on not being allowed to receive communion anymore

Well, this time it's personal. The American Catholic bishops have been after homosexuals for the last couple years and have barred them from the priesthood and from heaven and from communion, and have done everything but lock the doors of the church against them (unless they promise never to have sex, ever, and to repent of ever having had sex) and of course I have been outraged and ashamed. Still, solidarity is one thing, and shared misery is another. Now the bishops, who are clearly thinking way too much about sex, are telling us that if we use birth control, or if we have a serious disagreement with the church on doctrinal matters, that we should not receive the body and blood of Jesus in communion, because, I guess, Jesus was a little more picky than we thought about who could come to his table.

So it's a new feeling to have joined the ranks of the non-communicants. I've been very sad about it until just now, when I realized that I am in good company. Practically the whole darn church has now been banned from receiving communion. The party has clearly moved outside. And, now that I think about it, given a choice between standing with the outcasts or hanging with the brocade-clad in-group, where would Jesus want to be?

I've got it easier than most Catholics. I think that I am still welcome at communion at my funky, happy, defiant church. It's an unusual place. The pastor there thinks that Jesus welcomes everyone. I think he read that in this book he's always carrying around. At other churches, though, where they listen uncritically to the bishops, even when the bishops are spouting dangerous, cruel, divisive nonsense, I will either have to stay in my pew during communion, or be a liar and and a hypocrite. It is going to be a tough choice. I think Jesus will miss me. I will miss him. Luckily, he always seems to know where to find me. It is really hard to lock up Jesus's body and blood and to keep him away from his followers. I read about that in a book somewhere.