Breaking Our Eucharistic Fast

On Sunday, those of us who gather to help with the livestream of our church communed together before our pastor went out front to do drive through communion.  I hadn't had communion since March 20, when I decided to pop by the last time our pastor did drive through communion; I had been out buying sketchbooks before everything closed down, and it was on the way.  I didn't think it would be my last time having communion for several months.

There have been months of arguing, at least in some circles, about the best approach to communion.  Can we have Zoom communion?  Do we need to be assembled as a people of faith to make the consecration of the elements possible?  Do we need to have a pastor there?

Books have been written to answer these questions.  Indeed, wars have been fought over these questions--literal wars, if we go back far enough.  So I won't wade into these waters.

Have I missed communion?  Yes.  But I try to have a larger sacramental view.  Where can we see God in the every day elements of our lives?  How can God be revealed in every day ways?

But I am a Lutheran, so it's been strange not to have one of the two sacraments of my church.  We also have not had baptism, but that's never been a weekly sacrament, so I haven't noticed its absence as much.

I wish I could say that I felt infused with grace and that I radiated love since breaking our eucharistic fast on Sunday, but no I didn't experience the sacrament that way.  I usually don't experience the sacrament that way.

Some might say, "Why bother?"  I would say, "Why close off a pathway to be reminded of God's grace?"  Or perhaps I would say, "I don't understand how electricity works or the internal combustion engine works, but I don't want to reject them just because I can't explain them."

I also don't want to close myself off to mystery.  Let me always remain open to mystery.