(Original Post on Corner Booth Musing's Website, 4/22/15)
In the United Methodist Church, it is often a common practice for Communion (or The Lord’s Supper or Eucharist) to occur on the first Sunday of every month. Anything more than that and people begin to get nervous, question the “specialty” of partaking in Communion more than 12 times a year (plus special occasions, of course!), and complain about worship going a little bit longer than their one-hour-a-Sunday-morning allotment. Despite the fact that John Wesley, the father of Methodism, took Communion regularly and stated that one should take Communion as often as they can, most hold true to the hard tradition of once-a-month Communion.
As graduation with my Master of Divinity is on the horizon, Duke Divinity has taught me much about the meaning of Communion and all of its implications. We, as seminary students, get SUPER excited when The Lord’s Supper is made available to us, and I think most would uphold the belief that it is definitely a holy mystery. While I will not get into a theological debate about what may, or may not, happen during Communion, I do want to say a few things about how it has shaped, changed, and challenged my call to ministry.
For me, central to my call to ministry are the sacraments. Mostly because they are visible reminders of God’s grace to this messed up and sinful world.
The church I am currently serving is a small, rural church in Durham, North Carolina. While they are a wonderful congregation, they too have their wolves in sheep’s clothing and their conflicts. As a pastor, or associate pastor (of which is my title), you learn things about people that shock you, that send you into disarray, and that challenge the very faith you prepare sermons about on a weekly basis. Being called to pastor is a huge blessing and brings so much joy to my life, but I’ll be honest and say that it can also be draining, leaving one with very little hope. In fact, some days the only hope that I am able to hold onto is knowing that God has already won; that love has already won.
Despite the fact that I am continually amazed by God’s grace and work in my life; despite the fact that I am affirmed on a daily basis of the call that God has placed in my life; despite the fact that there is so much good in the world; despite the fact that this is, in my opinion, the best vocation anyone could never ask for…I still question this life regularly. I question my call, my ability, my endurance, my intelligence, my body as a woman, my own grace, my own patience…I have, at some point or another, questioned everything part of my being in relation to my call to be a pastor.
I am thankful that the church I currently serve has been partaking in Communion on a weekly basis since Advent. I am thankful for this for many reasons: God’s love isn’t something that is given to us once a month; the grace of God isn’t something we dictate or control; and, that the grace of God is a gift to us, continually calling us into relationship with the Triune God. Lately, when I have doubted my call it has been this sacrament that has reminded me, and affirmed in me, the very place that God is calling me to be.
The table is a place that commonly brings people together, despite our differences. We share in meals with those we love the most on a regular basis. The very act of eating, this basic necessity to the human body, is itself sacramental. But God calls us to a different table; a table that truly breaks down all barriers, that unites us in our differences, and that brings us together as a people. A table that is open for ALL who come seeking forgiveness and peace (see The United Methodist Hymnal, page 12).
When I serve Communion to the people of my congregation, it forces me to forgive their sins, and to seek forgiveness too. For the last month, I have been drawn to tears as I serve both sinners and saints, because I am called to love all. Communion forces me to see people as they truly are–as broken children of God, as people who need Christ to be mended, and all as equally loved by the One who created them. As I watch people come forward, together, receiving a piece of the fleshy Bread of Life and dipping it into the bloody Cup of Salvation, I am reminded that we are all sinners and that we are all sought out by, loved by, and redeemed by God. As I utter the words, “the blood of Christ shed for you,” I am constantly reminded of the pain and torture that Christ endured so that we might be forgiven and I wonder to myself, would I be willing to do the same? As I look into the eyes of people who are seeking the forgiveness of sins they both know and do not yet know. “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34, KJV).
While I do not know what happens when someone takes a piece of the red stained fleshy bread past their lips, I do know that we are left changed somehow. Both those who partake and those who witness such a means of God’s grace. For me, I am not only reminded of God’s grace but of the grace that God calls me to have, for both myself and for others. I am reminded that Christ’s sacrifice on the cross was not in vain, but is a reality and a truth that we must live into every day. This act challenges me to extend forgiveness to those who I know have cheated on their spouse of 20+ years, to those who have sexually abused a child, to those who seek control of God’s church and try to claim it as their own, to those who turn to alcohol for comfort, to those who use anger to express their love, and to those who value money and namesake over their neighbor. This holy meal forces me to extend acts of love to people I don’t even like.
Communion brings together a variety of bodies at a common table that has more than enough grace for the sinners who partake. Communion reminds me that God’s purpose and grace is far beyond anything I could muster up. Communion reminds me that God is God, and I simply am not. For all of that, I am thankful.
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