on being denied the eucharist (for r. pater)

when prophets are denied,
as they so often are,
they shake the dust from their sandals
and board when their rows are called.

watching from your plane, you see
the mountains shepherd the sunset into darkness.
lightning drives cracks into the midnight sky.
just for a moment the vast forest
is there -
a revelation
followed by thunder that rolls away
like a resurrection.

when a wind comes hurling accusations
against your plane, the trees huddled
on the mountainside suddenly seem
alarmingly close.

in denver, brushing tears
from your eyes, you exit the plane, and
discover you were never in
any real danger after all

for in a room at the airport,
in a gathering of two or three,
the bread and wine are
freely given to you
so that the darkness is pierced,

and through this wound in the sky,

the moon rises.



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Visit sarcastic lutheran to read the post that inspired the poem.

Namaste.

Eucharist, Ignatius and Doubt

"Take note of those who hold heterodox opinions on the grace of Jesus Christ which has come to us, and see how contrary their opinions are to the mind of God. . . . They abstain from the Eucharist and from prayer because they do not confess that the Eucharist is the flesh of our Savior Jesus Christ, flesh which suffered for our sins and which that Father, in his goodness, raised up again. They who deny the gift of God are perishing in their disputes. — Letter to the Smyrnaeans 6:2–7:1 - Ignatius of Antioch

I am not sure at all what I think of the Eucharist.Ignatius certainly had his clear cut view.  

On Ash Wednesday, it is not so clear at all to me.  I cannot remember exactly what Nadia says when she hands me the bread to dip in the wine and eat. Something like "this is the body of Christ that is given for you..." But I know that she is fierce and fully present when she says it in a way that no priest of my catholic upbringing ever did. And she means it in a way that cuts down doubt like a scythe.

I do know that I was honored that Nadia asked Charlotte and I to make the communion bread.  The very bread that would at least be blessed and perhaps does become the very body of Christ in substance.  Perhaps it doesn't matter, though I have a feeling wars figurative and literal have been fought over this point.  

In any case it was good bread.  The recipe is simple and I list it hear in case anyone else has to bake some communion bread and would like it to not taste like the anemic white wafers that are so loved in so many churches.

Dry Ingredients

Blend together the following ingredients and sift them three times:

2 cups whole wheat flour

1 cup unbleached white flour

1 1/4 tsp baking powder

1 1/4 tsp salt

Stir in 4 tsp of vegetable oil and set aside.

Wet Ingredients

Mix together until dissolved:

3/4 cup of water plus 2 Tbsp of very hot water

3 Tbsp honey

3 Tbsp molasses

Add the wet to the dry and mix well.  Dough should be sticky.  But don't actually knead it.  Divide into four balls and flatten each into a 1/4 inch thick disk.

Score the top of each loaf with a cross.

Bake at 350 for 10 minutes. Remove from oven and brush the tops of the loaves with some vegetable oil.  Bake another 5 - 8 minutes.  Cool.  Each loaf serves a bunch.  The original recipe claims 30 but that seems on the high side.

More on this topic later...

Namaste.

Today I Am Filled...With Spirit

Charlotte and I drove down to Denver today from our mountain perch in Evergreen. We were doing something new in our marriage - going to church - and no one was dead or getting married. We were just going because the Spirit was calling us to go. Or we were just curious what Pastor Nadia was up to at the House For All Sinners and Saints. Or Spirit and curiosity might be the same thing. Who knows?

We drove around the block a few times just so we wouldn't be too early. BTW, the service started at 4 PM so everyone out late last night had time to recover. Finally when we saw the guy with the conga drum go in, we figured that was our cue. It was gray, cold and snowing as we dashed from car to the main entrance of peeling white paint.

Its an old red brick church from 1902 on the corner of Bannock and 5th. With a stately steeple that has presided over who knows how many Sunday Potlucks in the basement. Now it is mostly used by the local Native American community who are kind enough to let HFASS use it on Sundays.

We enter to incense and a sense of purpose. The photo shows a collage that was created over several Sundays of Advent. In person it is just about life size. It served as the backdrop for the alter (card table) in the midst of circular pews (chairs). The inside is empty of its past - no pews or formal alter or cross or statues. But it might have been the holiest church I've been in. It was filled with purpose and belief. Not just folks going through the routine Sunday abulations, but folks really conspiring to find god.

Readings, singing, prayers, incense, and Eucharist (the Greek noun eukharistia (εὐχαριστία) derives from eu- "well" + kharis "favor, grace". Eukharisteo (εὐχαριστῶ) is the usual verb for "to thank" in the Septuagint and New Testament, see Wikipedia for more}. Charlotte cried. When she prays, she let's it all out.

The sermon was great. About how everything changes with god. change in the world. obama. materialism and being tired of it. Psalms 62:10.

As for me, I didn't cry. I was kind of tense actually. I get tense in new situations. And conspiring to find god, to let god in, to feel well, in favor and with grace, to participate in worship with actual people, these are new situations of a very heightened sort for me.

But I was glad to be there. Glad to be there with Charlotte. Glad to receive communion from Pastor Nadia.

Glad god was still there after all these years, letting me in.

Namaste.