(Names have
been changed for privacy.)
“She
probably won’t even know you’re there, or at least won’t acknowledge you,” the
nurse said flatly.
I had come
bearing my Holy Communion bag from St. John’s containing the elements, some
tiny cups, hand sanitizer, and written instructions (whew!)—and my nervous gut
was right there with me. Sure, the elements of bread and wine (wafers and
juice) may have been blessed previously, but I felt completely out of my
element! Wandering the halls of the nursing home, where folks were napping or
moaning or staring into space, made me feel wholly unprepared for anything
remotely holy.
I had never
met Doris before, but the nurse threw wet blankets on any fire of hope that she
might have joy in sharing the sacrament of communion—let alone show any
recognition of my presence!
I found
Doris lying in a reclining wheelchair in a common area, said hello, and
introduced myself. No response. A fleeting thought said—OK, you tried, and the nurse was obviously right. It’s not going to
work, so go on to the next person on your list. I’m a stubborn sort, so I
pulled up a chair hoping to prove that nurse wrong.
I continued
to explain why I was there and asked if she would like to take communion.
Nothing.
Finally, in
resignation blended with a wilted hope that some awareness was in those blank
eyes, I asked her if she would like me to pray with her. Nothing.
I gently took
her hand and began praying out loud, using her name, and thanking God for her
and whatever else came to my heart that moment.
In Jesus’ name. Amen.
At that
moment, she turned to me with sparkly eyes and said, “Thank you. That was so
nice.”
I talked
with her a bit more, but she returned to her dazed and confused appearance, and
never responded to questions or anything else I said.
Communion as
we know it in the church is the service of Christian worship at which bread and
“wine” are consecrated and shared. We sit at the table with the Lord Jesus and
partake in oneness with him.
But
communion also means the sharing or exchanging of intimate thoughts and
feelings, especially when the exchange is on a mental or spiritual level. That
is the communion the Holy Spirit facilitated in that moment with Doris. I fully
felt the presence of Jesus. It was a God thing.
We are
expected to share our faith and tell nonbelievers how Jesus Christ has changed
our lives. No matter what our maturity level in our Christian walk, we all have
something to offer. Too often, we believe the devil’s lie that we don't really
know enough or haven't been a Christian long enough to make a difference (or,
in my case, the negative thoughts of “abandon ship and leave Doris, because
this is not going to work.”). Not true! By pushing those thoughts away, I got
to experience the awesome presence of God. I may stumble over Bible verses or
even the "accepted" way of saying things, but I have experienced (and
continue to experience) the love of the living God, and that is exactly what
each of us is called to share.
“Where two or more are gathered in my name, there
I am with them.”— Matthew 18:20
May you be
blessed with his presence this advent!
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