A Holy Mess

Church can be a holy mess.

Especially a church like ours – filled with people from every possible theological background. Including those with absolutely no theological background.

I have to say that we work really hard. We explore our common ground. We listen politely to each other, and we attempt to practice a gentle touch with our theology, or lack thereof.

Early on we adopted as one of our cardinal rules, that we would celebrate those things we have in common and allow the differences that we have to be respectfully honored.

It almost came to a screeching wreck last night. And all because of a little floating bread.

We celebrate Communion whenever it fits the theme of the service and makes sense as the concluding act of the sermon. Communion is one of those church events that has divided Christianity from the beginning. There are almost as many understandings of it as there are denominations. (If you need further proof of this go to www.wikipedia.com and type in communion! While you’re at it, look up the rest of the theological differences that I’m about to reference!)

Last night I asked Bob, who is a Catholic transubstantiationist, to help me serve Communion. (Transubstantiation holds that the bread and wine of communion literally becomes the body and blood of Christ.) He had the cup of grape juice and I had the bread. At our church we observe Communion by intinction – you take a piece of bread and dip it into the cup before eating.

As part of my stay in the United Methodist Church I was taught about the Eucharistic understanding of the Real Presence – that Jesus really (and not merely symbolically, figuratively or by his power) is present in what was previously just bread and wine.

I’m also recovered Baptist memorialist – they believe that the bread and the wine are just memories of Jesus.

We also have a few consubstantiationists but all of these distinctions are clearly outnumbered by a whole bunch of good people who are TRULY blessed not to be dragging around all this theological baggage!

So here we are last night, Catholic Bob and Baptist/Methodist Tanya – serving Holy Communion together. (The Pope and my Southern Baptist preacher father should be having palpitations right now!)

I’m looking each person clearly in the eye, speaking their name, handing them bread and reminding them that “this is the body of Christ, broken for you.” Bob is holding the cup, continuing the blessing with the words “and this is the blood of Christ, shed for you.”

Then the train began to shudder, shimmy and screech to a momentary halt.

We practice open communion – everyone is welcome to the table. That includes kids who want to receive a little bit of God’s love too. Bob and I looked down at a little girl neither of us knew. She’d only been to church a couple of times, but always looks happy to be there. I broke off a little bit of bread and handed it to her telling her that it was Jesus’ gift of love for her. She smiled. Bob bent down and offered her the cup and told her that God loved her a lot. She smiled, perhaps believing him. Then she looked at him with questions in her brown eyes and hesitated just a second before tossing her bit of bread into the outstretched cup.

The adult who was behind her in line gasped. I looked at Bob – and immediately understood that Bob was contemplating the fact that JESUS WAS FLOATING IN THE GRAPE JUICE AND NOW WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?? I looked at the little girl and she was about to burst into tears. And everyone was looking at me, waiting for instructions on what the hell we’re going to do now!!!

We left Jesus’ body floating in his blood.

I tore off another piece of bread and called the little girl back. We told her to dip it into the cup and pop it into her mouth.

She smiled. I smiled. Bob breathed again and the train righted itself for one more week.

One of my greatest prayers for our little church is that we can be a place where we never feel a need to change or convert each other. I'm not saying that change or conversion isn't good – I just think we have to practice it gently.

Above all, I want to be a church where honest, happy little girls feel comfortable making mistakes and learning – right along with the rest of us.