Communion
I got a text from my friend Ellery this morning as I was about to jump into the shower. He was inviting me to church in a funny way, as he sometimes does - and I responded in the way I always do, “Do ya’ll need me to fill in today?”. He and his wife Lorraine are co-pastors of this little congregation in Dublin - Emerald City Christian Center. They also own the bakery in my hometown where I frequented for a couple years - we built a rapport and a friendship pretty quickly and have talked a lot about faith and life. Outside of that, Ellery and I participate(d) in a men’s group together where we all got pretty close and talked about our lives more openly than in most spaces. Since I’ve moved we don’t see each other often - so I decided to drive over - maybe I felt led.
It’s a nice little building in the middle of the city with a small congregation of friendly faces, nice acoustics (I can’t stand bad acoustics, it’s a whole thing) and music, and Ellery has a unique preaching style where he blends all of his special interests and nerdiness into whatever his subject matter is. John Wick got a mention today. At the end they passed out the little cups with the unleavened bread and juice and held communion - the first time I’ve participated in corporate communion in 20 years or more.
After we went to a local favorite eatery and drank mojitos and held communion again - in a different and equally holy way; catching up, sharing stories, getting a rundown of all the gossip I’ve missed.
Back in February, I don’t remember the particular crisis I was experiencing - as I had experienced many in the months prior - my girlfriend went downstairs and grabbed a bottle of blueberry wine I had picked up the week before and a bag of corn tortillas and asked me if I would hold communion with her. She doesn’t profess Christianity in any way, not that I believe it matters. I don’t know why she knew my need for the ritual of it in that moment - but I did need it - like I needed it today.
She didn’t know I hadn’t participated in this ritual for over 20 years, but I consecrated our tortillas and wine with new words that night - words meant to explain it plainly for what it is because the Jesus of my understanding isn’t the one most well represented in this society.
To get the full impact, you should imagine me with my face covered in snot and tears - choking these words out…
“This is my body”
“It has been broken by the State for you”
rips tortilla and gives
“eat of it so that you may hunger no more”
and then with our blueberry wine in the coffee cups we had available -
“This is my blood”
“It has been spilled by the State for you”
“Drink of it so that you may thirst no more”
“This, do in remembrance of me - this ritual is intended to connect you to the least of these and to the people with whom you share it. It tells the story of execution, of laying down your life - of caring for those on the fringes of the world and found family- it is no small thing and should be present in your life beyond this ritual. The Empire has spilled the blood of millions, it has torn the flesh of millions - do this in remembrance of them all and let this ritual be a symbol of your willingness to live your life in service to those being crushed by it.”
Maybe my words are a little preachy, but I needed her to hear my thoughts as I reapproached this holy thing with reverence - in a holy place, in a holy moment.
Today, at that church, I hummed along to some beautiful words and music that don’t exactly represent what I believe and I listened to a sermon that doesn’t align jot and tittle with what I believe - but I was greeted and loved like someone deeply cared for - and I was offered communion without question, because they understand that the table at which this ritual was first held was full of people like me.
I live and serve in Central Georgia - where it can be difficult for queer people to find access to ritual. Prior to now I hadn’t felt compelled to offer it explicitly (I do several weddings a year), but if you find yourself desiring communion or baptism (a subject I’m writing about separately) and don’t have a place to go for it - contact me. We are loved and my faith in love is still devout.