More, More, More

(Yes, I would like more comments, but that is not what I am talking about)

On Maundy Thursday we had a nice service of remembrance of Jesus' acts. We celebrated Jesus' re-writing of the Passover meal and we were amazed as he washed the crud off of the disciples feet (and their hearts, too, of course).

During the time of celebrating the Last Supper something very lovely happened that my 14 month old son caused. It was a great point of remembrance for how we should desire more and more of Jesus.

We have taken custom of serving Holden communion during our services in the parish. He usually gets a small part of Mom's or I serve him a small piece--usually we take turns. On this particular day Holden must have been hungry (that is, I admit there wasn't a spiritual thought in his little head, but really I don't care).

You see, we have been working with Holden on sign language since he was just a few months old and he has taken to the sign for 'more':It has been helpful to know when he is full or not. We have also been working on the sign for 'all done. Anyways, when Aly returned back to the pew after receiving, Holden started signing that he wanted 'more'. Rumor has it that he wouldn't stop, so after the service he got some of the remaining 'yummy' bread. I have to admit I took my share as well and split the rest with the three kids who were helping wash communion glasses!

For me, Holden modeled what our desire for the bread of life should be. It has caused me to be observant of whether or not I desire more of Christ in my life--whether that be in the sacraments or in prayer...or whatever.

Once again, a child has taught me about a right, and stronger, relationship with the bread of life.

Good to be stuck?

I have been absolutely loving our Wednesday evening Lenten services. I am really sad that they have ended for the year. In the parish I serve I have experienced a different climate and atmosphere that has grown the past three years. There is a lot more joy, happiness and meaning found on Wednesday's verses Sunday's, sadly.

Last night I received a great reminder. It happened because a 4th grader was helping me sing part of the liturgy for Holden Evening Prayer. Her friend sitting next to me actually prompted the lesson for me. We started singing the song, "Let my prayer rise up like incense before you..." and she leaned over to me and whispered to me, "This is the song I always get stuck in my head for the rest of the night when I leave."

To be honest, this almost brought tears to my eyes because I can see God at work in this, plus Holden Evening Prayer is a piece of 'soul' music for me and has to be one of the best contemporary pieces of church music.

The point to make is that worship is nothing if something doesn't get stuck in our head. If we trust that God is up to something and that the Spirit is moving in the world then our prayer can be that something will get lodged in our thick heads. I don't really care what that is: music, scripture, sermon, something you taste or smell, even the way someone greets you (I guess I don't mean even, as I think of word, sacrament, and Christian community as equals, though some deal with what we do and what God does differently).

Lately I have been worrying about what is getting stuck in my head. That is my Lent journey. I guess what someone said to me recently needs to drive itself home--"Everything in freedom, Chad, everything in freedom." Peace to you.

The Heretical Deep End?

It seems to be the season for communion stories! I had another experience this past Sunday where a 3-4 year old was interested in communion, and the parents were willing. I offered this your girl a piece of bread and she looked up at me smiling glad that I wasn’t only giving her a blessing. She was able to participate. These are great moments for me. In a way I feel like we are welcoming these children to the Body of Christ all over again.

However the story isn’t over yet, but I have to include a little side note first. In the parish I serve when a child is ready for communion they only receive the bread until they have the “official” training in 5^th grade. It is something that I have inherited, and have not chosen to play the blue chip to make a change. But Sunday changed my mind, not because she understood what she was asking for, but because I did.

So…this young girl received her bread from me, I offered her a blessing (may you know God’s love and care all the days of your life), and then I continued on being followed by the person serving the wine and grape juice. I served 2-3 more folks, and then out of the corner of my ear (can you say that?) I heard this phrase: “But mommy, I need something to drink with my bread.” I found myself pausing and laughing with the 10 others who heard her statement. I tell you what—if I could do it all over again I would have given her some grape juice because she asked her ‘mommy’ three more times for something to drink with her bread.

Now don’t think I am a fool—a three year old doesn’t reason it all out and doesn’t realize that she may be ‘eating and drinking judgment upon herself’ to quote a phrase that is widely misused…but I am sold on her desire to participate none-the-less. It would have been helpful if Jesus would have welcomed the kids to a Seder meal or anything like that. For me, though, that young boy giving the loaf of bread for the feeding of the 5000 might just be enough. It’s about participating and taking in faith that something even beyond reason is happening. That’s what I do every week, so why do we make such a big deal about getting it all right before we can be part of the community?

Any thoughts? Have I jumped off the heretical deep end here? Or have we historically jumped off the other end?