I'm In

​Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
Proper 15, Year B
August 15, 2021
 
Lizzie was three years old.  Each week she took her place on the front row with the rest of Mrs. Belk’s PreK-3s for Episcopal Day School’s weekly chapel service.  On the major feast days of the Church, we celebrated Eucharist, and as an orientation to this rite, I visited with the PreK3s before chapel.  I brought down some wafers and some wine.  I showed them the chalice and paten.  As a newly minted priest, I tried to explain Eucharist so they would know what was going on.  My big error was trying to “explain” the Eucharist, and my young charges kept me honest.  “Is that really bread?  Is that real wine?  Is that really a piece of Jesus?  Isn’t it just gross to drink blood?”  These students were on to something that adults think but do not ask.
 
I was stumped.  With a head full of theology, I was trying to convey an experience, poorly.  God love Mrs. Belk, a seasoned pro; she turned to the children and said “what do you think?”  This was my first and best lesson in becoming a teacher:  get out of the way, they know things.  Hands shot up all over the front row.  “I think Jesus wants us to remember him.  I think Jesus knows that we must eat and drink, and he wants to be food for us.  I like communion because it is special and because we get to move around instead of just listening all the time.  Jesus is here because we believe.”
 
Lizzie was clearly interested, but quiet and reflective.  I had explained that they could come forward for a blessing if they did not want to receive and they could cross their arms across their chest and pray with me.  When the time came for communion, Lizzie came forward with her classmates with her arms crossed.  Mrs. Belk went first.  I spoke the words: “The Body of Christ the bread of heaven.” and gave Mrs. Belk the bread.  Lizzie was next.  She was thinking, hesitated, then unfolded her arms, reached into the sanctuary with both hands, and looked up and into my eyes.  I want this, she whispered.  Yes.  “The Body of Christ, the bread of heaven.”
 
In its infinite wrestling with mystery, the Church and her theologians have an entire language for conversing about what the Eucharist is.  We have the Greek term anamnesis which is a liturgical remembrance that takes us where it points.  There is transubstantiation, which is big for Roman Catholic doctrine, that is the bread and wine literally become the body and blood of Jesus.  Ironically, in dialogue among Anglicans and Catholics, both affirmed the principle of transubstantiation, but then could not agree on its definition.  This is not to shade theological ideas or dismiss thoughtful conversation, it is just to say that being sure of something that is a matter of faith can be tricky, as our head cannot always take us where our heart needs to go
 
There is a running argument in the church about children and communion.  On the one hand, we should not cheapen the experience in being too casual or relative, and on the other hand arguing that a child does not understand what they are doing implies that adults do.  When any one of any age knows they belong, and seek to be part of something big and beyond mere explanation, when any one of any age reaches into the sanctuary hands and heart open to receive, Jesus is mightily present. 
 
Driving home the gift and grace of the Eucharist is where John’s Gospel takes us today.  This is his version of the last supper.  His words and images are meant to have shock value.  Eat my flesh and drink my blood.  How can this be they ask, and we do too.  We do not know it all, but we know that touch, and taste, and smell are powerful and evocative senses.  The words John’s Jesus uses have greater meaning than they do in English.  Bread is necessary, life sustaining, and holy food in Hebrew history.  God provided it in the wilderness and helped the people survive the desert.  Bread goes bad fast if it is not broken and eaten.  And wine is a common drink in a world with lots of bad water.  Blood is a big word as it is seen as the life force and energy literally pulsing in our veins.  Jesus tells his people that he comes to be in us and among us.  How can bread and wine become body and blood?  How can a rag tag bunch of imperfect followers become the body of Christ?  These things happen as gift and grace.  We do not control them, earn them, or define what God can and will do.
 
Back in that same school where I started as a chaplain, there was another kid who was new to any kind of prayer.  In one of our lessons, he said that he liked the prayers because they all end with “I’m in.”  He mistook amen for I’m in, and to be honest, that is not bad theology.  The word amen literally means so be it.  And if we listen to what we pray, and take it seriously, it may sound rote, but it is important.  To say amen is to say we are in, we affirm what we pray, and we challenge ourselves to believe what is hard or mysterious.
 
Very soon, it will be our turn to rise, come forward, and take in the very life of Jesus.  Whoever said that we are what we eat is right on.  These are the gifts of God for the people of God.  Are we in?  Yes. Amen.