Life’s fretfulness is transcended. The different and the novel are sweet, but regularity and repetition are also teachers
Mary Oliver – on Prayer
SHARING IN A HOUSE COMMUNION with someone temporarily or permanently unable to celebrate Eucharist with the wider household of faith is always a special occasion. Jesus was a genius. Jesus understood the profound significance – for all people, of all faiths and none – of shared elements of sustenance. The sharing makes for connection – and it seems to me that there’s a danger when we try to limit too much what we mean by a “holy communion”. Holy communion, connection, the act of shared hospitality, the “eucharistic” act of thankfulness, for God, for provision, for one another, ought to be wholly – as well as holy – inclusive.
Yesterday I shared in just such a communion. My long-suffering friend who, aided wonderfully by her husband, bears disability and illness with consummate grace, told me simply and quietly upon receiving the sacrament, “Thank you. Now I feel connected again.” Which led on to coffee and biscuits – natural extension of the eucharistic gifts, as lunch and supper would be, later, in every household upon earth, be we, as the old school hymn had it, “low or high” – and a couple of hours whiled away remembering and praying and laughing and hoping and faithing. Believing in life. Communicating. Wholly communion. God is good.
