Holy Whisper

"This is the body of Christ, broken for you."
"This is the blood of Christ, shed for you."


In my short life, I have celebrated communion hundreds (maybe even thousands) of times. In all those times, I have never heard these words shouted. I have never heard them proclaimed with strong authority. I have never even heard them loud enough to create an echo, or be heard more than a few feet away. No, these are words that are always said in a holy whisper. Whether the server is a bishop or a teenager, it is always whispered:

"This is the body of Christ, broken for you."
"This is the blood of Christ, shed for you."

Maybe the whispers are signs of reverence and awe of what Christ has done and is doing. We know that the presence of God is passing from server's hands to congregant's hands, and therefore too important to announce casually.

Maybe the whispers are remnants of the early church, whose people whispered these words because saying it any louder could invite persecution, arrest, or even death. In the face of danger, they whispered to keep the holy mystery alive.

Maybe it is because the distribution of bread and cup is too intimate to shout. No matter how large the congregation, it is one person feeding another, as long as it takes, until all have eaten. This is the body of Christ, for you. This piece of bread, these few drops of wine, are not for your neighbor. They will receive their own. No, this morsel, this drop, is for you, picked out especially for you by the God who loves you, and I say these words so that you and you alone may hear.

Maybe it's something else entirely. Whatever it is, I am glad to give and receive this holy whisper. I am glad because it reminds me of the saints before me, the saints around me, and the saints to come. And it reminds me that sometimes, God speaks in a still, small voice, perhaps even a holy whisper.

Does God make the schedule for MLB?

Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. Today is also the first day of Major League Baseball's Spring Training, as pitchers and catchers reported to camps at noon. Lent ends on Easter Sunday, which this year is celebrated on April 4. That also happens to be the date of baseball's opening night. So, in a crazy alignment of professional baseball scheduling and the liturgical calendar, Spring Training and Lent perfectly overlap in 2010. This made me realize just how much these two seasons of preparation have in common. Without further ado, the top 5 ways Spring Training and Lent are similar:

5. I look forward to them both.

4. We turn our eyes upon Jesus, as well as Jesus.

3. Both are times of intense examination.

2. Both consist of purging what is bad and calling up what is good.

1. Both end with the hope-filled celebration of a new beginning.

World Communion Sunday

This Sunday is World Communion Sunday. That means our church will celebrate, along with other churches around the world, the interconnectedness of Christ's church. We will commune in our small town church as one body, but we will also commune with our brothers and sisters around the world, figuratively gathering around one table, breaking one loaf, and drinking from one cup of blessing. In honor of World Communion Sunday, I have decorated the altar with items from many countries around the world. These are all items that Lisa or I have obtained from our own travels or the travels of our friends and family. I also have multiple lapel pins representing countries from around the world -- most of them from my childhood journeys through Disney World's Epcot Center -- that I plan to wear pinned to my robe. Finally, I will use the modified liturgy found in the UM Book of Worship that was written for just such an occasion.

Our church only celebrates the sacrament of the Lord's Supper about 3-4 times a year, but I would love to move us toward more frequent communion, as per Wesley's and the UMC's request. Since we're not there yet, this Sunday will be only the second time I will preside over communion. Those who know me won't be surprised to hear that I have been eagerly anticipating this Sunday's service. All week, I've been walking around with an extra bounce in my step. The mere prospect of a communion Sunday is enough to lift my spirits for an entire week! But what is it about communion that gets me going?

Maybe it's the beauty and comfort of the communion liturgy, which has remained relatively unchanged for almost two milennia. Maybe it's the multiple meanings that communion holds for us as Christians: thanksgiving, community, remembrance of Christ's mighty acts, sacrifice, life-giving action of the Holy Spirit, and hope for the coming of Christ's kingdom. Maybe it's the chance to preside over such a sacred act in the life of the church, serving the body and blood of Christ to the body of Christ as its members kneel at the throne of grace. More than likely, it's all of these things.

The last reason, the responsibility and authority that has been bestowed on me to preside, has tremendous meaning for me as a pastor. Not just anyone can preside over the Lord's Supper, which at times seems harsh, but reminds us of the nature of clergy as "set apart." By "set apart", I do not mean this to be elitist or self-righteous, but humbly called by God to do the work of the church, including the administering of sacraments. Presiding over the table reminds me of my own call to ordained ministry. It humbles me because I know that I am terribly unqualified to serve in this capacity. It brings me to tears because in the moment of administering this sacrament, I feel more sure than at any other moment that I am called by God to dedicate my life to ordained ministry in the United Methodist Church.

For everyone, communion is meant to be an uplifting event in the life of the church. It reminds us of why we believe what we do, it centers us on the meaning of Christ's life and actions, and it connects us with the God who unites us all. It gives us a purpose for living, a purpose for loving, a purpose for serving. If we allow it, the sacrament of the Lord's Supper will provide us with an extra bounce in our step for a few weeks, days, hours, maybe even just minutes. May this be so in your life on this Sunday morning as we remember that "we, though many, throughout the earth, we are one body in this one, Lord."