Holy Communion and Being a Dad

I can't say that growing up the church was the most exciting experience of my childhood. I remember spreading out and falling asleep on the pews. Every word coming out of the preacher's mouth was like a sweet lullaby singing me to sleep.

Most kids would go back to children's church but not me! My parents sure did try with little success. I was shy and preferred to sleep on the pew than to be away from my parents. I think my mom tried to leave me at VBS one summer. That lasted for no more than a day. 

Yet the experience of taking communion has to be the most vivid image of the church. I remember kneeling at the altar taking the wafer and the tiny cup of grape juice. I was also aware that this wasn't an every Sunday experience it was every so often experience. 

This ritual that I remember as a child has become central to my understanding of our worship life together and the type of worship life I long for my children to experience outside of anything else.

I know many pastors that would love to move their church in the direction of receiving the sacrament of Holy Communion more often. 

Although most churches might not acknowledge this... that is why you have someone who is ordained/licensed all the other stuff laity can do. You have them to administer the sacraments. 

Most people will say that it "lacks" meaning when it is taken more often. That answer is flawed in and of itself because the meaning isn't derived from us but from God. Or that it makes the service longer. 

There is a powerful, convicting revelation to this reflection to Holy Communion more often... that it isn't really about God but more so about our own preference. 

Yet what the sacrament does for us is draws our story into God's story. We are woven into this beautiful narrative of God, "when our love failed... your love remained steadfast..." We recognize our own limits and frailty and ask God's spirit to "pour out upon these gifts of bread and wine and make them be FOR us the body and blood of Jesus Christ so that we might be for the world the body of Christ redeemed by his blood." 

Yet the convincing factor for me isn't theology, tradition, or even scripture. 

It is my daughter and son. 

Nothing enlivens me more than to see Laurel cup her hands to receive this beautiful offering from God to her. His life. And to be three years old and to know that she dips and shares in the suffering and sacrifice of God. 

No matter where we are whether in a church space or in someone's backyard she is enlivened by this ritual and sacrament. Hands cupped and ready to receive. 

My hope and dream are to create a church around the Eucharist table. Everything we do as a community I want it to lead back to the Eucharist table. Because I have witnessed God's goodness in my own child and I dream for that same worship experience for others. 

Where is your church at?

One of the first questions that come up in conversations when meeting new people is the "what do you do?" question. Anyone who is a pastor knows that when answering this question a myriad of responses will now occur. Some good and some not so good.

We get responses like we haven't been to church in years or we get to hear about the large, happening church that everyone is going to. Or maybe it is the opposite. The word pastor to some is a complete turn-off. It just might conjure images of judgment and condemnation. The label pastor might come off as someone who is trying to instill religion in any and everyone.

Now I am not only a pastor. I am now a church planter, which adds another layer of complexities to a conversation.

I get this line all the time, "Where is your church at?" Wait? Am I supposed to have an answer for this? I officially started this work yesterday?!?! Should I know the location? Should I make something up? And if so... would that make the church legitimate.

And most of all... why does this question irk me so much?

The church has become synonymous with the institutionalized building. A structure somewhere that people attend once a week if that and who give money to maintain.

A building that often times occupies land tax-free that a local business could utilize and add revenue to the city.

Yet the church that is in my dreams... that wakes me up in the middle of the night is not a building.
It is everywhere I go.

I imagine people at the park gathering around a picnic table to feast and celebrate the Eucharist. Or the coffee shop being transformed for a moment into a worship space where we feast over each other's stories and celebrate the story that breathes life into our story.

Where is the church at? It is here. Right now. In this place. It is not something I create but that God is creating, forming, breathing life into the community.