The Eucharist and Celebration

            When we first went to seminary in 1972, we didn’t really have a church to attend every week.  Christmas season came and we wanted very much to find a place to celebrate this wonderful holiday.  We looked in the paper and found a parish in Washington, DC called St. Stephen and the Incarnation that advertised: Everyone is Welcome, so we went there on Christmas Eve to celebrate the birth of our Lord.

            The place was in a celebratory mood.  When it came time to bring up the elements for consecration into the bread and wine of the Eucharist, there was a popping of corks around us and we discovered that several of the people in the parish had brought cold duck to use for communion.  The bottles were taken up to the altar and the rector, a wonderful man named Bill Wendt, came forward with Christmas lights on his chasuble to receive them.  The people all gathered around the altar for the prayer of consecration of the elements.  A sweet roll was on the altar to use as the bread for communion, and the cold duck was poured into a large vessel that looked a little bit like a martini glass.  .  The people were all elated and ready for a wonderful time.  There was nothing wrong with all of this.  There was a measure of solemnity in all of it.  There was simply a wonderful mood of celebration. 

            This was the seventies and this was one of the more liberal parishes in the Diocese of Washington; but the beauty of that Christmas Eve and the way that those people welcomed the newborn Christ has never left me. I learned more about liturgy in that evening than in all of my three years in seminary.  I loved what it said about the Eucharist that we celebrate every Sunday.  Celebration is certainly the right word.

            The scripture in John’s Gospel about the wedding feast at Cana is a magnificent story.  Jesus has gone with his mother and his disciples to a wedding feast in the small town of Cana, a few miles northeast of Nazareth.  During the feast, the wine ran out and they didn’t have any more.  Mary asked Jesus to do something about it.  He told her that he couldn’t because it wasn’t his time.  Mary ignored that and told the servants around them to do whatever Jesus told them to do.  There were a number of large vats in the back of the hall which were used for Jewish purification rites.  This was a desert community and feet were constantly covered with dirt and sand. When people came indoors, they needed to wash their feet and their hands before they could interact with the people.  Jesus told the servants to fill those vats to the brim with water, then to draw some off and take it to the steward of the feast.

            They did that and discovered that the water had been changed into wine.  The steward sampled it and told the bridegroom that most people save the good wine until last because the guests will have become drunk; but you have saved the good wine until last.  This was high praise for the bridegroom.

             Theologians have looked at the wedding feast at Cana as the origin of the Eucharist; the creating of the celebratory moment when bread and wine were consumed and the changing of the water into wine became a model for the way that we celebrate communion to this day.  We don’t change the water into wine, but in the words of the Eucharistic prayer, the wine and the bread become the body and the blood of our Lord Jesus to feed our faith and to carry us on our way in this world becoming models of the Lord’s love that has been so graciously shared with us in communion.  That model of celebration that we discovered at that church in Washington is a perfect way to look at our major sacrament.  We are celebrating the presence of our Lord in our lives as we go about our daily lives. 

            There is another moment in the Gospels when the same thing happens.  After Jesus’ resurrection, he encounters two men on their way to Emmaus and joins them.  They talk about the amazing thing that has happened over the last several days, how this Jesus who was crucified has apparently risen from the grave, or at least some people say that.  When they got to their destination, they invited Jesus to come to eat with them.  When they were at the table, Jesus took some bread, broke it and all of a sudden the eyes of the men were opened and they knew that Jesus was with them.  He then disappeared.

            What is true here each week in our celebration of the Eucharist is that we are fed with the body and blood of our Lord.  Jesus gave his life for us all and the church has never forgotten that.  His gift to us of himself is what we share each week in this profound ceremony.  I am always in awe when I pray over the bread and the wine that you bring forward and watch as it becomes the sacrament of our Lord’s presence in this place and in our lives.  Jesus presence in our lives is what we have in this faith of ours; Jesus presence in everything that we do and in everything that happens to us.  We have God’s assurance that we are never alone no matter what happens.  I have seen this countless times in this world.  No matter how bad it gets, we are never alone.  Remember that Jesus suffered a horrible death on the cross, cried out and asked why God had forsaken him, but yet was given new life by God who loved him and who loves us.  We never need fear.  God loves us always.

Touching and Love

       After we Episcopalians changed the prayer book back in the seventies, we began the wonderful tradition of the peace after the confession and absolution.  Before we had the peace, we would all stay in our pews and simply do not much of anything.  With the peace, we touch each other, say nice things to each other and celebrate what we are, a community, with great joy.  I know that has made a great difference in our churches.  

            The Peace is not a new thing.  When I think of the early church, meeting in the homes of the apostles, probably around thirty or forty people at a gathering, there was much joy involved.  There was happiness that was reflected in their worship.  They didn’t have the liturgy that we have now, but there was a great celebration of who they were.  One of the things that they all did was to touch each other.  I have come to learn that touching conveys a lot of information.  When we are reluctant to touch, it is usually for a reason.  Sometimes we are depressed or lonely or feel that we are a stranger.  When I encounter this, I know that more conversation is probably something that I ought to try to have.  That is also something that builds community. When I visit someone in the hospital, it is essential that I touch them.  It conveys caring and hope.  We hold hands when we pray.  That seems like a small thing, but it holds us together.  It makes us one in the Lord.  

           We are all rather predictable people.  We all have our own pews in our church.  Most of you sit on the Gospel, or pulpit side of the church.  Others sit on the Epistle or the side where the lessons are read.  Sometimes that can be a problem.  When I first went into St. James’ church in Charleston, WV as their interim rector back in first days of this century, I sat in the pew of one of the pillars of the community and was immediately told about this.  I apologized and was forgiven, but it was something that I never forgot.  I’m sure that has happened here from time to time.  We love our particular places.  They become a part of our ritual, our liturgy, our way of worship and we are comfortable with this quirk of human nature.      

 

            This touching is reflected in our scripture for this Sunday.  The story in Luke is about the baptism of the people by John the Baptist and then the baptism of Jesus.  The people are all wondering if John is the Messiah.  He tells them that he baptizes with water, but one is coming mightier than he who will baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire. 

            Later, when Jesus is baptized, the Holy Spirit descends like a dove and Jesus hears the voice of God say to him: You are my son, my beloved.  With you, I am well pleased. Here at the very beginning of the ministry of Jesus we have touching; God touching Jesus; Jesus touching the people.  This becomes a way of ministry, a way of communication.  The beauty of this way of living is that it emphasizes the fact that we are not alone.  We are a community of people who worship our God together.  We not only worship together, we help each other, we pray for each other and we care for each other.  This extends into the place where we are located.  God sends us into the world to be people who touch others. 

            Rosie and I do Meals on Wheels  every week.  I love the way that the people answer the door and are thrilled to see us.  It is a way of bringing life and comfort to them.  It is again only a small thing, but it is for us an extension of our worship.  It is a way to take our love and concern into the wider community and to know a larger variety of people.  I know that you all have your ministries also.  These are things that you share with each of us in your touch at the peace.  I thank God for each and every one of you and the way that you contribute to the goodness of this world.