Getting Tipsy at Communion

Before I got married, one of the things I envisioned about my marriage was to serve with my husband in ministry.  I am beginning to lose count of the ways that God has answered that prayer.  Andrew and I embarked on yet another ministry opportunity together a few weeks ago - serving as worship leaders in our church.  For many of you, I know that title brings visions of Andrew and I standing at the front of the church singing and leading praise choruses for the church - and that would probably move it from a ministry to a miracle.  In our church, worship leaders help lead prayers, read Scripture and assist the priests with serving communion. 

I was doing pretty well my first day on the job - remembering when to stand, kneel, turn, bow - until we got to communion.  That's when it all fell apart.  Again, for those of you who know me, yep, that means crying.  My task was simply to offer the communion cup (yes, we all drink from the same cup) and say, "The Blood of Christ, the Cup of Salvation."  I thought my biggest hurdle would be not pouring wine down someone's front.  Boy, was I wrong.  It quickly became not freaking people out as I came up to them with shaking cup blubbering like a baby. 

You may be asking yourself, what about this weird religious exercise could possibly bring someone to such a state of tears.  Well, first off. . . Hi, my name is Kathryn and the Hallmark crown makes me burst into tears.  But beyond that, and much more importantly, is something my priest said once, "The Eucharist is the Body of Christ coming together to take the Body of Christ."  I love that imagery and carry it with me every Sunday as I go down to the rail with the other members of my church; as we all come to Jesus.  But then to be on the other side of the rail, serving the Body of Christ - looking into the faces of those who have prayed for me and with me, laughed with me, supported me through ups and downs and served me Sunday after Sunday.  It was so beautiful, I just couldn't contain it and I rejoice in those tears for a church body that I love dearly. 

And to cap it all off, after the last person has been served, I joined hands with my husband, my partner in ministry, before the altar and bowed in reverence to Lord who allows me to serve in such a sacred manner. 

*For the record, I may have forgotten the words the first time, but I did not spill wine on anyone.

Oh, yeah, did I mention the color robes we wear too?