We don’t allow non-Orthodox Christians to receive Communion because the Eucharist isn’t just a symbol of unity, it’s the expression of an already-existing unity in faith, life, and worship. You can’t use Communion to create unity where real differences still remain.
I know that sounds harsh, especially if you’re visiting from First Baptist or St. Anne’s and you’re used to open communion tables. Your Baptist friends might invite anyone who loves Jesus to the table. Catholics require you to be Catholic but might make exceptions. We don’t, and here’s why.
Communion Is What We Say It Is
When we say the bread and wine become the actual Body and Blood of Christ, we mean it. Not a symbol. Not a memorial. Not a spiritual presence alongside the elements. The thing itself.
That’s why St. Paul warns in 1 Corinthians 11 that receiving unworthily brings judgment. He’s not being dramatic. If this is truly Christ’s Body and Blood, then approaching it casually or without proper preparation is spiritually dangerous. We fast before Communion. We go to Confession. We reconcile with people we’ve wronged. And even then, we approach with fear and trembling.
Letting someone receive who doesn’t believe what we believe about the Eucharist would be like handing them something we think could harm them. That’s not hospitality, that’s recklessness.
The Order Matters
In the early Church, you couldn’t just walk up and receive Communion. You were baptized, then chrismated (what Catholics call Confirmation), then communed. That order isn’t arbitrary.
Baptism joins you to Christ’s death and resurrection. Chrismation seals you with the gift of the Holy Spirit. Communion completes your initiation into the Church and sustains you in that life. They’re not separate transactions, they’re one continuous movement into the Body of Christ.
When someone hasn’t been baptized and chrismated in the Orthodox Church, they haven’t yet entered into the fullness of what Communion expresses. We’re not saying their baptism elsewhere was meaningless or that God hasn’t worked in their life. We’re saying that full sacramental participation requires full sacramental initiation in the Church where those sacraments are received.
Unity Isn’t Just Feeling Close to Jesus
If you grew up Protestant, you might think of church membership as pretty loose. You believe in Jesus, you’re part of the universal Church, and denominational differences are just preferences about worship style or secondary doctrines.
We don’t see it that way. The Church isn’t invisible. It’s visible, with bishops and boundaries and a shared faith handed down from the Apostles. When we commune together, we’re saying we believe the same things about God, salvation, the sacraments, and how we’re supposed to live. We’re under the same bishops. We confess the same Creed without additions or subtractions.
Communion is the ultimate expression of that unity. It’s not a tool for creating unity between divided Christians, it’s the sign that unity already exists. Fr. John Breck at the OCA puts it plainly: we practice closed communion not because we think we’re better than other Christians, but because we take seriously what Communion means.
This Isn’t About Judging Your Faith
I’ve seen visitors get hurt by this, and I understand why. You love Jesus. You’ve been communing at your church for years. You come to our Liturgy and it’s beautiful and you want to participate fully, and then we tell you no.
It feels like rejection. But it’s not about whether you’re a real Christian or whether God loves you. It’s about what Communion is and what it expresses. We’re not the Eucharist police checking tickets. We’re trying to be faithful to what the Church has always taught and practiced.
When St. Ignatius of Antioch wrote to the early churches in the second century, he was already talking about the Eucharist as something guarded and specific to those in communion with the bishop. This isn’t some innovation or power play. It’s how Christians have understood the Eucharist from the beginning.
What This Means for You
If you’re inquiring about Orthodoxy, this is actually an invitation. We’re not saying you can never commune with us. We’re saying there’s a path: learn the faith, be baptized and chrismated, and then come to the table. Catechumens at St. Michael often say that waiting makes receiving Communion for the first time incredibly powerful. You’ll have prepared. You’ll know what you’re receiving and why.
If you’re visiting and plan to stay in your own tradition, we still want you at Liturgy. You can receive the blessed bread (antidoron) at the end, which isn’t Communion but is a sign of fellowship. You can pray with us, hear the Scriptures, learn from the homily. Just not the Chalice. Not yet, or maybe not ever if you’re called elsewhere. And that’s okay.
The Eucharist is the heart of who we are. Guarding it isn’t about keeping people out, it’s about honoring what Christ gave us and protecting both the sacrament and the people who might approach it unprepared. We’d rather you be frustrated now than harmed spiritually. That’s not coldness. It’s love, even when it doesn’t feel like it.
