Q. When on vacation recently we went to a church that still had and used a Communion rail. Are Communion rails coming back?
A. For those who may be unfamiliar, many churches in the past had a low railing at the base of the steps to the sanctuary with an opening in the middle, whereby the priest and others assisting at Mass would enter.
During the Communion Rite, rather than coming up in a line, the faithful would come forward, find a place to kneel (or stand, if unable to kneel) along the Communion rail and the priest would distribute Communion typewriter-style (left to right and back again). This is still, typically, how Communion is administered in the pre-conciliar liturgy (“Traditional Latin Mass”) and in places where the Communion rail is still in use.
I suppose there may be some advantages to this. It might be slightly more efficient. Then again, efficiency is not exactly a liturgical virtue, at least not at the expense of reverence. Another advantage may be that only those who feel properly disposed to receive Communion would come forward. As it is done now, everyone feels pushed out of the pew in a kind of conga line and may even feel pressured to receive Communion, regardless of their circumstances. In general, perhaps an argument could be made for how the Communion rail facilitates a deeper sense of reverence for the Eucharist.
Of course, there are disadvantages as well. For one, it would not seem to allow for the distribution of the Precious Blood. People who tend to like Communion rails would probably say, “Exactly! What’s the problem?” But, as I have covered in a previous column, the offering of both species (the body and blood) of Christ is a value, at least in the conciliar liturgy.
Another disadvantage: the Communion rail may also take away from the sense of the Communion procession, the idea of the Church on pilgrimage in this communal act of receiving the Eucharist. It is not a “me and my Jesus” moment.
For some, the Communion rail is not only a physical barrier but a psychological and spiritual one as well. Again, one person’s disadvantage is another person’s advantage. Those who prefer Communion rails might say, “Amen! The sanctuary should be set apart as a sacred space.” Others would see it more as a wall to Communion than a gate. As with so many things, there are competing values and, therefore, competing preferences.
In some places, Communion rails never went away. Depending on the age and architecture of the church, it might not be uncommon to see them still. Though, in the years following Vatican II many places had them removed, often reincorporating the stone or wood elsewhere in the Church. Recently, I have heard of some churches putting them back in. My rule of thumb is not to fight with a building and try to make it something it was not intended to be, so I would probably neither remove nor put in a Communion rail.
A hybrid option that has popped up is setting out kneelers in the main aisle for those who wish to receive kneeling. My experience is that that those who wish to receive Communion kneeling will do so no matter what. To my mind, the placing of kneelers is a bit cumbersome if not an actual tripping hazard.
At the very least, we should be careful about “magical thinking” that says, “If we only put back (or removed) Communion rails, all the Church’s problems would be solved.” If only it were so simple.
(Father Thom Hennen serves as the pastor of Sacred Heart Cathedral in Davenport and vicar general for the Diocese of Davenport. Send questions to messenger@davenportdiocese.org)








I agree with much of what was said but with these exceptions:
1. I think people kneeling without support (and potentially in an unexpected spot) is much more likely a trip hazard than a prie dieu (and a prie dieu is charitable to those who desire to kneel but need help). People kneeling or standing at rails or prie dieu also let the priest adjust distance without risk of collision.
2. I’ve walked 900 miles on pilgrimage, carrying all my things. Other pilgrims walked different lengths. Or rode horses or bikes. Or took cars or busses. Some sent bags ahead. Some had a donkey to carry the bag. At the end of each day we all ate dinner at the same table, and all rejoiced in reaching SdC no matter the approach. So the “on pilgrimage” explanation sounds like the speaker has never actually been on one. This “on pilgrimage” part just rings hollow to me.
3. Personally I think the feeling at a rail, shoulder to shoulder with family and friends waiting together in anticipation, feels more like a communal meal than lining up where *one by one* we receive like some version of window in a bus terminal. But that may just be me.
I appreciate the article, and respect the viewpoint. I just feel the church today gives us reasons that don’t always make sense.