Eternal Communion

Last Sunday was my last Sunday to administer the sacraments at West End.  I love the liturgy, so rich with history and meaning.  I love the elements—yes, the official Welch’s Grape Juice, and if the Family Stamps home baked bread isn’t available, then I can settle for Great Harvest’s or even a King’s Hawaiian loaf.

I love the breaking of the bread and the lifting of the cup.  I think about Christ’s sacrifice—the body broken, and the blood spilt.  I relish the reconciliation, the re-membering of the members of the body of Christ.  I ponder the crushed grains and grapes taken for us to share, given for us to share.

Best of all, I love the connection.  I cherish looking into your eyes and calling you Beloved, if not your first name.  I try to let my hand linger just for a moment on yours, just in case you need a human touch.  And then—to watch the gently nibbling, or the quick gobble as the bread is consumed; and the tiny sips or the full knocking back the little shot glass brimming with the juice.

I’m feeling all the ‘last’ moments with you in these final days at West End, but the best news of all is that we have indeed eaten together.  If you remember that sermon from five years ago—one I will share during my first Sunday at Christ Church in Charleston as well—we have eaten together, and that makes us family.  We are the communion of saints—past, present and future.  I will re-member you every time I eat or drink at the Lord’s table.

Grace and joy,

Julie