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captainsblogIn my thirty-plus years of active membership in three different Methodist churches, I've done about everything one can do short of taking holy orders. I've preached (that license expired more than 25 years ago, and God said, "It is good,"), assisted in liturgy and reading, occasionally ushed, mentored confirmands, taken classes, led classes, sung in the choir (another expired license God refuses to renew), and even cleaned up in the kitchen.
But I had never served communion before today.
The crowd was relatively sparse (still twice what was in my growing-up church which I visited on my trip last Sunday), and since a friend brought her five-week-old itty-bitty in for us to see, I was sitting up closer to the front than I usually do, and so I got called on when none of the usual stewards appeared to be around.
Now this isn't exactly rocket science. I've been on the other side of that chalice enough times to know the drill. We're intinctionists here at Williamsville, which means an ordained-type passes out the bread (gluten-free on your right) and a lay server holds the cup filled with Wegmans Host You Feel Good About™ brand grape juice for the parishioners to dip Jesus into.
Forget the theological differences about transsubstantiation and real presence and all that. The only thought up there is, Don't spill the Lord on the carpet.
And God be praised!, I didn't. But it took all of three communicants before someone not only dipped but completely dropped Jesus into the chalice, taking another Piece of the Body and consuming that before I could fish Him out.
You can see the Holy dilemma. Who wants to partake of such a love feast, for religious reasons or even health ones, if there's someone else's salvation rising to the top? So I discreetly removed the Body of Christ, Floating For You, from the chalice and proceeded to hold Him under the lower rim of the cup for the remainder of the queue. I then artfully slipped Him back in before the elements were re-covered.
The minister who I'd been assisting- his first week with us- then asked if I wanted to be served. I thought about just fishing out my own burden and telling him, "No thanks, already ate," but I figured we'd be better off if I just conformed.
Come back next week, when Ray sneaks three Alka-Seltzer tablets into the baptismal font.
But I had never served communion before today.
The crowd was relatively sparse (still twice what was in my growing-up church which I visited on my trip last Sunday), and since a friend brought her five-week-old itty-bitty in for us to see, I was sitting up closer to the front than I usually do, and so I got called on when none of the usual stewards appeared to be around.
Now this isn't exactly rocket science. I've been on the other side of that chalice enough times to know the drill. We're intinctionists here at Williamsville, which means an ordained-type passes out the bread (gluten-free on your right) and a lay server holds the cup filled with Wegmans Host You Feel Good About™ brand grape juice for the parishioners to dip Jesus into.
Forget the theological differences about transsubstantiation and real presence and all that. The only thought up there is, Don't spill the Lord on the carpet.
And God be praised!, I didn't. But it took all of three communicants before someone not only dipped but completely dropped Jesus into the chalice, taking another Piece of the Body and consuming that before I could fish Him out.
You can see the Holy dilemma. Who wants to partake of such a love feast, for religious reasons or even health ones, if there's someone else's salvation rising to the top? So I discreetly removed the Body of Christ, Floating For You, from the chalice and proceeded to hold Him under the lower rim of the cup for the remainder of the queue. I then artfully slipped Him back in before the elements were re-covered.
The minister who I'd been assisting- his first week with us- then asked if I wanted to be served. I thought about just fishing out my own burden and telling him, "No thanks, already ate," but I figured we'd be better off if I just conformed.
Come back next week, when Ray sneaks three Alka-Seltzer tablets into the baptismal font.
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Date: 2007-07-01 11:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-02 02:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-02 03:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-02 04:07 pm (UTC)The way I heard it, at that wedding in Cana He got so drunk on that fancy stuff He made, by the end of the reception He was turning the guests into giant fishes during the chicken dance.