The following was originally posted on January 13, 2016:
Things get a little messy at the communion table each week at St. James. Call me a 'crumby' presider if you will. That's okay. I actually delight in the fact that we could use one of those little crumb scrapers that are used in the high-end restaurants to clear the table. Here's why...
1) Wafers are suspect when it comes to being "bread". Let's be honest. Communion wafers taste like cardboard (or at least that is what I imagine because I am not in the habit of eating cardboard). I know they are the traditional preference at communion tables the world over. I also know that: they dissolve in your mouth without any effort; they are convenient to carry to shut-ins; come in large quantities that are easily procured from all over the world; and they have a seemingly 'eternal' shelf life. In the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America's 1998 Sacramental practices document - the preferred bread offering departed away from using these 'divine disks' towards the use of real bread. Real bread has none of the admirable quantities of wafers. I can't leave it in my communion kit for more than a day or so - it will become hard as a rock and green as a shamrock. I requires more effort to provide - you either have to make a special trip to the store or bake large quantities in advance and use the freezer. Crumbs are almost unavoidable (as least in the practice of this presider). For all the disadvantages found in using real bread, it all seems to pale behind a simple fact - it is real. Real bread is just like the kind that you eat elsewhere. Real bread that tastes good and takes a little while to chew. With reality comes inevitable messiness.
2) Life is messy... thank God we have communion. I don't need to provide much of an explanation here, do I? Life is messy and broken. Try as we may, perfection eludes our efforts. Keeping it real requires a realization that our lives are less than what we imagine they should be or could be or will be. I return to the meal stories of Jesus and find solace in the fact that although the Pharisees had tried to preserve the holy boundaries at all costs (and exclusions to those deemed 'unclean'), Jesus never did. Jesus, on the other hand, shared table fellowship with sinners and tax collectors - the very broken lives that were labeled/judged 'unclean' by the religious police of the time. Jesus engaged in the messiness of life and helped to transform it with forgiveness, grace, and love. Think of Zacchaeus and the restoration of this broken life to communion thanks to the insistent Jesus that 'had' to eat at his house. I am grateful for a God who loves me and comes to me in all my own messiness. I am filled with joy that there is a place at the communion table for me. I don't need to clean up all the mess in order to come to the table where I find a brand new invitation to life.
3) Real Presence is, well, real. This is the point, isn't it? In the meal of real bread and wine, we find that God is, honest to good, present. How? Martin Luther used a whole bunch of prepositions to try to describe the indescribable: IN, WITH, UNDER the bread and wine. Transcending both logic and metaphysical categories, this doesn't seem to make all that much sense. And yet, we have the promise of Jesus that he would be there... with us, in a real and life changing way. I will leave the systematic wrestling to others that have more of a capacity and desire for such things. As a simple parish pastor, I don't claim (or even want to be) that smart. That said, I have seen the life giving presence of Jesus as I distribute chunks of freshly broken bread into the open and yearning hands of God's people. I have seen the transformation and strength that is found in the sharing of this sacred meal. Lives are given new hope and new direction. The lonely find that they are not alone. Jesus is really present - and that seems to make all the difference. In another blog, I will explore how fleeting and elusive this presence can be (see the Emmaus table in Luke 24:28-35)... but that is for another day.
So there you have it, a theological explanation for why I celebrate at our messy table each week. More important is the fact that I celebrate the God who meets us at messy tables and provides the healing strength that we need as we struggle and live in our messy world.