Sunday, October 06, 2013

Communion Sunday


We heard the pastor’s words—an invitation to all to partake. We listened to the words describing the meaning. We watched the bread being broken, the wine poured.

The pastor and a congregant stood on one side and two congregants stood on the other side of the middle aisle. Pew by pew emptied out as we stood and walked to the front—and partook.

The two congregants on my side looked out over the church and waited—then turned and began to walk back up the stairs. Just then the young woman whose wheelchair is pushed to the front pew started making guttural sounds, releasing unformed words and waving her arms about. Locked inside a body she can’t command she strained to be understood.

Usually her attendant dipped the bread for her and fed her, but today he was probably someone new and didn’t realize that she too waited to partake. The two who served communion probably thought that she was unable to eat the bread—today.

Hearing her they turned about and one dipped the bread in the wine and gently placed it in her mouth.
Bread of life.
Cup of Blessing.

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