No. Catechumens can’t receive Holy Communion.
This isn’t a punishment or a way to keep you at arm’s length. It’s about what Communion actually is and what happens when you become Orthodox. The Eucharist is the Body and Blood of Christ, and receiving it is the fullness of participation in the Church’s life. You enter that fullness through baptism and chrismation first.
Think of it this way. The sacraments of initiation come as a package: baptism, chrismation, and first Communion. In the Orthodox Church, we don’t separate these by years like some traditions do. When you’re received into the Church (usually at a Vesperal Liturgy on Holy Saturday or another feast), you’re baptized, immediately chrismated, and then you receive Communion for the first time. All three happen together because they belong together.
During your time as a catechumen, you’re learning what it means to be Orthodox. You’re attending services, you’re fasting, you’re praying, you’re reading. You’re becoming part of the community. But you haven’t yet been united to Christ through the waters of baptism and sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit in chrismation. Without those, Communion doesn’t make sense. It’s not the entry point into the Church. It’s the sustenance for those already in.
The Dismissal of the Catechumens
If you’ve been to a Divine Liturgy at St. Michael’s, you’ve probably noticed something that happens after the homily. The priest prays a litany for the catechumens, and then he says, “Catechumens, depart. Catechumens, depart. All catechumens, depart. Let none of the catechumens remain.”
In the early Church, this was when catechumens actually left the building. They’d been present for the Liturgy of the Word (the readings, the Gospel, the sermon), but they departed before the Liturgy of the Faithful began. That’s the part where we pray the Anaphora, consecrate the Gifts, and receive Communion. The mysteries were for the baptized.
Most parishes today don’t enforce the dismissal literally. Catechumens usually stay for the whole service. But the words remain as a reminder of what’s happening. There’s a threshold here. The iconostasis separates the nave from the altar, and in a similar way, baptism separates those preparing for the Church from those already in it.
This can feel hard if you’re a catechumen. You’re showing up every Sunday, you’re trying to pray the prayers, you’re learning to make the sign of the cross, and then everyone else goes forward to receive Communion while you stay in your pew. I get it. It feels like being left out.
But here’s the thing. You’re not being excluded from something arbitrary. You’re preparing for something real. When you finally do receive Communion for the first time (right after you come up out of the baptismal font and the bishop or priest anoints you with chrism), it’ll mean everything. You’ll have crossed the threshold. You’ll be home.
The Church has always done it this way. The Synod of Antioch in 341 AD dealt with Christians who were baptized but refused to commune regularly. They faced discipline because Communion is central to Christian life once you’re baptized. But catechumens weren’t mentioned in that context because everyone understood they weren’t yet at that stage. First things first.
If you’re working in the plants on a rotating schedule and you can only make it to Liturgy twice a month right now, that’s okay. Come when you can. Learn what you can. Talk to Fr. Michael. Ask your questions. The time you spend as a catechumen isn’t wasted time. It’s preparation. And when the night comes (probably Holy Saturday if you’re on track for Pascha) when you’re baptized and chrismated and you receive the Holy Mysteries for the first time, you’ll understand why we don’t rush this.
Communion isn’t just a symbol or a memorial meal. It’s Christ himself. We’re being careful with something precious, and we’re making sure you’re ready to receive what’s being offered. When you are, the chalice will be there. And you’ll hear the priest say your new name, and you’ll taste the wine and the bread that aren’t just wine and bread anymore, and you’ll know you’ve come all the way in.
