Eucharist

The word Eucharist woke me at 2:00 a.m. Sunday morning.  I had to get up and find out exactly what the word meant. I discovered that it comes from the Greek work eucharistia which means thanksgiving.  Eucharist is not a word that is heard much in Protestant services, but it is used at Hesed, the Benedictine community I am blessed to pray with. Eucharist is celebrated on Wednesday nights, and I try to join them whenever possible. Regardless of where Communion is celebrated, how it is served, or what words are used, thanksgiving must be at the heart of the practice.  Without gratitude, we cannot be fully in relationship with God.   

   

On Saturday, my first SpiritCare service was held in a community that cares for those suffering from chronic mental illness.  I noticed that several of them were drowsy, which is often a side effect of the strong medications that many of them must take. With the exception of the parakeet who was in full voice (I have sung with several birds over the years!), not many in the room were singing.  Yet, when it came time for Holy Communion, most of them accepted it with gratitude.  

 

While I was praying over the wafers and the cup, and indeed giving thanks to God for gathering us in, I noticed a caregiver help a resident sip some liquid out of a small plastic glass. Whether it was juice or medication or both I do not know, but it seemed very much a moment of Holy Communion: the offering and taking in of that which encourages healing. I suggested that we all should think of Communion anytime we are drinking, eating, or taking medication; it is all an offering that comes from God for God's people. Communion is a communal act, even when it occurs in private.  Through it, we are brought into relationship with all that is mortal and temporary, divine and eternal.   

 

As we were packing up our things after worship, one of the residents asked the pianist how long she has been playing the piano. Mary (not her real name) laughed and said since she was a child. She added,  "You think I would be playing better by now!"  Dawn very seriously replied, "No, you play beautifully." She was quiet for a moment or two and then told us she used to play, but cannot now because she has no sheet music. Mary, who by then was in her full music teacher mode, walked over to her and said, "I will bring you some music. What do you like to play?"  Dawn replied, "Classical." At that point, Mary brought out a copy of the hymn, "This Is My Father's World" and said, "This is not classical, but would you like this for now?"  Dawn replied that she liked that hymn very much and gently accepted the offering. Communion may not give us what we think we want, but rather what we need.     

 

In some ways, taking part in Holy Communion is like a handshake. We agree to accept God's love, but we also agree to accept one another. This is how we live into Christ: with one another.  A friend recently told me, "Sue Ann, you are no longer an only child."  None of us are. Let us give thanks. 

     

   

We are meant to eat of this bread, to sit down at this feast. When we as people live for that bread and cast our lot with it, we create nothing less that the kingdom for which Jesus gave his life. It is all around us, all the time, this beautiful world, just about to happen.   

Nora Gallagher, The Sacred Meal