Dear Friends in Christ,
Wasn’t the clergy conference marvelous? At the “bishop’s time” I said, “there’s always something to receive from whomever the speaker or leader is, and there’s always something the speaker says or does that doesn’t resonate…that’s okay because the real treasure is God’s delight in giving us gifts for collegiality and friendship which we can best nurture here.”
I’m still chuckling about Shaneequa’s playful yet profound story of her undergraduate years at the Episcopal chaplaincy at the University of Minnesota. She recounted a student discussion about the Eucharist, whether it was transubstantiation, consubstantiation, or memorialism–words she’d never heard, much less knew. Then she asked us to raise our hands identifying ourselves as subscribers of transubstantiation, consubstantiation, or memorialism. My impish response was to turn around to see if anybody self-identified as a memorialist; thankfully nobody did. But the point of Shaneequah’s story was her college chaplain laying aside those definitions of the Eucharist with two arresting and loving questions: Do you believe in transformation? Is the Eucharist transforming you?
The Eucharist is key to understanding the gospel, and the entire New Testament. The meaning of Jesus Christ’s actions in the last supper is determined by the whole meaning of his life and work. To receive communion is to participate in the life and sacrifice of Christ. His words of institution were the final unfolding and meaning of his death, and in those words the central power of his life and death were made alive. This is what transforms us, and in this God continually deepens our relationship with God and with God’s people. In the long run the Eucharist will be its own interpreter and teacher. Shaneequa’s college chaplain’s question echoes for us: Do we believe in transformation?
I believe in transformation because in you I see the fullness of who Jesus Christ was, who he is just now, and who he shall become. His body and blood change me, they shape me, and so do you. In your ministry as deacons and presbyters, whether you’re active or retired, young or old, newly-ordained or celebrating your golden jubilee, always remember that Jesus Christ is both host and food.
The big, driving question for me isn’t what we make of the Eucharist, but what the Eucharist makes of us, because together with the Word of God (see, I am Protestant) it fashions us into the way of Christ himself.
When the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dame Sarah Mulally, was Bishop of London, she re-arranged the laundry room at the episcopal residence to be an oratory where she could say Mass each day. I don’t think any priest in the Diocese of Maine says Mass every day, nor am I necessarily suggesting one ought to, but the image of the Bishop of London refurbishing a laundry room, a place used to clean, into a place to offer sacrifice and thanksgiving activates in us our own devotion to our ongoing call to sacramental life.
Besides Isaiah Shaneequah Brokenleg’s presence with us last week, there is another great teacher, Michael Ramsey (100th Archbishop of Canterbury, 1961-1974), who still nourishes us with an image of transformation with this prayer:
Lord, take my heart and break it:
break it not in the way I would like,
but in the way you know to be best.
And because it is you who break it,
I will not be afraid, for in your hands
all is safe and I am safe.
Lord, take my heart and give it to your joy,
not in the ways I like,
but in the ways you know are best,
that your joy may be fulfilled in me.
So, dear Lord, I am ready
ready to be your deacon,
ready to be your priest,
ready to be your bishop.
Amen.