Come to the Table

I've been musing on ecumenical 'stuff' of late. In January I sat for the PC(USA) Ordination Exams. A bigger feat than I had anticipated. I had about 10 days to study and prepare. And in those 10 days I was newly reminded of why God has called me to this particular tradition. That alone was worth all the time and effort! This is not to say that I do not value and treasure my Catholic past, I hold that part of me near and dear.

I like to say (and think!) that I have been given a unique opportunity to "walk on both sides of the street of Christianity." Indeed, my journey has given me the chance to study and know rather deeply the theology of both the Catholic side of the street as well as the catholic (Protestant) side of the street. What strikes me is how much more we have in common from the view of the middle of the street, rather than just one side of the street. As well, I am continually struck by the role language plays. I used to quip that I needed a "Catholic/Protestant dictionary" and that remains true. What one side means by sanctification, the other side means by a life of holiness. What one side means by confession, the other side means by creed. What one side means by sanctuary, the other side means by church. And on it goes.

But what has been perhaps the greatest gift, is to read the theologians of each tradition, and understand as well as appreciate, how they came to their way of thinking. And while they come to very different conclusions in many cases, my personal gift has been the chance to see, understand, and accept the truth that lies in each argument, in each conclusion, in each doctrine or confession. And what this has done for me personally is to deeply expand my ecumenical thinking.

Of course, for most traditions, deep conflict arose in the 1500s over the theology of the table. What is communion? What does it mean to partake of the body and blood of Christ? What happens in that sacrament? The two traditions I have been most closely related to take a very similar and a very different approach to these questions. For the Catholics, Christ is most really and physically present in communion. So much so, that the elements of bread and wine don't really exist after the consecration at the altar. For the Presbyterians, Christ is most really and spiritually present in communion. So much so, that the mystery of the table is undefinable. Both traditions land in a place of saying this mystery of Eucharist binds all Christians together across time and space. They are bound to each other and bound to Christ. Both traditions land in a place that understands that we are nourished at the table in a way no other meal can feed us. But for the Catholics, this difference is one that they feel must be respected at the table; only those that hold their belief and understanding can partake. For the Presbyterians, there is a more open approach that invites all baptized who believe in Christ Jesus to come to the table. And at the end of the day, I ask, who can really truly KNOW how Christ is present in communion? But at least for me, both these traditions affirm the belief of a real presence of Christ at the table. Both of these traditions affirm the miraculous mystery and sacramental nature of Eucharist.

Last November the Vesper's planning team decided to celebrate communion following our traditional fellowship Thanksgiving meal. The idea was to move from the secular table to the sacred table, all in the same evening. We decided we would actually build the communion table and set it as part of the Vespers service. The hope was that these activities would highlight the nature of community that is present in the sacrament. Once the table was 'set' we would sit down, gathered around it as if at home. We would share the stories of communion from our faith history, much as we all share beloved family stories at our Thanksgiving meals at home. A time for sharing and remembering all that God has done for us in this sacrament. And then we would celebrate and share communion together.

Building and setting the table proved to be the chaos I had hoped for. The gathered community decided to build the table running up the center aisle of the church, with a 'T' at the head. That way we could all sit together and all see each other. We then set the table with white cloths, candles, yeast sprinkled around, grapes, bread, wine, cup and plate. It was stunning when it was complete! I wished I had a camera. The better part was the wonder and awe of the planning team, who had had a bit of a struggle picturing how all this would get done without any pre-plan!

We then sat down together. It was cramped, but we had chairs for all, as well as one extra to symbolize Jesus at the table with us. I had spread scriptures that covered the story from manna in the dessert through the Last Supper and the story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus around the table. People would take turns reading the scriptures in order, to tell our faith family story of communion from the earliest days of the Israelites through the resurrection of our Lord. And here is where the Spirit really seemed to enter the room! Children started reading...struggling with the names and some of the words, but eager to be the ones to share the story of our faith. A little one no more than five, not being able to read, announced that we should all hold hands. And so around the table we made one big circle of contact as we listened to the scriptures and then shared our thoughts as we heard each story.

As the telling of our tradition unfolded, people kept coming in to join us. At first, I had that 'oh no what will we do?' flip in my stomach. There was barely space for elbows at the table when we started. It was key that we all sit together at ONE table. So as each new person arrived, I quietly jumped up to grab another chair and find a spot. Or my husband at the other end of the table would do the chair addition. And then someone else would come in. And then someone else. And then another. And by then my stomach had quit flipping and I had quietly walked into what the Irish call thin space; that space where heaven and earth meet, and it is hard to distinguish one from the other. And when we were finished, eight new people had joined us, and somehow there was room for all at the table!

I keep going back to this night in my heart and in my mind. I can honestly tell you there was NOT room to add eight more people to that table. And I can honestly tell you we DID add eight more people to that table! A miracle before my eyes. The miraculous mystery of the sacrament; room for all....with the moving of the Spirit. Will we be able to say this as different traditions some day? Will there be room for all at the same table some day? That night gives me the deepest of hopes!