I miss the wafer. The Catholic communion wafer.
The one that dissolved on my tongue.
It’s a sense memory that I will never forget.
Having the Host placed directly on to my tongue. Doing nothing to add to the process of it dissolving.
No chewing. Just waiting.
I miss that a bit.
Communion is certainly different for me now. The tray comes by. Which piece should I take? Do I want the gluten-free option? The juice. Careful as you pass. Crap. Spilled a little. What a mess. Maybe I’ll just set it down until we’re ready to drink it.
There’s an effort that happens now – a conscious effort to partake – which, yes, is good – being present. Only, I kind of miss receiving the body of Christ and just allowing it to seep into my being. To permeate me without any action from me except that of accepting it into my mouth. No choosing a piece. No holding until every one is ready. No chewing. No washing down the excess crumbs. Sometimes, it’s almost too active.
The wafer reminded me that I brought NOTHING to the table but sin. And that only by God seeping into my entire being could I be saved. Mercy and Grace in my mouth.
Now, while I still adore communion – don’t misunderstand me – there is almost too much effort on my part – it has become more of a “works” experience for me. For an active mind such as mine, the former communion experience sure shut me up – for there was nothing to do.
With the wafer my hands were empty. I did nothing. I brought nothing. I was served. I sat. And waited.
Sometimes, I really miss that wafer.
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