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Australian Christian Resources |
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If the church building had walls, instead of UN tarps, they would have shaken with the sound of praise pouring from two hundred people - smiling with joy in a patched-together shed in a shanty town in the Horn of Africa.
After four hours, worship ended. A little old lady came up to me with a smile of welcome and said through my translator, ‘Sorry’. She said she didn’t know why church this day had gone so long. Normally they finished in just three hours!
The people here had so little - yet found so much to praise God for.
Another Sunday in the same region of Africa, albeit a different church, we celebrated the Lord’s Supper. Now, my church upbringing had taught me the Lord’s Supper was serious business. And that after receiving this precious meal, the right thing to do was to humble my head in my hands, sink myself into sombre reflection, and ponder my many (many) shortcomings. So that’s what I did in the church in the Horn of Africa.
Deep in pondering I got a shock when the Pastor stopped the service straight after distributing the elements. I felt he was looking right at me when he said words to the effect: “I see some of you with your heads in your hands, looking down after you have received this meal. Look up. This is a joyful occasion! The price has been paid. Grace is yours. Be happy. Celebrate!”. And so, now I do.
Those moments in Africa may be a long way from wherever you are, and whatever is your tradition for sharing in the Lord’s Supper. I know those moments feel a world away from the Christian College where I first received communion when I was 13 years old … and even further from my childhood memories of sober-hatted best-suited people clustering outside the hundred year old church building for prayer and admonition before the Divine Service where the Lord’s Supper was distributed in ‘tables’.
Yet somehow, whether an ocean or culture or lifetime apart, there is a connection we share as sisters and brothers in Christ, a connection that reaches its greatest intimacy as we join together at the Lord’s Table. Such a precious gift.
A gift that COVID took away from many of us for a time. Sharing in the Lord’s Supper was at best impractical, and at worst impossible. One thing COVID did though, was remind us that in times of challenge, communities need to find ways to work together. To uncover new solutions. To fix problems. To protect those who may not be blessed with the same health or strength as us.
I’m not just thinking people now, I’m thinking the planet too. These last few years seem to have brought more headlines than ever of people hurt by fire and flood and drought and disaster. In my work, I’ve seen that too often the people hurt worst are those already doing it hard - like the people I joined in worship in that tarp-walled church in the Horn of Africa. In those places, a family’s daily food is what they can grow, which means changing climate can be a life and death threat.
Looking at challenges like this, it can all seem too big and too hard.
COVID. Changing climate. Finding community in the face of endless promotion of self-interest first, last and always, by social media.
What I’ve learned through working to help people in the world’s developing countries is to simply look at what we can do, where we are, with what we have. That’s why when I heard about ACR’s biodegradable communion cups, I thought ‘Now there’s a good idea’. Zero carbon footprint. Using a waste resource to make something useful. Returning to the earth to grow something new. Protecting our planet as we protect people in this new COVID world.
For me, small simple acts of care and consideration like this show our community that our words of love are authentic, because they come to life in action.
Humble and quiet perhaps, but real.
Which brings me to another church. My local church, just a suburb from home. A building shared between five different denominations. Maybe we’re just like you, an interesting mix. Some among us are too fragile to leave their seats for the Lord’s Supper. Others grieve a lost lifelong partner. Parents struggle to persuade teens out of bed. Little ones get hungry halfway through. And then there’s Carly.
Carly celebrated her 40th birthday a year or two ago, but her intellectual age could not make it past 10. Carly loves coming up front for the Children’s Address, and always has an unexpected answer (or question) for whatever question may be asked. Carly also loves to give hugs, including for Pastor Kevin when he’s halfway through his message.
What Carly likes most though is collecting the communion cups from each person after we have celebrated the Lord’s Supper. This is how she blesses us. When she takes each cup, she gives back a smile.
A simple act. A generous kindness.
For me, that’s how the world changes. Smile by smile. Act by act. Kindness by kindness. And if Carly could ever get together with that elderly lady from that church in the Horn of Africa, I reckon the sound of praise could give even the brick walls of our church building a good rattling.
Jonathan Krause
Author and Community Action Manager at Australian Lutheran World Service (ALWS)
