Modern Day Whys of 1st Holy Communion

Reflections on an a la carte Catholic approach to 1st Holy Communion and why marking such a milestone is important to me for my family. Spirituality, community, stress... it has it all.

I felt the need to gather my thoughts recently after a friend said to me “they should really get rid of that” - referring to first holy communion. She was saying this in solidarity with me, responding to my story of woe as I relayed to her the workload and stresses that came with the day. I found what she said to be helpful in so many ways as I immediately felt it was important to clarify a few things - that the communion day, especially for mothers, is work and a fuss, yes, but also that most who undertake it do so because they actually want their child make their first holy communion (for a range of reasons) and, sure, isn’t everything worth doing a bit of a faff? And also, would anyone say this if I were talking about a ceremony of a different religion? It can feel like it’s assumed that most people who are involved in an Irish first holy communion scenario do so somewhat mindlessly and without conscious thought. However, while the range of reasons to be involved in the ceremony vary vastly from family to family (a party, a religious experience, a right of passage for their child, tradition etc. - and is there truly any ‘correct’ reason?) many parents undertake it with - wait for it - their child in mind.

Some years back I had a senior infant who was to play Mary in her school’s Christmas nativity. She was intent on wearing a bright orange summer dress which her aunt had given her as a gift and she, obviously, felt it the most appropriate thing to wear on such an auspicious occasion as playing Our Lady. Years previous to this I had bought a really great second-hand book of Children’s Bible Stories which is a million miles away from any of the the other, more modern kids’ books we have on our shelves. Printed some time in the 1970s, it has dramatic depictions of war, severed heads, a sea parted down the middle, a dead man draped across his mother’s lap all set against a backdrop of flowing hair and robes with a dash of far-away-desert-mystique. It is very similar to a book we had at home when I was small, one which I would read over and over - David & Goliath, Mary Goes To Meet Elizabeth, King Solomon, Judas Betrays Jesus. The stories were full-on epic. There was no sugar coating. And as a child, I loved the drama and gore and realness of it all.

So when it came to showing the senior infant why a long blue dress might be more suitable than a loud orange one when portraying the mother of God, I took out the book and flicked through it until I found a picture of Mary, with Mary of Magdelene, as they stood outside Jesus’ tomb after the stone had been rolled to the side and they were proclaiming ‘he is risen’. Studying the attire of the ladies, my gang became interested in what was going on in the story, which I explained to them. Mulling over the thought of Jesus rising from the dead, my second classer, sharing glances and smiles with his sister, said; “Yeah, but that’s just a story”. And I looked at them and I looked at the picture and I said; “Yes, it is a story. Some people really believe it. I just believe that Jesus was a good person and we learn about his life because he set a good example and it’s interesting to learn about him”.

It felt like a bit of a milestone. That had been an opportunity for me to say that I believed that had truly happened. When really, I don’t know. Because my experience of being a Catholic has meant an early and steady indoctrination into the faith I choose to keep an open mind around the story of Christ. But at it’s core, my personal faith has meandered from the confines of catholicism, having found a broader, more spiritual place from which I can view all the positive sides of having been raised a Catholic without feeling tied to the faith in the dogged, diligent and devoted way of the generation before mine.

Believe me, the life of an a la carte Catholic is a wholly satisfying one. I don’t go to mass much, but when I do, the words and music and ceremony bring me right back to the certainty, quiet and sanctity of the faith as I experienced it as a child. When we were getting married, I wanted to do so in my local church. I believed, deeply, that the ceremony would bring us a very special blessing. But on a broader level, the church, my local church, felt like the rightful place, given that so many of my family’s most important life-markers had been celebrated there (from christenings to funerals) and also, my great grandfather had drawn stone to the site when the church was being built. I have a massive sense of ownership and entitlement when it comes to Carrigtwohill church - and, given I spent all of my schooling up to the age of 17 under the guidance of nuns - and a sense of authority in forging my own faith path too.

And so with my own children, occasions like christenings and first holy communions and, perhaps, confirmations (if they choose - I’m not so sure the third will be into the Communion thing either, but time will tell), serve as markers in their life path. They are a chance for them to receive all the blessings I received when I was a child. Maybe they’ll see it as little more than a party, a chance to be the centre of attention and to make a few bob. Or, maybe they’ll see it as a chance to discover their own faith path (although, as we don’t attend mass regularly and the religious instruction they are receiving is very, very different and less intense to what I experienced, this might be a stretch) but I really, really loved having a spiritual undercurrent throughout my young life. I often wish I was more dedicated to nurturing a sense of spirituality within my children, but I’m a lazy sod in so many ways. I suppose, this gives them at least some chance of developing their spiritual sides. If they’d like. I am so glad to be an Arts graduate because yes, science is fantastic (I see those of you who are rolling your eyes, lol), but I do find all the reliability a bit yawn. Life is so serious, we shouldn’t forget about the woo woo! As my mother once said to me, nature, the world, is a total miracle - who are we to think we, reliably, know everything?

What struck me most on my daughter’s special day was the community aspect - and this has always been what I’ve connected with my religious experience. On her first holy communion day, so many turned out to sing with her and wish her well and give her a card and make sure there were buns and a cuppa for everyone afterwards so we could chat in the sunshine and share the experience of seeing another bunch of kids reaching this religious, yes, but also cultural milestone. Many modern milestones happen to be marked within a religious structure (something which I do think we’ll eventually evolve from) but that’s because it works on so many levels - from a ceremonial, traditional and spiritual basis, it’s hard to beat.

I also get that this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.

Undoubtedly - unless you have the disposition of Buddha himself - the day itself brings alot of work and stress to most households. It’s the cocktail of all the prep, the outfits, getting everyone out the door, on time, clean, being sociable and feeding guests in some way - loaded up with a fair share of emotion. “The communion is a ticking time bomb” somebody said to me after the event, when I felt somewhat in recovery; “The day comes and it’s kaboom!”. Yes - and - However! Just because something is a bit of a pain it the arse to pull off does not mean it should not be undertaken or that it is not wholly worth it. Alot of things that parents do are bloody hard, but alot of the hard stuff will be ‘worth it’ if it’s done with the child in focus. Does anything make us happier than our children’s happiness?

Above everything else, the ceremony was beautiful because it was all about love and kindness. It was a celebration of the children themselves and a reminder that they are part of a community and faith which is there to support them throughout their lives.

During the ceremony, the five for 1st Communion sang the following psalm;

“My shepherd is the Lord, he tends all my needs. By quiet streams he plants a dream of peace and love for me. He shepherds me.”

I hope they each take that message away, and carry it in their hearts, always.

Whatever you do believe or don’t believe, may everyone have the opportunity to find peace and to know we are each loved, just as we are, X