The Power of Ritual
One of the aspects of the Christian faith I have always been drawn to is that of ritual. Growing up United Methodist, I have been a part of a tradition/denomination that places a particular degree of importance on methodology (Method - ists), form, structure, and liturgy. The church year, which is divided into particular seasons such as Advent, Easter, Pentecost etc. follows a cyclical nature that repeats and in so doing tells and re-tells the basic points of Christian belief.
I find that calming.
I also find that within our larger rituals are particular ones that mean more and more to me. In particular, Holy Communion, which is one of our two sacraments in the UMC, baptism being the second. Holy Communion is a vital part of our faith and practise and established much of our theology. From the profound moment of declaring that "While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us," to the lines in the Great Thanksgiving which outline the basics of faith to the congregational responses ("Holy, holy, holy Lord," and "Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.") it is a moment in which I, while leading the ritual as pastor and celebrant, am part of something much larger than that moment. We all in the sanctuary are participating in something larger and much more ancient than we might realize.
In the history of the Christian churches, there have been denominations and groups that have marginalized, lessened, or even removed the ritual of Communion. It becomes something far less than a ritual. It becomes...well, I don't know what it becomes. Because with the absence of ritual comes the absence of meaning. Communion is just something a group does from time to time, and that doesn't have the same kind of power as a ritual rooted in tradition.
Recently I had the opportunity to share in that ritual with an individual in the hospital. I brought communion to them and walked through the ritual with them as we shared in the bread and the juice (Methodists use juice, not wine. Not because we are opposed to wine, but because we want to make sure all can partake of the sacrament). The first time I took communion to someone and did the service it seemed odd, as there was only one other person present. Now, however, I find that it doesn't matter how many are there. What matters is that we are doing our best to connect people in congregations and as individuals into the ritual that points to the larger church and the larger kingdom that ritual represents. It is a way of bringing the larger church into a small space and in that small space unfolding the larger kingdom of God.
I know not everyone shares my view on communion. I served a church that would have gladly never had communion because it took "too long" and made the service last longer than usual (which made people later to lunch - GASP!). But from my side of the pulpit, I find that it is a joy to participate in something that isn't about the local church, but about the Christian faith. Likewise, when I travel, opportunities to receive communion are blessed moments of ritualistic and sacramental connection.
I find that calming.
I also find that within our larger rituals are particular ones that mean more and more to me. In particular, Holy Communion, which is one of our two sacraments in the UMC, baptism being the second. Holy Communion is a vital part of our faith and practise and established much of our theology. From the profound moment of declaring that "While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us," to the lines in the Great Thanksgiving which outline the basics of faith to the congregational responses ("Holy, holy, holy Lord," and "Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.") it is a moment in which I, while leading the ritual as pastor and celebrant, am part of something much larger than that moment. We all in the sanctuary are participating in something larger and much more ancient than we might realize.
In the history of the Christian churches, there have been denominations and groups that have marginalized, lessened, or even removed the ritual of Communion. It becomes something far less than a ritual. It becomes...well, I don't know what it becomes. Because with the absence of ritual comes the absence of meaning. Communion is just something a group does from time to time, and that doesn't have the same kind of power as a ritual rooted in tradition.
Recently I had the opportunity to share in that ritual with an individual in the hospital. I brought communion to them and walked through the ritual with them as we shared in the bread and the juice (Methodists use juice, not wine. Not because we are opposed to wine, but because we want to make sure all can partake of the sacrament). The first time I took communion to someone and did the service it seemed odd, as there was only one other person present. Now, however, I find that it doesn't matter how many are there. What matters is that we are doing our best to connect people in congregations and as individuals into the ritual that points to the larger church and the larger kingdom that ritual represents. It is a way of bringing the larger church into a small space and in that small space unfolding the larger kingdom of God.
I know not everyone shares my view on communion. I served a church that would have gladly never had communion because it took "too long" and made the service last longer than usual (which made people later to lunch - GASP!). But from my side of the pulpit, I find that it is a joy to participate in something that isn't about the local church, but about the Christian faith. Likewise, when I travel, opportunities to receive communion are blessed moments of ritualistic and sacramental connection.
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