Guest Outpost blog by Jordan B. Davis
I remember it so clearly: standing at the table I once slept under during a lock-in, as I looked out at the faces of Sunday school teachers and youth group leaders. The retired pastor who baptized me at the age of 10 years old smiled back at me. I could feel the warm embrace of those who once held me close upon receiving the news that a dear friend and youth member had died in a car accident, the same tragedy that eventually pulled me away from not just this congregation but, for a few years, also from God. I thought of the last time I had been in this sanctuary, receiving Communion at my older sister’s wedding only a few years before.
Knowing that I was in seminary and a time of discernment, the Disciples of Christ congregation in which I was raised from birth until 8thgrade called me back, in need of someone to help lead worship and assist with communion over the Christmas break. I was hesitant, having left that congregation (and denomination) several years before, but the pull back to that Table which I grew up around (and under) and longed for every week, was too strong. So there I stood, breaking bread with those who had helped to raise me and never stopped loving me, even when I was no longer present.
I was in my first year of seminary and still unsure which route I would take in ministry. Standing on the other side of the communion table for the first time, my heart swelled and I knew this was exactly where I belonged – opening a space for all who sought Christ to gather together, for all who feared God to find shelter and for all who questioned religion to possibly find answers.
Three years later, I returned to that side of the Table following my ordination. I looked out into a different congregation but saw some of those same faces of individuals who had come from my childhood congregation to worship and praise God on this special day. I looked out at loved ones from different faith traditions and even those who claim no faith tradition, all taking in every moment with me. I looked into the eyes of those who saw a spark of hope for a small and struggling Presbyterian congregation as they looked at one of their own, a confused teenager turned into an adult and pastor.
“All who are in this room and all who are outside these walls are invited to come to this table. This is not Westminster’s table, this is not New Hope’s table, this is the Lord’s Table and it is for each and every one of us -those of us who have strong faith and those of us who have little faith, those of us who have believed for our whole lives and those of us who have yet to believe.”
These are the words that I spoke at the Lord’s Table on the day I was ordained and they are the words that continue to challenge and amaze me three years later.
Communion is without a doubt one of the gifts of God that excites me the most. As a child, my week was focused around communion each week. As a teenager in the midst of changing churches and denominations, communion was what I missed the most. As a discerning student, communion assured me of where I needed to be. As a pastor, communion has become one of the ways in which I see healing and welcome in ways that I might not see otherwise.
I fully believe and welcome all of God’s children to the Table, celebrating with those who are baptized and those who are not. I treasure the brief moments in which I can whisper, “Catherine, this is the bread of life for YOU” as I look into the eyes of each individual who has chosen to come forward to receive this beautiful sign of an invisible and irresistible grace.
It is around the Table where we find both healing and community as we come together as beautifully broken and flawed children of God and leave together as the unified and glorious Body of Christ. I have seen those who don’t believe walk away from the Table with a surprising bit of confidence, even if it is pushed to the side for the time-being. I have stood with those who have not returned for several years but now begin a beautiful healing process through these gifts of mercy and grace. I have found my own strength and confidence as I look into the eyes of those who encourage and support me, partaking in these gifts of irresistible Love with one another.
In an endlessly divided world, it is a truly beautiful gift of God that we can bring our flawed and broken, fearful and questioning selves to one unified table, open to all, and leave together. In a darkened world, the Table is a bright light as we seek God’s path for our lives both with and apart from one another.
The Communion Table has been the center and focus of my faith for as long as I can remember. I can honestly say that I might not be where I am today if it weren’t for the continued invitations to join with others around the Table to partake of the Bread of Life and Cup of Salvation: a gift of an irresistible grace that even I am good enough to receive and to share.
JORDAN B. DAVIS is the transitional associate pastor for youth and young adults at Kirk of Kildaire Presbyterian Church in Cary, North Carolina, and is the editor of Union Presbyterian Seminary’s “Congregational Corner” newsletter.
