Primitive religion is not believed, it is danced!

Arthur Darby Nock

Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
And only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.

Elizabeth Browning

Saturday, June 1, 2013

Thoughts the Day Before Communion

The Lord’s Supper

In the little outpost of the Kingdom
That meets in Lostine, Oregon
We will break bread
And share the cup

We will hear words we have heard before
And mutter words we have said before

Bread and juice (no wine for us Presbyterians)
Body and blood

And then we will walk out the door, and?


There is a promise implicit in those word
The promise of something deep

The promise of union
Of being united with the Sacred in a way that transforms
And changes

Transformed by a love that “just is”                               
That does not come because we are good, and deserve it
Or because we are bad and need it,
But just comes

Transformed by a love that sets us free
So that we may come to the table joyfully, dancing, singing,
Because we have no ground for feeling God does not love us. 

Transformed by a love
A union
A presence
That unites us not only with God, but with one another

Just as the goal of our love for God, and God’s love for us is union
So the goal of our transformed,
bread and wine fueled
love for each other
should be union

Where the other’s joy becomes our joy
The others hope our hope
The other’s pain our pain

In communion
There is the promise of being fed
And the promise of becoming food
As Christ feeds us
We feed each other

and find

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