12 Pentecost, 2024-B: The gift and power of Communion

Lectionary: 1 Kings 19:4-8; Psalm 34:1-8; Ephesians 4:25-5:2; John 6:35, 41-51

En el nombre de Diós: creador, redentor, y santificador... In the name of God, Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier. Amen.  

 Going to church every Sunday was something my Roman Catholic family did – no questions, no options. We sat in the front row on the left. Always. The one in front of the statue of Mary.

My father, who had a bellowing baritone voice, couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, but that never stopped him from singing with gusto, searching for the notes as he sang. I was equally embarrassed and awed by that.

My father was a high-strung, volatile, pre-Vatican II Irishman. He grew up in an Irish gang that ran roughshod over his neighborhood in Washington Heights in NYC.

He was a short man with a powerful presence, who owned every room he walked into, including at church. My father rarely showed emotion – unless it was anger. My sisters and I learned quickly that if Dad’s upper lip disappeared, we’d better get out fast (if we could), because his anger was about to blow.

I’ll never forget this one Sunday when I was 5 years old, I witnessed something incredible. During the consecration of the elements, I saw my dad look up at the altar. An unfamiliar look came over his face and I saw that his face practically glowed with what I can only call a mix of peace and joy. He looked like a different person.

I followed his gaze to see what he was looking at. The priest was elevating the bread, then the wine as he prayed the Eucharistic Prayer. I kept looking back and forth from the altar to my Dad’s face, and I knew deep within me that this thing that was happening up there must be really important because it was having this noticeable effect on my father. I watched this happen regularly – not every Sunday, but many of them.

Communion remains the only time I ever saw my father truly humble himself. It’s the only time I ever saw him willingly surrender the strength of his personality to anything. Not even at his AA anniversaries (which I attended as his AA baby). Not even at the deaths or births of family members. Only at Communion.

I invite you to think about and remember the first time you realized that something powerful was happening at Holy Communion and consider sharing those stories – at coffee hour, or in a Formation event. These stories are inspiring and can be transforming.

Admittedly, some people are put off by the language of the Communion prayers: eating Jesus’ body and drinking his blood, so it’s important for us to remember that this is the language of ritual. Jesus was a rabbi, who presided over many ritual meals. Orthodox theologian Joseph Martos says ritual meals, “affirm and intensify the bond of unity among the participants.” (Doors to the Sacred, Joseph Martos, 213) That’s what Jesus was doing then and what we do now in remembrance of him,

The letter to the Ephesians affirms this saying, “we are members of one another.” We can be angry, but we must not let that anger cause us to break our communion with one another or with God. When we speak, we are to say only that which will give grace to those who hear us. When we tear down another member or speak ill of them, or when we cling to bitterness and anger, we do damage to that bond of unity God is forming among us.

Martos says that in ritual meals, like the Jewish Passover and our Holy Eucharist, the events we remember “become real and present to the people who share it.” (Martos, 213) As Episcopalians, communion isn’t just a memorial for us as it is for many Protestants. It’s a present reality. Christ is truly present, and we don’t just remember that, we live it, again and again.

When we hear the words, “do this for the remembrance of me” I hope we hear the voice of our Savior inviting us to come back into unity with him. Re-member… Be at one again…

It’s a full-body, full sensory experience for us. We walk our bodies up to the communion rail and stand by someone we may or may not know, someone we may or may not like. We reach out our hands and take the bread and wine of Holy Communion into our mouths.

We taste the bread of communion as it melts on our tongues and that too becomes a signal to our bodies that we are choosing this holy thing to happen within us. We chew the bread and swallow it and its substance literally becomes part of us, part of the cells of our bodies.

The smell of the wine, whether on the bread or in the cup, greets us as the sharp flavor of it stimulates our glands. signaling our saliva. In a very real way, water and wine are mixing within us, echoing the water and wine that flowed from Jesus’ wound on the cross for our sakes, making manifest the union of our bodies to Christ.

When we eat the bread of life and drink the cup of salvation, we are inviting God to enter us, to become one with us, and make us one with God and each other. It’s such a powerful moment, a moment of pure joy as we remember, even for just this moment, that we are beloved and forgiven. It is a moment of deep peace as we remember that by this spiritual food we are renewed, strengthened, and made whole again. When we choose to take Holy Communion, we are intentionally receiving its power to unite us to God and to one another in love.

Our daily lives can drain us. The world can drain us. Our Christian life should drain us. We should be giving out love and prayer and offering words of hope to someone every day. There are so many who need it and we can give it away continually because we believe, we know there is always more ready to fill us up again.

This journey is too much for us unless we are continually nourished and renewed by our spiritual food: the bread and wine of Holy Communion. This journey is too much for us to travel alone, so we must continually affirm our bond of unity to God and one another. This journey is too much for us unless we stop the world, come into the presence of God, and remember that we are beloved, forgiven, and sanctified, that is, we are made holy, unified to Christ in whom we are all made whole.

Remembering that gives us strength to go out to the world, again and again, as living locations of the love of Christ in the world. That is the gift and the power of Holy Communion. Thanks be to God. Amen.