Communion: Intimate Fellowship and Rapport
Delivered on July 13, 2003 at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Harford County
Opening Words—Definitions of Communion
The word "communion" comes to us from the Latin, communio which means "mutual participation." The modern meanings are many: an act or instance of sharing; intimate fellowship or rapport, and communication; and if used in the formal sense, it is a Christian sacrament in which consecrated bread and wine are consumed as memorials of Christ's death or as symbols for the realization of a spiritual union between Christ and communicant or as the body and blood of Christ.
This last definition is the one most people think of when we utter the word "communion." But really, the Christian sacrament is also a sharing, an intimate fellowship, a rapport with God. Communion need not be a Christian only "sacrament," though. Unitarian Universalists have communion of many types: flower communion, water communion, and when you think about it, our entire form of service is an intimate rapport, and therefore our Sunday morning services themselves are a form of communion.
Other words have similar roots: community (a unified body of individuals that share a common bond), and communication (a process by which information is exchanged between individuals through a common system of symbols, signs, or behavior; a personal rapport). We can see how these words are related, and how the ideas they express are also related. All express a coming together, a unification, a sharing with others. When we come together as a group to share this special thing, this communio, we are celebrating the act of communion, the act of sharing and rapport, celebrating the intimate fellowship that Unitarian Universalism has to offer.
Sermon—A Sharing Union
"Eating and drinking are parts of a universal experience; to exalt this common experience into a unifying human ceremony ought to be seen as useful and worshipful," says editor Carl Seaburg in The Communion Book.
As humans, our lives revolve around eating and drinking. Humans can live about forty days without food, and about three days without water, not long in the grand scheme of things. There are quotes about man being only one meal away from barbarism. Food is often linked to the Divine. Norman Kolpas said, "Food, like a loving touch or a glimpse of divine power, has that ability to comfort." Frederick W. Hackwood said, "A good meal soothes the soul as it regenerates the body. From the abundance of it flows a benign benevolence." Frances Moor Lappe wrote, "The act of putting into your mouth what the earth has grown is perhaps your most direct interaction with the earth."
Many religions and belief systems celebrate the Divine through the sharing of a sacred meal. The Greeks had Theoxinia where the Gods were invited to eat at their tables. The Romans celebrated lectisternia, which included a statue of Jupiter being placed on a couch propped up by pillows, flanked on either side by the Goddesses Minerva and Juno. The followers of Mithras also celebrated a sacred meal, as did the Egyptian followers of Isis and Osiris. The Jews have a seder, where bitter herbs and unleavened bread are shared. Christians eat the body and blood of Jesus as a way of remembering his sacrifice for them. As you can see, there are as many ways of celebrating communion, or intimate fellowship, with one's God (or Goddess, as the case may be).
Food and drink is linked inexorably with celebration in our culture. How many of you ate special foods to celebrate Independence Day? There is the traditional cake for celebrating a birthday. We eat turkey at Thanksgiving. Lamb is often served around Easter or Spring Equinox. Christmas finds us devouring ham and puddings. The list goes on. Food and celebration go together, and never the twain shall part.
We, as Unitarian Universalists, have our own communion meal which we share almost every Sunday: the after-service coffee hour. You may be chuckling to yourself, but it fulfills the purpose of a sacred meal. It brings us together, in community, sharing our lives, our thoughts, and our hearts. It is the time when we, as a group, as a congregation, invite new guests to join us, to ask us questions and find out what we believe. We sometimes enjoy meaty conversations about the day's sermon.
Intimate fellowship and rapport. Learning to share together, rather than stay apart. In the Story for All Ages today, Stone Soup, we heard about a village that learned to open their doors to others, and thereby share their wealth. Truly a communion meal. Judith Sargeant Murray (the wife of pioneer Universalist minister, John Murray, and a noted author in her own right), in 1782 wrote that a communion meal symbolizes the many being gathered into the one. Many grains are gathered together into one loaf, just as the scattered individuals of humanity are gathered together in one God. Many grapes are pressed together into one drink, just as the spirits of the human race become one with God. Pretty radical for 1782. It embodies the idea of communion, though, as well as the base ideas of Unitarian Universalism:
When we commune with one another, we celebrate each and every one of our guiding principles! After all, you can't share a sacred meal with someone who is unworthy of being human. You cannot be comfortable to commune together when there is injustice or inequality present at a meal. In sipping coffee together, or sharing in bread and juice, we are accepting one another's beliefs, and engendering spiritual growth. It helps us search for the meaning of truth, for each of us, both separately and as a group. It encourages us to work together, thereby strengthening the democratic process. It's hard to be at war with someone who just had a cup of coffee and a donut with you. And respecting the web of existence is inherent in the sharing of the bread, created from the grains grown in the earth, and the juice or wine, fermented from the grapes grown by our own hands.
Rev. Jan K. Nielsen writes, "Our communion service is a time of remembrance, a time for remembering all those whose lives have touched ours, people who were there for us at turning points, people whose love has made a difference in our lives. We may think of parents and grandparents, friends that stood by us, perhaps that special teacher who helped us to find our life's calling." Our service of communion is a time of thanksgiving, a time to give thanks for the gifts of bread and drink, the gift of love, the gift of life. We give thanks for the gift of community. When we come together to break bread and drink the juice of the fruit, we are reminded of our common humanity. Our communion service is a time of commitment. As we share the bread and the cup, we can commit ourselves to the way of love, for it is love that just might bring light to our hurting world. As Unitarian Universalists, we do not turn anyone away from communion. We see it not as an exclusionary meal, but an inclusionary one! We say, "All are worthy. All are welcome at our table."
So I invite you to join me, to share in a sacred meal. Please come up, take a cup of juice, and a piece of bread. Sit quietly a moment and eat and drink. Say a private, silent thanks to those who have helped you in your lives. Remember those who have passed on, and those who are yet to come. Make a commitment, to yourself, to do the important things, like going for a walk and enjoying the bounty of nature around you, or playing with a child, or cuddling up to watch a favorite movie with a loved one.
This Bread I Break
This bread I break was once the oat,
This wine upon a foreign tree
Plunged in its fruit;
Man in the day or wind at night
Laid the crops low, broke the grape's joy.
Once in this wine the summer blood
Knocked in the flesh that decked the vine,
Once in this bread
The oat was merry in the wind;
Man broke the sun, pulled the wind down.
This flesh you break, this blood you let
Make desolation in the vein,
Were oat and grape
Born of the sensual root and sap;
My wine you drink, my bread you snap.
—Dylan Thomas, Collected Poems
[Break bread into pieces. Pause while people get bread and juice.]
Now I invite you to take a moment, and turn to the people around you, and greet them. It might be that you are sitting beside an old friend, or a newcomer to our congregation. Take the time to say welcome, and thanks for being with us.
Thank you!
I would like to finish with a short story that Rev. Jan K. Nielsen shared in an article on her congregation's website. She entitled it "Who is my neighbor?" She writes:
The first communion service I ever led was not in a sanctuary, but at a hospital bedside, and it was a Universalist Communion.
I went to see a man scheduled for surgery the next morning. I remember him as a congenial fellow, tanned, fit, in good spirits. We talked about golf, and his grandchildren, and then he began recalling memories of his Presbyterian childhood. And then he said, "You know, I would like to receive communion again." He had married a Catholic woman, and had attended services with her for years. In all that time, he could not receive communion in her church because he was not a Catholic. Now this is the point in the story where the Unitarian Universalist chaplain inwardly starts to panic. "What do I do now?" I thought. I had never served communion before. But his story touched the Universalist in me; I wanted to help. So I scurried back to the chaplain's office and after some instruction from my Lutheran colleague, I returned the next day with everything needed to lead a communion service. When we arrived, his Catholic wife and Unitarian Universalist daughter were there. So we all gathered around—a Presbyterian, a Catholic, a Lutheran, and two Unitarian Universalists—all sharing a sacred meal, as people have done for generations. It was truly a Universalist communion, a bridge built across the chasm of difference. A month later a note came from his daughter. Her father had died. "He was so grateful," she wrote, "to once again receive communion. Thank you." At that communion, I learned how deeply the human heart can yearn for rituals that connect us with one another.
When I originally read this story, I was profoundly moved. It examined the deep reasoning behind communion with God and with others, without pushing a particular faith. Because it came from a UU minister, and someone who works in the field in a very practical manner (hospital work is considered "boot camp for ministers" by most people working in religious fields), it touches on how important communion can be for us, as Unitarian Universalists, and as human beings who need to reach out to others.
The need to feel closer, to both God and our brothers and sisters of differing and similar faiths, transcends religion. Instead, it bridges the gap, as Rev. Nielsen suggested, showing us that we can all share a table together. Our successes can be enjoyed with our congregation, our sorrows and failures commiserated about as a group. When we come up to the front to light a candle, during the candles of sharing, we are asking for support and love from this community, and at the same time, we may also be asking Deity to lend us a helping hand as well.
Communion is celebrated in many ways. For some, it is a formal acknowledgement of one's dependency on God, an asking for forgiveness, a thanking of Deity for gifts given. For others, it is a community event, sharing love and warmth. Still others see it as a way to stop wars and bring about peace.
Whatever communion means to you, I offer blessings to you, and hope that you bless me in return.
Closing Prayer
God of Many Names and Faiths, we thank you, for inviting us and people of all spiritual paths, ages, abilities, races, economic levels, sexual orientations and fellowships into this community of love and healing; and for always being present with us in the breaking of bread. We have taken a small piece of the Divine within ourselves, and offered a small piece of ourselves to each other. We are clothed in the strength of this community. We shall not be down-trodden. We shall not be left alone. We shall not be overwhelmed. Go in peace and love. Amen.
Opening Words—Definitions of Communion
The word "communion" comes to us from the Latin, communio which means "mutual participation." The modern meanings are many: an act or instance of sharing; intimate fellowship or rapport, and communication; and if used in the formal sense, it is a Christian sacrament in which consecrated bread and wine are consumed as memorials of Christ's death or as symbols for the realization of a spiritual union between Christ and communicant or as the body and blood of Christ.
This last definition is the one most people think of when we utter the word "communion." But really, the Christian sacrament is also a sharing, an intimate fellowship, a rapport with God. Communion need not be a Christian only "sacrament," though. Unitarian Universalists have communion of many types: flower communion, water communion, and when you think about it, our entire form of service is an intimate rapport, and therefore our Sunday morning services themselves are a form of communion.
Other words have similar roots: community (a unified body of individuals that share a common bond), and communication (a process by which information is exchanged between individuals through a common system of symbols, signs, or behavior; a personal rapport). We can see how these words are related, and how the ideas they express are also related. All express a coming together, a unification, a sharing with others. When we come together as a group to share this special thing, this communio, we are celebrating the act of communion, the act of sharing and rapport, celebrating the intimate fellowship that Unitarian Universalism has to offer.
Sermon—A Sharing Union
"Eating and drinking are parts of a universal experience; to exalt this common experience into a unifying human ceremony ought to be seen as useful and worshipful," says editor Carl Seaburg in The Communion Book.
As humans, our lives revolve around eating and drinking. Humans can live about forty days without food, and about three days without water, not long in the grand scheme of things. There are quotes about man being only one meal away from barbarism. Food is often linked to the Divine. Norman Kolpas said, "Food, like a loving touch or a glimpse of divine power, has that ability to comfort." Frederick W. Hackwood said, "A good meal soothes the soul as it regenerates the body. From the abundance of it flows a benign benevolence." Frances Moor Lappe wrote, "The act of putting into your mouth what the earth has grown is perhaps your most direct interaction with the earth."
Many religions and belief systems celebrate the Divine through the sharing of a sacred meal. The Greeks had Theoxinia where the Gods were invited to eat at their tables. The Romans celebrated lectisternia, which included a statue of Jupiter being placed on a couch propped up by pillows, flanked on either side by the Goddesses Minerva and Juno. The followers of Mithras also celebrated a sacred meal, as did the Egyptian followers of Isis and Osiris. The Jews have a seder, where bitter herbs and unleavened bread are shared. Christians eat the body and blood of Jesus as a way of remembering his sacrifice for them. As you can see, there are as many ways of celebrating communion, or intimate fellowship, with one's God (or Goddess, as the case may be).
Food and drink is linked inexorably with celebration in our culture. How many of you ate special foods to celebrate Independence Day? There is the traditional cake for celebrating a birthday. We eat turkey at Thanksgiving. Lamb is often served around Easter or Spring Equinox. Christmas finds us devouring ham and puddings. The list goes on. Food and celebration go together, and never the twain shall part.
We, as Unitarian Universalists, have our own communion meal which we share almost every Sunday: the after-service coffee hour. You may be chuckling to yourself, but it fulfills the purpose of a sacred meal. It brings us together, in community, sharing our lives, our thoughts, and our hearts. It is the time when we, as a group, as a congregation, invite new guests to join us, to ask us questions and find out what we believe. We sometimes enjoy meaty conversations about the day's sermon.
Intimate fellowship and rapport. Learning to share together, rather than stay apart. In the Story for All Ages today, Stone Soup, we heard about a village that learned to open their doors to others, and thereby share their wealth. Truly a communion meal. Judith Sargeant Murray (the wife of pioneer Universalist minister, John Murray, and a noted author in her own right), in 1782 wrote that a communion meal symbolizes the many being gathered into the one. Many grains are gathered together into one loaf, just as the scattered individuals of humanity are gathered together in one God. Many grapes are pressed together into one drink, just as the spirits of the human race become one with God. Pretty radical for 1782. It embodies the idea of communion, though, as well as the base ideas of Unitarian Universalism:
- The inherent worth and dignity of every person;
- Justice, equity and compassion in human relations;
- Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations;
- A free and responsible search for truth and meaning;
- The right of conscience and the use of the democratic process within our congregations and in society at large;
- The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all;
- Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.
When we commune with one another, we celebrate each and every one of our guiding principles! After all, you can't share a sacred meal with someone who is unworthy of being human. You cannot be comfortable to commune together when there is injustice or inequality present at a meal. In sipping coffee together, or sharing in bread and juice, we are accepting one another's beliefs, and engendering spiritual growth. It helps us search for the meaning of truth, for each of us, both separately and as a group. It encourages us to work together, thereby strengthening the democratic process. It's hard to be at war with someone who just had a cup of coffee and a donut with you. And respecting the web of existence is inherent in the sharing of the bread, created from the grains grown in the earth, and the juice or wine, fermented from the grapes grown by our own hands.
Rev. Jan K. Nielsen writes, "Our communion service is a time of remembrance, a time for remembering all those whose lives have touched ours, people who were there for us at turning points, people whose love has made a difference in our lives. We may think of parents and grandparents, friends that stood by us, perhaps that special teacher who helped us to find our life's calling." Our service of communion is a time of thanksgiving, a time to give thanks for the gifts of bread and drink, the gift of love, the gift of life. We give thanks for the gift of community. When we come together to break bread and drink the juice of the fruit, we are reminded of our common humanity. Our communion service is a time of commitment. As we share the bread and the cup, we can commit ourselves to the way of love, for it is love that just might bring light to our hurting world. As Unitarian Universalists, we do not turn anyone away from communion. We see it not as an exclusionary meal, but an inclusionary one! We say, "All are worthy. All are welcome at our table."
So I invite you to join me, to share in a sacred meal. Please come up, take a cup of juice, and a piece of bread. Sit quietly a moment and eat and drink. Say a private, silent thanks to those who have helped you in your lives. Remember those who have passed on, and those who are yet to come. Make a commitment, to yourself, to do the important things, like going for a walk and enjoying the bounty of nature around you, or playing with a child, or cuddling up to watch a favorite movie with a loved one.
This Bread I Break
This bread I break was once the oat,
This wine upon a foreign tree
Plunged in its fruit;
Man in the day or wind at night
Laid the crops low, broke the grape's joy.
Once in this wine the summer blood
Knocked in the flesh that decked the vine,
Once in this bread
The oat was merry in the wind;
Man broke the sun, pulled the wind down.
This flesh you break, this blood you let
Make desolation in the vein,
Were oat and grape
Born of the sensual root and sap;
My wine you drink, my bread you snap.
—Dylan Thomas, Collected Poems
[Break bread into pieces. Pause while people get bread and juice.]
Now I invite you to take a moment, and turn to the people around you, and greet them. It might be that you are sitting beside an old friend, or a newcomer to our congregation. Take the time to say welcome, and thanks for being with us.
Thank you!
I would like to finish with a short story that Rev. Jan K. Nielsen shared in an article on her congregation's website. She entitled it "Who is my neighbor?" She writes:
The first communion service I ever led was not in a sanctuary, but at a hospital bedside, and it was a Universalist Communion.
I went to see a man scheduled for surgery the next morning. I remember him as a congenial fellow, tanned, fit, in good spirits. We talked about golf, and his grandchildren, and then he began recalling memories of his Presbyterian childhood. And then he said, "You know, I would like to receive communion again." He had married a Catholic woman, and had attended services with her for years. In all that time, he could not receive communion in her church because he was not a Catholic. Now this is the point in the story where the Unitarian Universalist chaplain inwardly starts to panic. "What do I do now?" I thought. I had never served communion before. But his story touched the Universalist in me; I wanted to help. So I scurried back to the chaplain's office and after some instruction from my Lutheran colleague, I returned the next day with everything needed to lead a communion service. When we arrived, his Catholic wife and Unitarian Universalist daughter were there. So we all gathered around—a Presbyterian, a Catholic, a Lutheran, and two Unitarian Universalists—all sharing a sacred meal, as people have done for generations. It was truly a Universalist communion, a bridge built across the chasm of difference. A month later a note came from his daughter. Her father had died. "He was so grateful," she wrote, "to once again receive communion. Thank you." At that communion, I learned how deeply the human heart can yearn for rituals that connect us with one another.
When I originally read this story, I was profoundly moved. It examined the deep reasoning behind communion with God and with others, without pushing a particular faith. Because it came from a UU minister, and someone who works in the field in a very practical manner (hospital work is considered "boot camp for ministers" by most people working in religious fields), it touches on how important communion can be for us, as Unitarian Universalists, and as human beings who need to reach out to others.
The need to feel closer, to both God and our brothers and sisters of differing and similar faiths, transcends religion. Instead, it bridges the gap, as Rev. Nielsen suggested, showing us that we can all share a table together. Our successes can be enjoyed with our congregation, our sorrows and failures commiserated about as a group. When we come up to the front to light a candle, during the candles of sharing, we are asking for support and love from this community, and at the same time, we may also be asking Deity to lend us a helping hand as well.
Communion is celebrated in many ways. For some, it is a formal acknowledgement of one's dependency on God, an asking for forgiveness, a thanking of Deity for gifts given. For others, it is a community event, sharing love and warmth. Still others see it as a way to stop wars and bring about peace.
Whatever communion means to you, I offer blessings to you, and hope that you bless me in return.
Closing Prayer
God of Many Names and Faiths, we thank you, for inviting us and people of all spiritual paths, ages, abilities, races, economic levels, sexual orientations and fellowships into this community of love and healing; and for always being present with us in the breaking of bread. We have taken a small piece of the Divine within ourselves, and offered a small piece of ourselves to each other. We are clothed in the strength of this community. We shall not be down-trodden. We shall not be left alone. We shall not be overwhelmed. Go in peace and love. Amen.
