Communion

When it came time for communion at the church I attended for the first 20+ years of my life, there were men who'd pass the plates around from pew to pew. We'd take the bread as it was passed and wait and take the cup together. I am assuming this was because it was a pretty big church given the size of my town and waiting for everyone to go up to the front would have taken eons.

I was seriously about 29 years old before I went to a church that regularly had you come up front for communion. And the church we attend now does it this way as well. We go up front, get the cup and the bread and go back to our seats in a wildly disorganized fashion, and wait there to partake together.

But last Sunday was different. I'm not sure if it's because there's a new head chaplain or the especially brutal flu season, but we were passed the plates by ushers this week.

Now I have attended this church for nearly 3 years. I KNOW that we take the bread and the cup together.

But when I was handed that communion plate on Sunday, I took that cracker and stuffed it in my face as quickly as possible as the usher waited with the plate of cups. Just like I did ever Sunday from my 9th until my 23rd year. I sat trying to hide my crunching and giggling to myself as I was supposed to be praying, and then decided to own it when everyone broke the bread and I just sat there.

It seemed to funny to me that of all the things I'm sure my parents would have liked to think I reverted back to from my decidedly Christian upbringing, the only thing that is really an automatic reaction is consuming the body of Christ as quickly as possible so I can keep the juice train flowing.

Also, I just realized how creepy it is to write "consuming the body of Christ."