was a bad idea.
But wait! There’s more! Now how much would you pay?
Vatican II suggested (and now strong-arms) Roman Catholics to receive the Lord’s body in the hand. It was more democratic (previously only the priest would touch the host, and only with the fingers that had been anointed at his ordination). What began as an option calcified into a requirement by some bishops. Now, Roman Catholics who wish to receive on the tongue while kneeling are discouraged, if not mocked and/or prohibited from doing so. Those who present for oral reception are sometimes likened to “lizards.” They are seen as “divisive.”
Following the principle of Simia videt, simia facit, Lutherans likewise started receiving communion in the hand in the hippy-dippy sixties (along with aping the Vatican II “passing of the peace” - which became an interruption of the service, a kind of seventh-inning stretch to walk around and yuck it up with the Smiths and Joneses - a helpful little break from the stuffy liturgy).
The unintended consequences included the reason why our fathers in the middle ages insisted on communing on the tongue in the first place. For once the Lord’s body is placed in someone’s hand, it can be secreted in a pocket and whisked away. And the pastor can’t do anything about it.
It might be taken home for a sick relative. It might be used as a kind of talisman. It might even be snatched away by someone wishing to desecrate it. I recently heard from a “Eucharistic minister” that guests at Roman Catholic weddings and funerals have begun keeping the consecrated wafers as souvenirs (another argument for closed communion vs. what some in our midst euphemistically call “eucharistic hospitality”). But hey, it’s an adiaphoron, which means, any and all options are equally good, right? I want my individual experience, and “I’ve been a Lutheran all my life, and I’m this-many years old…”
This communing in the hand has led to some goofy personal rituals.
Back in the eighties, I remember a couple (yes, they’re boomers, and boomers were young back then) who would kneel at the rail, take the host in the hand, and wait until both had one, and then commune each other into their mouths - like they were feeding each other their wedding cake. So cutesy. And once such rituals get started, they don’t typically stop. Sometimes they spread to others like a fungal infection. I’m sure the pastor never told them that this was not appropriate, since pastors want to be nice (like Jesus was always nice, never corrected anyone, and who gave us the Gospel in a nutshell: “Judge not”). It doesn’t matter what message this sends, nor that others may think this is keen and start aping it as well, or the unintended consequence of additional handling of the host which can result in dropping it (but hey, Jesus understands that we’re only human, and it’s not really His body until I eat it anyway,” yada yada).
Another personal ritual that I’ve heard (and yes, it’s boomers again - and don’t get all butthurt about it, I’m just reporting what I have observed), is to receive the body of Christ in the hand, and then break it before eating it, as this symbolizes Jesus being broken for me. This little bit of personal me-ology not only causes the risk of the Lord’s body to fall to the ground, it also unknowingly replicates a Reformed attack on Lutheran sacramentology (the Reformed insisted on the ritual of the “fraction” for validity, and the Lutherans demurred, and as we are wont to do, resolved to not-fraction even harder). Well, Satan has his tricks, doesn’t he? After all, it’s an adiaphoron, and these folks are just trying to make Communion more “special.” Think of it as a sacramental version of the personal pan pizza.
So what other hijinks are we in store for in the future, since we insist on handing people the Lord’s body and giving them their own little personal plastic cup?
The good news is that the younger generation is more traditional than their grandparents. They see the value of our centuries of Lutheran tradition without importing goofiness from the heterodox wings of the church. More young people receive on the tongue and from the chalice.
Contra Darwin, we aren’t monkeys and neither are our ancestors. So instead of aping the bad practices of others, maybe the thing to do is to not be monkeys about it at all, but to see and do what our fathers and mothers in the faith have wisely done for centuries, and stop looking to experiment and personalize and find extra rituals to make it “special.”
Here’s a novel idea: Let’s be authentically Lutheran!