Communion Calls. Frank Campisi

      Dedication

      To my dad, it is only in your passing that I realize how much I learned from the time we did have together; I wish it was so much longer. I pray every day that your wish is fulfilled in me and that I have made you proud in the life I have lived.

      To my mom, who has always demonstrated what it means to sacrifice for others, especially for your family. You have shown me how to always put others before myself.

      To my girls, Jenna and Christa, you have allowed me to experience unconditional love. I am in awe of the brilliance of the futures ahead of you.

      And last but far from least, my rock, Joann. It is, without question, that you are the only reason any part of my life is what it is. You make me who I am and allow me to function as I feel called. I fall short of loving you, perfectly, as I should every day, but I am hopeful each time for another day of life and for another chance to finally get it right.

      Introduction

      From the Catechism of the Catholic Church:

      I. The Eucharist-Source and Summit of Ecclesial Life:

      1324 The Eucharist is “the source and summit of the Christian life.” “The other sacraments, and indeed all ecclesiastical ministries and works of the apostolate, are bound up with the Eucharist and are oriented toward it. For in the blessed Eucharist is contained the whole spiritual good of the Church, namely Christ himself, our Pasch.” 1325 “The Eucharist is the efficacious sign and sublime cause of that communion in the divine life and that unity of the People of God by which the Church is kept in being. It is the culmination both of God’s action sanctifying the world in Christ and of the worship men offer to Christ and through him to the Father in the Holy Spirit.” 1326 Finally, by the Eucharistic celebration we already unite ourselves with the heavenly liturgy and anticipate eternal life, when God will be all in all.” 1327 In brief, the Eucharist is the sum and summary of our faith: “Our way of thinking is attuned to the Eucharist, and the Eucharist in turn confirms our way of thinking.”

      With these words in mind, being both filled with and prompted by the Holy Spirit, I offer to you, the reader, a glimpse into the interaction that occurs in a Communion Call. I am using this term to mean the taking of the Body of Christ to someone not able to receive within the context of the sacrifice of a Mass. The following are experiences from my ministry as an Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion for the Diocese of Camden, New Jersey. As the number of priests continues to diminish, the needs of the homebound and hospitalized remain constant and in fact, are ever increasing. This creates a ministry vital to any religious organization, but even more so to Catholics who value closeness to the Eucharist as stated in the section of the Catechism above.

      I have personally learned a great deal about Christ, His suffering and faith, through those I have been privileged to serve in this ministry. I am especially grateful for the opportunity to serve Him and His Bride--the Church--by serving others through this ministry. These are a few stories of my Communion Calls. I hope that your reflection upon my experiences can draw you into a deeper relationship with Christ, as it did for me and those that I had the privilege to serve. I hope that with real life examples of the human interaction in the Communion Call, we can also see the Divine interaction also contained therein.

      A Call to Ministry

      In the mid-1990s, I was “trained” as an Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion (EMOC), or Eucharistic Minister (EM), (and I will use the initials interchangeably hereafter) going through a one-day diocesan-run program at a parish in Woodbury Heights, New Jersey. Our training consisted of how to properly present the host to the communicant, by saying “The Body of Christ,” and the chalice of wine, similarly, “The Blood of Christ.” We learned the proper methods of wiping the cup after its use and making a quarter-point turn with the cup after each communicant drank. After completing the training process, I was commissioned or installed, in my home parish of Saint Mary’s in Williamstown, New Jersey, and I served as scheduled or as needed at Mass. At that time, although trained to do so, we seldom distributed the Precious Blood from the Chalice. Distribution is typically by preference of each pastor, and the choice to not distribute is sometimes a decision from the diocese, such as, in a time of an intense influenza outbreak (which is the case regarding the COVID-19 outbreak in 2020, during which this is being written.) I was comfortable in my role as an EM: going up at Communion time during the Mass, receiving, distributing, returning unconsumed hosts to the altar, and returning to my seat in the pews.

      I served the Lord. The job was done. Move on with the rest of the day, the rest of your life.

      Don’t get me wrong; I did not take on the role for any selfish reasons. I didn’t do it for attention. I really felt called to be closer to Christ in the Blessed Sacrament. And yes, I know how stupid that sounds as I write it, because how much closer can one become than consuming the Blessed Sacrament? But I mean closer in the sense of acting upon that calling and actually doing something about it. That longing to “do something more” was about to change with just one phone call. It was an ordinary weeknight, and when the phone rang, a very distinct voice greeted me.

      “Hello?”

      “Frank?”

      “Jackie?”

      “Yes, can I ask you for a favor?”

      “Sure. What do you need?”

      Jackie had the most wonderful British accent. I instantly recognized it. Jackie was a fellow EM, who also was a Lector at Mass. Every Scripture passage she read sounded regal and royal; I recall once saying that I could listen to Jackie read the phone book, and I would still be mesmerized. As she spoke, she informed me that she was planning to take a trip to a famous apparition site at Medjugorje in Bosnia/Herzegovina and would need someone to cover her EM duties for the next two weekends. I quickly agree, figuring I could switch from my regularly scheduled 4:30 PM. Mass on Saturdays, to whatever she had been scheduled to serve. She was appreciative of my help, but then asked me a question that left me speechless. “Do you have a large enough pyx to carry up to ten hosts? If not, you can use mine,” she said. A pyx is a small container that is blessed to carry the Communion from the church to an appointed sick call. Sometimes, for parishioners who are unable to attend the service due to illness, injury, age, or homebound request to receive Communion each week by having a minister bring it to them to pray with and receive. I had not even thought about the concept since the EM training several months prior.

      I must have not responded soon enough, as I was still trying to wrap my mind around why she was even asking this.

      With her regal-sounding accent, she asked, “Are you there?”

      I must have mumbled some response as she went on to explain. After the 9:00 AM Mass on Sunday mornings, she visited the local nursing home and rehab center located down the road from the parish church. Here she distributed Holy Communion