On Coming to the Table

"We are coming, Lord, to the table.

We are coming, Lord to the table

With the gift of bread, we are coming, Lord

With the gift of wine, we are coming, Lord.

Oh, sing it over.

Oh, we are coming, Lord" 

(communion song from Sierra Leone) 

When I was 18, I went on a prayer trip to Tunisia. Mind you, this was before the Arab Spring, before anyone in the Western world had even heard about about this small North African country. The purpose of the trip was simple: the Tunisian Christians had asked that we would pray, and so for 10 days, my college group walked and prayed through the country.  We were welcomed into people's homes, drank coffee (well, I didn't...I drank tea) with Tunisian college students, heard their stories and danced with them on their roofs. It was my first trip abroad and even now, having explored and loved many countries since then, that beautiful country still holds a large piece of my heart. 

One night as the trip came to a close, we found ourselves huddled into a small dark humid hotel room. All twenty of us crammed into the room to sing and pray together before bed. Our campus minister, Mark (one of the most godly men I have ever met), began an informal communion service right there in the room. With everyone passing the bread and wine to each other, each offered words of encouragement and love to another as we passed around the elements. 

And as I took the bread, I realized that if love had a taste, this is what it was. This Tunisian bread and wine mixed together. This was the love of God made known in some mysterious and unknowable way. 

This was grace. 

This was Christ. 

This was Communion.

Since that day, I have participated in many beautiful and life-sustaining communion experiences: my wedding day, the first time at serving at my seminary, a Christmas Eve service, but on that warm Tunisian evening, my heart was strangely warmed in a way that still makes my eyes blur a little when I think about it over seven years later. 

And now with several more years of theological education in my head, I could debate with the best of them over the nuances of open and closed tables, transubstantiation vs consubstantiation, symbol vs substance. 

And if you were really interested, I could draw you some charts pointing out the strengths and weaknesses of each view and we could go over the timelines tracking how the theologies developed over time. You would probably laugh at me, because I can get a little absurd when I talk about the Great Schism and the debate over the shape of the bread which happened in the 11th century

But in the end, all those words would just be an inadequate attempt of trying to understand how God shows up in cramped hotel rooms and large cathedrals...

an inadequate attempt to define the love of God. 

Amen. 

 For I received from the Lord what I also passed on to you: The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.”  For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes. (I Corinthians 11:23-26)



"Kairouan 1" by August Macke
 source: http://www.art-prints-on-demand.com/a/august-macke/kairouan-i.html