Tremble

Good Friday finds me in an unexpected place: on my couch reading Take This Bread by Sara Miles accompanied by what is now being called a sinus infection.  Most people I know read this book years ago (the copyright is 2007, the year I graduated from seminary).  I am not certain why I have dawdled.  It is a fine book, and she is an excellent writer. I think, and I know this sounds silly, because we both experienced conversion at the communion table, I just was not ready to read her story.  I needed to make my own way for awhile.  Yes, I know that is a fine way to get lost in the wilderness.  Fortunately,  God has spoken to me more than once through a used paperback edition, and I trust that compass. Today, I am grateful for the company.   

 

A few days ago, I walked up to an older man in a wheelchair, and asked if he wanted communion.  He looked up me, paused,  and then nodded his head. I dipped the wafer and held it to his lips. He tasted it, and then quietly asked, "Is that enough?".  He just did not seem to have the energy to take even a quick dissolving slip of wheat and water.  I placed it in a paper napkin I always keep on hand, and assured him that the bread and cup of eternal life in Christ was his.  He nodded his head again and closed his eyes.  In this same service, Holly, the activity assistant's much beloved dog, decided to sing during the Lord's Prayer.  I looked around to see many of the residents smiling.  I could not think of one reason why we should not smile while saying this prayer. It is so often approached by rote or with great solemnity, but maybe God would appreciate it if we lightened up and celebrated forgiveness and our daily bread with some enthusiasm.  

After her role as cantor came to a close, Holly walked up to me and I assured her that she could always sing with me, much to the relief of the director.  Holly then walked over to the pianist who also paused to chat with her. The residents continued to watch and smile and even laugh. They are familiar with her gentle wily ways.  Eventually, we all began to sing once more.   

     

Blessings to you all this day. Tremble, but do not despair. Attend to your heart.  

 

Miles quotes this passage, calling it one of her favorite psalms.  According to a section of a prayer book I found online, it is from Psalm 4, but I cannot locate the translation that uses these exact words.   Nonetheless, may this ancient call to courage give us strength to not despair in these trembling times, but to lovingly, and even enthusiastically attend as the servants we are called to be.