Monday, March 12, 2012

We're Dippers, Not Sippers


“Can we get some Jesus bread, Daddy?” My little buddy skipped down the church hallway holding his daddy’s hand. His dad looks at me, smiles and explains, “That’s what he calls the communion bread.” Britton adds, “I like it! It’s good!” I love seeing my “graduates” from the two year old room excited to be at church and experience God’s presence in beautiful, child-like ways. My own kids like it, too. Jacob calls it “holy bread.” Several weeks ago we had a conversation about how holy it is: that when it is blessed and consecrated, we treat it with special care; we ensure that it is consumed and not disposed of. This past Sunday Jacob asked if we could have the bread to take home so after church we were given a baggie of broken pita bread.  

Lunch that day? Yep. We actually happened to have grape juice, too. 



We’re dippers, not sippers. Intinction is the method of choice.

Which reminded me of the time my daughter was about six. When we got home from church she pulls out tortillas and pours some grape juice, sets it on the table and calls us all into the kitchen. The table had been made ready. Now, there was no consecration of the elements, no liturgy. Don’t even remember if we prayed. But I tell you as we gathered around that table and dipped our Mamacita Flour Tortillas into some off-brand Welch’s in a glass tumbler, God’s presence was palpable.

There’s such mystery wrapped up in the sacrament of Holy Communion. So many different perspectives on what it actually means, what it does, why we do it. And yet one thing cannot escape us: His presence.

One of my favorite roles as a servant is when I get to participate as a communion steward with my husband. As the congregation comes forward, he hands them the bread, I hold the cup (for dipping, not sipping. I only had one sipping attempt last week. It’s always a challenge to respectfully wrestle it out of their hands and hurry and get them another piece of bread. And there was that one time when that lady started to take her piece of bread out of her mouth so she could dip it. I’m pretty sure I put my hand over the cup).  Because of the diverse background of our congregation and the number of first time visitors we have on any given week, there’s always a bit of uncertainly for them as they try to figure out what they’re supposed to do. I, myself, don’t really know what the “proper” response is to someone who offers you the elements of communion. I grew up kneeling at an altar with those little cups and pellet wafers so no one ever handed them to me. However, I’ve come to accept the body and blood of Christ with an affirming “Amen” – a yes! So shall it be! But I would say most of the folks that hear my words “The blood of Christ shed for you” respond with “Thank you.” After all these years, I heard that “thank you” with different ears this time. I’m holding Jesus out to them, I’m sharing Him and offering them an opportunity to know Him in a new and deeper way. Holding that cup as a vessel of His grace and presence.

Later that night I opened the pantry and saw that baggie of Holy Bread. I took out a piece, felt that awed sense of reverence and whispered “Thank You.” Thank You, Jesus, for Your blood and sacrifice. Thank You for Your presence. Thank You for every person that has ever offered me the opportunity to know You more. Let me be a vessel. Let me offer You to others in everything that I do and everywhere that I go. Amen.