Today’s post is guest-blogged by my wonderful husband.
True story. Sunday, Aug 19th, 2007…
First, some background:
“Hi, I’m Anglican. And Lutheran. Is that possible?” Well, for the sake of argument, let’s just say that it is and I am. Point is, I loves me some liturgy, and I take the Eucharist pretty seriously. I believe in consubstantiation, not to put too fine a point on it. So, I was more than a little nervous when my 2 year old, S, reached out a grabbed a wedge of unleavened bread from the paten at last week’s holy communion, until he turned to me and said, “Look, Daddy, Jesus bread.” At that point I figured he’s got the concept pretty good, even if he is basically just parroting the words of his older sister (which I was sure must have been the case). So I let him eat it.
However, I had worked up a fairly good case of regret about that over the course of the week, and by Sunday, I KNEW that I was going to have a tough decision to make, and enforcing it was likely going to cause the screams of a two-year old to reverberate throughout the sanctuary (like we don’t already disturb the service enough when he comes in at the passing of the peace yelling “I want trEATS!”). So, needless to say, I went into the service not particularly looking forward to holy communion–which is not the way one really wants to approach this, or any other, sacrament.
OK, now onto the story:
It’s Sunday. I’m in church, and it’s sermon time. Today’s topic? Well, wouldn’t ya know it, it’s about the Eucharist, and the dangers of not taking it seriously. The damning consequences, actually. This was a part of a larger discourse about being led astray, a kind of hell-fire and brimstone sermon, which is really unlike our pastor. And, yes, he did leave room for grace, but it was still pretty stern, let me tell you! I was thinking that I don’t really understand/ am not worthy of taking the Eucharist myself, much less my 2 year old son! So, sermon’s over, then creed, prayers, the offering, the Eucharistic prayers, passing of the peace (”trEATS, mommy, I want trEATS!”) and it’s time to head up to the rail. I still haven’t done a thing to prepare S for NOT getting bread and wine–I’m pretty much too wrapped up in my own self-pity (yeah, so what else is new?). Anyway, I’m letting Lainey take care of S. So, we get to the rail, and the congregation starts singing “Jesus Loves Me.”
“Jesus Loves Me,” people.
Our Anglican church, the one whose Offertory Hymns are mostly in Latin (believe me, I know), and rarely sings anything written after 1850, is singing “Jesus Loves Me.” …During the Eucharist…and after that sermon…and guess what S makes you sing every night at bedtime?
“I’ll take ‘Jesus Loves Me’ for a thousand, Alex”
>bing!<
Of course, S recognizes this immediately, does a big gasp, and turns to me saying “Jesus loves me, Daddy, Jesus loves me!” After which he turns and takes a piece of bread (at this point I’m nodding to the paten bearer, trying to telepathically send him the message ‘Don’t even think about passing over S with that paten!’ (which he didn’t). And then the cup comes and S wants to take a sip of that, too, which he did. His first full holy communion. And no spit takes! And get this–and I promise you this is still a true story–he then turned to Lainey and said, “Jesus, loves you, Mommy,” and then, as we sat down, he came to me and said, “Jesus loves you, Daddy.”
And, in that moment, I felt God telling me, “You know, it’s not really about how complicated you want to make it, it’s about how simple I make it.”
Make sure you enter my End of Summer Giveaway this week!
Yes, yes, and for good measure, another yes. God is so smart. Especially at showing us how unsmart we can be (I’m using the Imperial We - really I mean “me” but it feels better to implicate others)
Nicely said. Thank you (Peace be with you)
Let the little ones come unto me…
♥
M
God’s not afraid or offended by a two year old. ’nuff said ’bout that.
loved your guest post. Good thoughts.
Aw. God uses children to teach us so many things. I love the last sentence you wrote.
Absolutely sweet! I too lived in horror of my son grabbing the “crackers and juice in a baby cup”–so much so that I started sending him to Children’s Worship instead of letting him sit with us. I use “sit” loosely, as his bottom rarely touched the pew. I may have to rethink this…they get more than we give them credit for sometimes!
What a great post! Thank you. It is such a challenge where I am - where people grew up with the idea that until you could recite the Catechism from memory, you couldn’t commune - to convince them that little children can indeed understand. And there is nothing worse, as a pastor, then hearing a little child walk away from the table saying “But I want some Jesus, too.”