After having given up hope of receiving the Sacrament until I got back home, I finally received this morning.
I found a place* that is very orthodox and independent enough of Canterbury that I could conscientiously receive. It might be going too far to say their communion with Canterbury is impaired, but it definitely would not go too far to say that it’s not 100%. And that’s good enough for me.
So, though it was dawn on a Monday morning, I walked with a spring in my step to go and take my first communion in almost exactly a month (in spite of going to services just about every day).
Though very solemn, this Mass wasn’t tinged with sadness for me like other Eucharists I’ve attended in the past month. There wasn’t that sense that I was missing out, that I was only a partial participant. A number of the prayers of the Mass are such that they remind you that you are not receiving if that is the case. And I’ve felt that loss each of the few times I’ve attended a Eucharist in the past month.
But not this morning.
After I received and sat down, I felt a deep peace, like a sense of relief. And after the Mass ended I had to pause to regain my composure before going to breakfast.
*(I think it best I not identify the place. The nature of their relationship with Canterbury was given in a confidential conversation. So I think it best to be extra safe for their sake and keep it confidential.)