Good morning…
I felt privileged to serve holy communion to our family of faith during a tumultuous time in the United Methodist Church. With my feeble fingers I pulled off a small piece of the whole homemade loaf and placed it in the open palm of each person walking up to receive a living morsel of transformational truth.
To the young mom worshipping without a soulmate I encouraged, “This is the body of Christ broken for you.”
To each of her two long-haired, blonde boys I smiled, “This is the body of Christ broken for you.”
To our own sleepy seventeen year old son I whispered, “This is the body of Christ broken for you.”
To all who interpret the Word of God differently I invited, “This is the body of Christ broken for you.”
To the jolly-eyed black man I gently joined hands and said, “This is the body of Christ broken for you.”
To those who pensively pulled into a parking spot I nodded, “This is the body of Christ broken for you.”
To those heavy-laden with hidden sources of pain I lifted up, “This is the body of Christ broken for you.”
To the asian couple with their adorable daughter I welcomed, “This is the body of Christ broken for you.”
To people who value the church’s traditional values I reassured, “This is the body of Christ broken for you.”
To all seeking to support the needs of the LGBTQ community I offered, “This is the body of Christ broken for you.”
To women with whom I have learned loving lessons in our living room I exuded, “This is the body of Christ broken for you.”
To parents I know are struggling to understand a child’s homosexual lifestyle I affirmed, “This is the body of Christ broken for you.”
To those heartbroken by the exclusion of clergy and couples who are openly gay I ached with, “This is the body of Christ broken for you.”
Each time we take communion together in our diverse community, we repeat the blessing Jesus gave everyone gathered at the table for his final earthly feast. Taking bread, he blessed it, broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, given for you. Eat it in my memory.” He did the same with the cup after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant written in my blood, blood poured out for you” (Luke 22:19-20, MSG).
As we take into our body the broken body of Christ, we are united in a holy, intimate mystery. At one with God, we encourage. We smile. We whisper. We invite. We gently join hands and speak. We nod. We lift up. We welcome. We reassure. We offer. We exude. We affirm. We ache with. As we eat from one loaf in memory of our new covenant, God empowers us to become the living body of Christ in this tumultuous time.
…Sue…
