Yum!

It was Communion Sunday, a day when this large parish shared bread and wine in remembrance of what Jesus did with his disciples at the Last Supper. Christian denominations vary in the way they view communion. Some see it as a remembrance, others as more than a memorial - that Christ is made present through the bread and wine.

However a church views communion, it’s always a solemn and important occasion which is why this particular parish worked with military precision to make sure everything was done “decently and in order.” A crew of dedicated volunteers helped before, during, and after the service. (They even had training sessions, or rehearsals, to make sure things ran smoothly.) As always, everything was in place before the service began. The silver was polished and the bread and wine sat in the back ready to be brought forward at the appointed time.

A family with two small children entered and, without thinking or asking, one of the children reached over and took a piece of bread and popped it in her mouth. Her parents and the usher were horrified, but it was too late. “Yum,” she said with a mischievous grin as she proceeded to strut down the aisle like the beloved child of God she was. There’s a brushstroke in that, I thought to myself when I heard the usher’s account of what happened.

The Last Supper must have been an amazing moment in the disciples’ time with Jesus. Although tensions outside the upper room were high, when Jesus took bread and wine and gave them to the disciples no one knew how important such a meal would become. Once he was gone, the meal became a way to connect to Jesus, to feel (as if to taste) his presence, and throughout the ages, churches have sought to continue this practice in hopes of experiencing Christ’s presence in their own time. Unfortunately, this led to people feeling they needed the Church to experience Christ’s presence or that it is only in the eucharistic bread and wine that God’s presence can be found.

The child who didn’t wait for the church’s permission took the bread because it was there. It looked inviting. What a vivid example, and poignant invitation, she gave to all of us who seek Christ’s presence. We don’t need polished silver, nor dramatic liturgic rituals for Christ to be present. His presence awaits us all. All we have to do is reach out and grab it.

Christ can be known in the breaking of the bread and in the breaking of our lives.

He can be tasted in the wine and in the water of a cold stream.

He can be felt in our hands as we lift them at the altar and as we lift them to hold a loved one, stranger, or someone who’s hurting.

Life, after all, was created by God. Everything (and everyone) in it has the power to bring forth the presence of God. Like the girl in the back of church, we need only look around and reach for the “bread” that’s in front of us.

We’ll feel God’s presence when it is made known to us, and maybe our prayer of thanksgiving when that happens will be as simple and sincere as the young girl’s: yum!