L
lookaround
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after taking communion?
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M
mick321
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What would YOU do?
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C
CatholicZ09
Guest
I would find it ironic, believe it or not. By reading that I just remembered that our CCD teacher was telling us on Sunday that some 2nd grader who was practicing for first communion got sick after eating the body of Christ and she threw up all over her dress. She told us that the girl’s dress needed to be burned because that’s God’s body and you can’t just go home and wash it. You need to burn it. I found that pretty interesting. But, if she was practicing for first communion, wouldn’t the unleavened bread be un-consecrated? I thought it had to be whenever you didn’t receive communion yet. So is it technically not Jesus’ body if it is not consecrated?
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diggerdomer
Guest
The same thing I would when getting sick after not taking communion.after taking communion?
J
jc-servant
Guest
Yes. If it was practice then they used unconsecrated hosts so it was nothing but “bread” not Jesus. Even if the child had thrown up after taking Communion at mass the dress does not automatically need to be burned. It could come clean, especially if it was a washable polyester that does not absorb or stain easily.I would find it ironic, believe it or not. By reading that I just remembered that our CCD teacher was telling us on Sunday that some 2nd grader who was practicing for first communion got sick after eating the body of Christ and she threw up all over her dress. She told us that the girl’s dress needed to be burned because that’s God’s body and you can’t just go home and wash it. You need to burn it. I found that pretty interesting. But, if she was practicing for first communion, wouldn’t the unleavened bread be un-consecrated? I thought it had to be whenever you didn’t receive communion yet. So is it technically not Jesus’ body if it is not consecrated?
You get a large basin or bucket that can be carried outside and fill it with plain water. The item is rinsed and the “dirty” water poured into the earth outside, not down the drain into the sewer system. The process is repeated with rinsing and scrubbing until no visible liquid (if it had been Precious Blood) or solid is left. Do it once more for good measure and then it can be washed with soap and water. This is basically what they do with the vessels and purificators after mass except there is a special sink in the sacristy that is piped directly to the earth rather than draining into the sewer.
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Br.Rich_SFO
Guest
That is absurd either way. The dress should be rinsed in the sacrarium and then the dress washed as usual. But more so since it would during practice be un-consecrated.I would find it ironic, believe it or not. By reading that I just remembered that our CCD teacher was telling us on Sunday that some 2nd grader who was practicing for first communion got sick after eating the body of Christ and she threw up all over her dress. She told us that the girl’s dress needed to be burned because that’s God’s body and you can’t just go home and wash it. You need to burn it. I found that pretty interesting. But, if she was practicing for first communion, wouldn’t the unleavened bread be un-consecrated? I thought it had to be whenever you didn’t receive communion yet. So is it technically not Jesus’ body if it is not consecrated?
P
perfectpeach
Guest
I would probably wonder where on earth the germs came from… since germs are so hard to come by now days. I mean, there are certainly none in my house… none in my car… none at walmart… probably none on the church pews either… hmm…
F
Frosty
Guest
This actually happened to me as a child and I remember it as clearly as if it had occured only yesterday. I made my first Communion in 1953 in Grade 1 and hadn’t yet had my 6th birthday. A few weeks afterwards, I attended the 10:30 High Mass with my grandparents. It was a very hot morning and the midnight fast was still in effect. We understood that to mean also that even a sip of water was forbidden so my mouth was very dry and I felt rather queasy. Immediately after the Host was placed on my tongue, for some reason it got stuck on the roof of my mouth. As I left the altar railing, I tried desperately to remove it with my tongue and began to gag. To my horror, as soon as I reached the front seats where we had been sitting, I had a bout of projectile vomiting. My grandfather immediately grabbed me, picked me up and carried me home to his house. The rest of that day is somewhat of a blur but I do remember spending most of it in bed.
The following morning right after opening prayers at school, the sister who was our principal came into our class and said that she had been informed that a girl in the Grade 1 class had been sick after Communion yesterday and she needed to know who it was. Right away, one of my cousins stuck up her hand and pointed to me! I was told to go with the principal and without knowing at my young age what I had done so wrong that would recquire a summons from the dreaded principal, with great trepidation I went along. Without saying a word to me, she handed me a handkerchief to put on my head and marched me next door to the church and up to the altar rail where we were joined by another sister who was the sacristan and shortly by one of the curates. Then the inquisition began. “Where had I been standing when the vomiting started? How far did I walk while it was going on? What pews might have been hit by it? Did I spray it on any other person? Did it get on my shoes or my clothing? If any had got on my clothing, did it get in contact with my grandfather’s clothing when he picked me up? Did I touch my hands to it?” And many more questions. Not once was there any hint of sympathy or charitableness towards me but rather the suggestion that I had willfully despoiled the Body of Christ. I was terrified.
In the meantime, my grandparents had been called and they arrived at the church to find their granddaughter a quivering mass of tears. The curate told them that they must bring all the clothing that I had been wearing, along with Grandfather’s jacket back to the church as soon as possible. It was explained that I hadn’t got any of the vomit on me, that it was a projectile spewing onto the front of the pew and the floor but it didn’t matter. Prudence dictated that even the tiniest speck must be accounted for and investigated. My grandmother did immediately go back home and get the clothing. Fortunately they lived only a block away! Grandfather was furious that I had been put through such an ordeal. He understood the importance of respecting and preserving the Host and the care that even the smallest particle should not be lost but he did not understand why a small child should have been made to feel [even it is was not intentional] that an involuntary action of hers was a desecration of the Body of Christ. It was his opimion that once it was known who the child was, the adults she had attended Mass with ought to have been contacted and the situation handled accordingly, elsewise the child might be left with a damaging scar that could impair her spiritual life.
Grandfather was right. For years afterwards, although I grew in my knowledge of the Catholic faith and the Sacraments, I was hesitant to receive Communion and often would not. Rationally I knew that it was unlikely that I would vomit everytime I received Communion but the thought was always at the back of my mind and irrationally how utterly unworthy and sinful I would feel if it did happen again. Even today, fifty plus years later, the memory of that time occasionally crosses my mind.
If it did happen again, I would know now that it was not sinful and would trust that the competent authorities would deal with the matter in the appropriate manner.
The following morning right after opening prayers at school, the sister who was our principal came into our class and said that she had been informed that a girl in the Grade 1 class had been sick after Communion yesterday and she needed to know who it was. Right away, one of my cousins stuck up her hand and pointed to me! I was told to go with the principal and without knowing at my young age what I had done so wrong that would recquire a summons from the dreaded principal, with great trepidation I went along. Without saying a word to me, she handed me a handkerchief to put on my head and marched me next door to the church and up to the altar rail where we were joined by another sister who was the sacristan and shortly by one of the curates. Then the inquisition began. “Where had I been standing when the vomiting started? How far did I walk while it was going on? What pews might have been hit by it? Did I spray it on any other person? Did it get on my shoes or my clothing? If any had got on my clothing, did it get in contact with my grandfather’s clothing when he picked me up? Did I touch my hands to it?” And many more questions. Not once was there any hint of sympathy or charitableness towards me but rather the suggestion that I had willfully despoiled the Body of Christ. I was terrified.
In the meantime, my grandparents had been called and they arrived at the church to find their granddaughter a quivering mass of tears. The curate told them that they must bring all the clothing that I had been wearing, along with Grandfather’s jacket back to the church as soon as possible. It was explained that I hadn’t got any of the vomit on me, that it was a projectile spewing onto the front of the pew and the floor but it didn’t matter. Prudence dictated that even the tiniest speck must be accounted for and investigated. My grandmother did immediately go back home and get the clothing. Fortunately they lived only a block away! Grandfather was furious that I had been put through such an ordeal. He understood the importance of respecting and preserving the Host and the care that even the smallest particle should not be lost but he did not understand why a small child should have been made to feel [even it is was not intentional] that an involuntary action of hers was a desecration of the Body of Christ. It was his opimion that once it was known who the child was, the adults she had attended Mass with ought to have been contacted and the situation handled accordingly, elsewise the child might be left with a damaging scar that could impair her spiritual life.
Grandfather was right. For years afterwards, although I grew in my knowledge of the Catholic faith and the Sacraments, I was hesitant to receive Communion and often would not. Rationally I knew that it was unlikely that I would vomit everytime I received Communion but the thought was always at the back of my mind and irrationally how utterly unworthy and sinful I would feel if it did happen again. Even today, fifty plus years later, the memory of that time occasionally crosses my mind.
If it did happen again, I would know now that it was not sinful and would trust that the competent authorities would deal with the matter in the appropriate manner.
D
daeve
Guest
Frosty, my dear girl, I’m so sorry that’s stayed in your mind all these years and made you hesitate to receive Communion. The midnight fast ended just before I made my First Communion, but in kindergarten I can remember the water fountains being wrapped with burlap bags in the morning before Mass. We didn’t go to Mass, and it was changed before I was in first grade.
What I remember is that when someone threw up after Communion, George the janitor would put some cones around the area and after Mass one of the priests would go take care of it. The only thing I threw up on was my prayer book and I got all kinds of grief about that.
What I remember is that when someone threw up after Communion, George the janitor would put some cones around the area and after Mass one of the priests would go take care of it. The only thing I threw up on was my prayer book and I got all kinds of grief about that.
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