All of us have friends, I hope, and many of us have relatives, who practice other faiths. So the question often arises of how to participate, or choose not to participate, in the rituals of those faiths to which we do not belong, that are dear to those we love.
How do you join in without losing your own spiritual integrity? How do you bow out when your participation has been requested, without hurting someone else’s feelings? And what happens when you want to participate but are told you can not, either by those you love or the leaders of their religious community?
The recent and ongoing dust up, including Pontifications’ post, about Sally Quinn’s taking Catholic communion at Tim Russert’s funeral provides a good opportunity to think about these issues. And while I don’t think there are hard and fast rules about it, there are some guiding principles that may help us navigate through a period of spiritual fluidity that for some is dangerously synchronistic, and for others wonderfully open and inclusive.
Personally, I love the fact that Sally Quinn chose to break with her regular practice, and take communion at Tim Russert’s funeral. I love it because, as she describes it, it was an expression of love and respect for her departed friend on his own terms, not her own terms. That kind of empathy is always powerful, but in the realm of religion, it is sacred. Of course, all that is easy for me to say, because I am not Catholic.
The fact that taking communion worked for her and impresses me does not mean that it might not be upsetting to Catholics who attach a whole range of spiritual and doctrinal meaning to communion that we do not. Ms. Quinn’s apparent tone-deafness to that fact should not be overlooked. But charging her with “narcissism “, as the Catholic League did, is outrageous. Sadly it also typifies the responses of all religious watchdog groups, be they Catholic, Christian, Jewish, Muslim or Hindu. They never miss the opportunity to read a well-intentioned ritual misstep, as purposefully provocative or shamefully disrespectful.

It seems to me that the rub here lies in surfacing a tension within the Catholic community itself, and that Ms. Quinn was an innocent bystander who got caught in the crossfire. As communion was explained to her by Mr. Russert, it was a ritual in which she could participate with integrity, so she did. Even the transubstantiation part worked to the extent that it brought her closer, though admittedly to Tim and not Jesus.
What sparked the anger here was that an individual Catholic, Tim Russert, explained communion his own way – one that does not fit with the doctrinal requirement of some other Catholics. Since they can no longer blame him, they took out their frustrations on her. By participating in the ritual, while acknowledging that she did not fully support its theological underpinnings, Ms. Quinn opened up the complex relationship between a ritual whose purpose is to constitute a particular community and the inevitable variety of motivations and understandings that are brought to that ritual by the individuals who participate in it.
Her situation is not unlike that of non-Jews who practice the occasional Jewish ritual about which they learned from a friend or through the news coverage of Madonna’s latest explorations of Kabbalah. Rather than viewing such people as supporters of the tradition, many Jewish religious and communal leaders accuse them of “cheapening” or “diluting” it. Like those who cast aspersions on Ms. Quinn these people refuse to admit that a shared practice can work for different people and do so in different ways.
So I think if there were one simple rule about participation in the rituals of other faiths, it would be to ask ourselves three simple questions before doing so.
First, does this participation violate my own personal integrity? If it does, then don’t do it! The argument that others will be hurt by your non-participation is inappropriate.
Second, does my participation violate their integrity i.e. if those who regularly practice this ritual knew my beliefs, would my involvement, however well-meaning, make it impossible for them to participate? If my participation does not preclude theirs, then they need to lighten up!
Third, can both sides accept the fact that we don’t always get the answers we want? Sometimes we will not be able to “join in” even if we want to, and that sometimes others will participate even if they do so in ways we don’t like — and that being the case, does not imply bad will on anyone’s part.
For more really interesting perspectives on this issue from lots of smart people who follow many faiths, including those with no faith at all, check out the On Faith column at Newsweek and The Washington Post on line.