Friends

"I would like to take communion."   

My heart sank. I had just given him a blessing and was hoping that would be enough. I looked at the activity assistant, and again, she shook her head no. That always poses a dilemma for me. I want to give communion to all who yearn to take it, but some cannot physically take even a simple wafer dipped in water.  In the case of this resident, I have witnessed him becoming so belligerent and loud that the staff have removed him from the room. That also causes me unease. I want to make certain that all who want to attend can do so, but part of my responsibility is to make certain that a safe and worshipful space is held for everyone.  

 

I breathed and replied, "I am sorry, but the staff tells me you may have a swallowing issue. "  

 

I felt his frustration rise. His body jerked. "They do not take care of me.  They do not know me."  

 

"Do you believe they do the best they can?"  We talk about this a lot in this community that gives shelter to the chronically mentally ill - that God calls us to simply do the best we can and that God loves us just as we are. The worship team and I have have experienced some deep, affectionate relationships here so this schism with this resident had been troubling me, more than I had realized.    

  

He looked at me intently and then quietly said, "Yes, I think they are."  I nodded and replied that I had to heed the requests of the staff.  

 

"No, you answer only to Christ."  

 

"And to the body of Christ right here in this room. If I go against the wishes of the staff, then very likely we will not be able to return."   It was then that I looked into his eyes and was surprised by the depth I saw. I also realized that I did not know his name.  

 

"My name is Sue Ann.  What is yours?"  I learned his name is Bill.   

 

"Bill, you do not need a wafer. You have been in communion with God since before you were born.  God's love is within you. That is your sacred gift, and no one can take that away from you."     

 

His eyes welled. "I have been divorced twice.  Tell that to my wives."  

 

"Bill, we are all learning to love. We all make mistakes. We are in this together." I then blessed him again as the Beloved Child of God that he is.  

 

 I became aware of the room once more.    

  

Earlier this week I came across a sentence that read something like, "Whenever you invite Jesus in, he insists on bringing his friends." I remembered that as Bill and I waved good-bye to one another, with the promise we would see each other next month.

 After all, that is what friends do.