Re: “In a congregational model, there’s little public benefit lost if a private group of like-minded believers cannot gather; it’s an inconvenience, but upsets nothing essential. But, for those parishes whose spiritual, charitable, and practical arms are extended daily to the general public and particularly focused on those vulnerable demographics within the mission field of the parish, the church being closed — really absent — when the exploitative consumeristic marketplace is open is an abandonment of the cure of souls, at least in any historic Anglican sense.” While agreeing with you, sir about the parishes with spiritual, charitable, and practical arms being extended to the general public, may I suggest that this has nothing, absolutely, nothing to do with a congregational model, a Presbyterian model (not mentioned), an episcopal model. If these marks of an active parish are missing, there is a lot more wrong than a matter of when, where, and how to serve Eucharist.

That statement is well and good if we assume all the issues on the table are inward-focused for those already numbered among the Faithful. And, to be fair, many parishes live that way; with the sacramental family meal of the Eucharist as the familiar featured special on the menu.

But the question of being “open” (though perhaps not resuming eucharist in familiar ways) is much bigger in those places which continue or which are seeking to restore the historic understanding of “parishes” as mission territories — villages, towns, and neighbourhoods claimed in the name of God and for whom the incumbent, with the support of the wardens, vestry, and congregation, is the appointed minister of God responsible for all in their cure, regardless of church membership, and perhaps especially for those who don’t realize they need the Church.

In a congregational model, there’s little public benefit lost if a private group of like-minded believers cannot gather; it’s an inconvenience, but upsets nothing essential. But, for those parishes whose spiritual, charitable, and practical arms are extended daily to the general public and particularly focused on those vulnerable demographics within the mission field of the parish, the church being closed — really absent — when the exploitative consumeristic marketplace is open is an abandonment of the cure of souls, at least in any historic Anglican sense.

As the author suggests, I agree that the average person in the average pew actually stands to learn and grow from the experience of losing the familiar Eucharistic rhythms and learning to experience what God provides, as manna in the wilderness. And, certainly, offering communion only to the healthy — or any other division — is far from how communion ought to be.

But, unless churches are nothing more than Eucharistic venues for those who already consider themselves members, there are much larger questions to consider. The “consumer practices of society” need the counter-balance of Gospel truth and merciful hands ministering to those who are most susceptible to false information, exploitation, addiction, despair, and violence. Or, as I’ve posted around town and on the church doors: the buildings may be closed, but the church is open.

Worship may have moved online, but pastoral care, counselling, food security programs, delivery of narcotics for those on daily dispensing orders, daily check-ins for those on suicide or addictions-related safety plans, low-income tax preparation and benefits-application services, home-delivery Sunday School lessons and crafts, delivery of reading materials to elders, delivery of puzzles and groceries to those in isolation, and even the notary public/commissioner of oaths services this parish offers to this remote Northern community — all in the name of Jesus — have ramped up rather than cut back during this pandemic, all undergirded by a parish learning to pray the daily office and continuing in the study of scripture via Zoom.

The faithful will survive the inconvenience of Eucharistic restrictions, and even benefit from learning God’s grace in spiritual communion. BUT, there are many more vulnerable persons to think about beyond the older persons in the pews for Eucharist… and they, too, are the responsibility of the parish and those with the cure of souls, at least in any historic Anglican sense.

If a return to “normal” Eucharistic worship needs to wait until Phase 3, we’re in the same position as any sit-down family restaurant. Yes, we long for things to be as they ought to be — a family gathered around the table. But, in the meantime, instead of closing the doors, we have the opportunity to reevaluate and re-jig the menu, and may just re-learn that there’s more to taste and see than the familiar weekly special.

Eucharist is mandated by Christ (” given for you…in remembrance of me”). Remarkably, in referencing I Cor. Brittain passes over St. Paul’s account of handing over the tradition, ” Every time you eat this bread and drink this cup you proclaim the death of the Lord, until he comes.” ( 23-26, REB). Biblical scholar Joachim Jeremias long ago noted the importance of remembrance before God of Jesus’ work ( Eucharistic Words of Jesus) . Ecumenically, The Roman Catholic Church notes the importance of priests celebrating the Eucharist even if there are only a few others of the faithful present (VII: Presbyterorum Ordinis III, 13). The Canadian BCP in the prohibitive rubric on page 67 tacitly recognizes the meaningfulness of a Eucharist with only one person present to communicate.

Brittain is certainly insightful in helping the reader discern community issues around the resumption of public worship during lockdown–even if his reference to St. Paul and congregational class differences is not the best analogy. We must be responsible and exemplary as an institution entrusted with bearing the gospel. However, there are further questions about what constitutes optimal community. Local churches (the article is very urban cognizant) have the capability of doing that in consultation with public health. I have been cheered knowing that faithful priests continue to celebrate under lockdown on our behalf. My age cohort puts me in a Covid risk category. Notwithstanding, when public eucharist resumes, under whatever circumstances, I will be cheered knowing that a representative community is gathering to proclaim Christ’s death until he comes to establish perfect community.