A Labyrinthine Journey: Soon Coming in 3-D

Over the last couple days it has been my turn to celebrate communion at two of our local care centers. There was a time early in my ministry, I am ashamed to admit, when I would have seen those times as impositions on my time. Yet by grace and through the Holy Spirit’s changing my heart, that attitude has been changed.

I see the time as a simple gift with surprising and mostly unseen fruit.

The time is short, it is not much more than reading scripture, sharing the prayer of institution and the Lord’s prayer and personally sharing the elements with each person who comes. Even when we celebrate communion in larger church worship, I seek to look each person in the eyes as they come up. A look that I fill with all of God’s grace that I can allow to flow through me.

Here my celebrating communion in care centers happens 20 times.

For some reason, today was different.

I was feeling tired and empty today, so the old resentment tried to raise its objection to going, but no-one listened. And when I got there, the elements were prepared, but only 3 residents had gathered. This is about a third to a fourth of the number who usually attends. Besides, the activity director could not be found. But that wasn’t a problem. We just waited for a few more to come. When we had 7 of us, I started the reading from Psalm 130.

“My soul waits for the Lord, more than those who watch for the morning, more than those who watch for the morning.”

Then the prayer of thanksgiving:

“Pour out your Holy Spirit on us gathered here and on these gifts, that in the breaking of this bread and the drinking of this wine we man know the presence of the living Christ.”

Followed by the Lord’s Prayer. While we are praying a couple more residents come to join our small circle, I smile at them to welcome them to the group.

Then sharing the gifts. I have to pay attention now. Will she take the wafer or will she want me to place it in her mouth? Will he be able to hold the small cup of juice or will I need to help him drink?

I partake last, mindful today of my own sense of void and emptiness. I am grateful.

As soon as I prnounce the benediciton, the last woman to arrive jumps up as fast as she could jump with her walker and comes over to me apologizing for being late.

“I’m just glad you made it”

By now she has made it to where I am standing and she grabs hold of my arm and leans up against me and begins to cry. “I am so glad I made it, too. Thank you. Thank you.”

I give her a hug and she moves down the hallway to her room. I then go to each remaining person and shake each hand and smile with each grateful face. Each one echoes the thought, “Thank you so much for coming.”

As I finish gathering my Bible and prayer book, I am thinking how different today feels. One woman hasn’t moved yet. As I stop to talk with her, she says that they have lost quite a few residents in that facility in the last couple weeks. So we talk for a few moments about grief and the seasons and cycles of life and death. She thanks me and begins moving down the hall back to her room.

As I leave, I find myself thinking that in my prayers, I rarely pray for a whole care center. I might pray for individuals and for larger communities, but not for those smaller communities.

And I realize that I am leaving a feast of the body of Christ. It may not have been 5 loaves and 2 fish, but the 8 of us were gathered and Christ’s presence was felt by my heart today.