My Jesus, I believe that you are truly present in the Blessed Sacrament of the bread and wine. I love you above all things, and long for you in my soul. Since I cannot now receive you sacramentally, come spiritually into my heart. I embrace you and unite myself entirely to you; never permit me to be separated from you. Amen.
Celebrant: While we long to receive the sacrament of Christ’s Body,
People: We become the sacrament of Christ’s Body.
Celebrant: Let your lives be manna to feed our hunger for communion.
People: The love we share becomes bread for the world.
—Taken from worship services at All Saints, Frederick, MD
On July 1, it will be exactly four months since the last time I celebrated the Eucharist. It will be three and a half months since the last time I received the Eucharist.
There’s never been such a period of sacramental absence in my life since I was admitted to receive communion when I was eleven years old. We used to have communion once a month–I think it was the third Sunday of the month–but then it became a weekly–if not daily–discipline.
I miss people, I miss worship, I miss singing, I miss face-to-face contact that is not mediated by a screen. I’m sure you do, too. I miss the taste of bread and wine, and the look in each person’s eyes as I say, “The Body of Christ, the Bread of Heaven,” while giving them that visible sign of Christ’s love for us. I had underappreciated how profound I find those momentary connections, and how much I miss them.
This period of fasting from Eucharist has not been one–so far–of deep spiritual renewal for me. But it does call me into more creative places, and I do feel Jesus in my heart. Jesus is with me in my joys and in my prayers of sorry; my prayers for healing for so many; my prayers of grief for those who have died, and their families who must mourn without our usual rituals and traditions in community.
I am conscious that clergy are stretched and exhausted with the nonstop challenges of ministry during COVID-19. They didn’t sign up to be videographers and film editors, and yet many of them have bravely and faithfully done so. They are on the phone a lot. Many of the moments of ministry that provide joyous rewards, like baptisms and deep conversations and delighted children in worship have dried up. They continue out of love. There is something sacramental about that kind of sacrifice on behalf of their people. But it is also unsustainable without lay support, changing roles, and periodic opportunities for Sabbath rest.
On July 12, the Diocese of Arizona will offer a bilingual worship service, including the prayer above, for all our congregations in order to give our clergy a Sunday off. Join us at 9:00 a.m. on our YouTube channel for worship. Information about how to access a diocesan coffee hour at 10:00 a.m. has been distributed through our congregations.
This is not a solution to clergy exhaustion, or to the need for vacation time and Sabbath rest. But hopefully it is one piece of a puzzle moving towards that.
And let us be the Body of Christ. Let our love for one another, for our neighbor, and for God be food for the hungry world.