Alive in April

This month let's reach in close for one event: communion at our church. Communion is a strange and messy part of Christianity. Friends new to Christianity find the blood and guts talk a little strange; our kids find it gruesomely fascinating. We’ve participated in communion practices all around the world: where taking the elements is itself a declaration of trust and faith; where it was the only meal a child experienced that day; where the table welcome (warning?) was so specific and strict that we didn’t feel holy enough to join in; where we were family gathered around a table at the resurrection. Once, a visiting middle schooler friend got bored during the service, tied his shoelace ends around his wrists, didn’t expect the cue to stand up for communion, and ended up shouting and leaping around, which of course tightened the shoelaces around his wrists all the more. Worship, right? I grew up in a more conservative context than our current one, where the bread and juice (never wine) were passed around to the seated congregation, so no one clearly saw who did and didn’t participate. Although we all ate and drank together, it was a very personal, individual experience. 

Seven months!

Ryan's notes

At our current church, which is non-denominational and the members range from a wide variety of countries, we all stream forward in big lines, and receive elements from servers who stand around the front stage. The kids from the nursery re-join the service to participate with their families, usually just at the quietest moment, inviting the sort of chaos that little kids bring when sprinting proudly to their families with flapping paper crafts and crayon drawings. It’s messy and lively, with the lines of those returning to their seats bunching up with those still going forward and people smiling and making way for each other. Being at the end of the service, our kids have usually spread out among friends and aunts and uncles. The baby with one doting auntie-type, the girls scribbling in the notebook of another, and the boy under the seats with legos. We all wander forward together. While at first I rankled at the public nature of the practice - it’s obvious who goes forward and who doesn’t, although no one is counting - I now love the messiness of this living organism. It’s the body at work. 

There are many ways to practice and remember that Jesus died so that we can live, just as there are many delightful families all over the world. The lively mess of communion reminds me that we’re a family. We’re together because God put us together, not because we got to choose each other. And the body is very much alive. 

Preschool entrance ceremony (Ryan's not really that tall..)

As you think of us this month, please join us in praying for our church, as we are in a transitional time, searching for a pastor and re-visioning our identity. It’s a large and well established church by Japanese standards, and we attempt to engage cross-cultural, non-denominational worship in all it’s grit and beauty.