On Sunday morning I sanctify Jeffrey’s pancakes. I speak the invitation and the words of institution over the puddles of syrup on his plate. He chews slow and looks at me out of the corner of his eye.
I am practicing—for in a couple hours I’ll be presiding over my first ever Communion Table all by myself. It’s a gift my pastors have given me and it feels strange to let these sacred words make my tongue holy—to make this kitchen and this table and every moment I breathe…holy.
I am all shaky inside but I am happy too.
The night before, I read through the entire section in the Book of Common Worship on The Eucharist. I googled up different ways to say it all and felt my heart pulse wonder and gratitude at this great mystery. In the end I returned to the Book of Common Worship. There is a reason it is the standard.
I wrote my own script out by hand, combining different pieces of all I read and this is what I speak over Jeffrey’s pancakes. And I speak the words a couple hours later, to my brothers and sisters that I worship with every Sunday. These people who have been Jesus to me—the ones who give him hands and skin.
It makes me breathless and I want to take off my shoes—right there in front of the Table—take off my shoes and dance down the aisle. It wouldn’t matter if I stumbled over a few words then, would it? I say this, “Friends, this is the joyful feast of the people of God…”
Shouldn’t we? Dance?
“It is the resurrected, living Christ we encounter in the bread and the wine…”
Is this not cause to rejoice?
Afterwards, we have Sunday school and go on home and I fall asleep on the couch—just like I hadn’t just shared a feast with Jesus. Just like this is normal…to share a table with the risen Lord…is this normal?
Later we meet back up at the church and we frock her in green and light. It’s a small crowd but love flows thick down these halls and I–I know what Communion really means.
These words echo in my heart as we trim the tree: Being made one with Christ, we are made one with all who belong to Christ, united with the church in every time and place…(Book of Common Worship, page 42).
Communion. Every moment…holy. Every moment, a feast.
How do you embrace the God-joy? Every Monday I’ll be sharing one of my Playdates with God. I would love to hear about yours. It can be anything: outside, quiet time. Maybe it’s solitary. Maybe it’s loud and crowded. Just find Him. Be with Him. Grab my button at the bottom of the page and join us: