Salvation never tasted so good
Ever since I moved to Nashville a year ago, I’ve been an active attendee of a fantastic little church called City Church of East Nashville. When people ask me why I go there, I always think of two reasons: we sing the Doxology at the end of every service, and the communion bread is the bomb. Of course, there are many other REAL reasons that I love City Church – community, compelling preaching, a mission with integrity, simple and authentic worship – but the Doxology and the communion bread are my joke answers. Although… sometimes, I think they actually might be legitimate motives.
Because guys, seriously, this communion bread is unlike any other bread I’ve ever had in my life. Someone from the church makes it every week, and I swear that somewhere in the recipe is listed “crack.” Dense and delicious, I kind of wish I could make my turkey sandwiches with it. Every week, I try to focus on the SACRAMENT of it all, but – sue me – there is a tiny (sacrilegious, sinful) part of me that is really excited for the taste.
Like this past Sunday.
At City Church, we take communion by intinction – that is, we walk up to the front, tear a piece of bread off of the loaf, and dip it into the wine before eating it. So there I was, my turn, tearing off a piece of Holy Freaking Delicious Bread that also happens to be the Body of Our Lord, and I realized that I had accidentally torn off a really big chunk. But – too late now, my fingers have already touched it. I HAVE to eat it.
I dipped it in the wine. I said a quick prayer. And then, I opened my mouth so wide that I practically dislocated my jaw, shoved in the bread, and walked back to my seat.
It wasn’t until I sat back down that I realized what a predicament I was in. This hunk of bread was so gigantic that I couldn’t chew it without OPENING MY MOUTH, open shut, open shut, chomp chomp chomp. I was crunching on the bread, making audible chewing noises, and when I leaned over to tell Cara what had happened, all that came out was a crumbly mumble, my words masked by the mass of bread bigger than my tongue.
I missed the closing song. I was still chewing.
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tags: Awesome | Awkward | Church | Embarrassing | Ridiculous | Totally Pointless and Irrelevant
Appalling.
I guess it would have been rude to take small bites out of the body of Christ, huh…?
My favorite post ever.
…and then, this is the part of community – sharing this experience. wish i would have been sitting behind you instead of in front of you to witness this hilarity.
heathen.
I would imagine it was ok…I mean, can you ever get too much Jesus? :-)
Ha… We have fresh-baked “Holy Freaking Delicious” bread every Sunday, too. And, it’s my biggest fear that I’ll do what you did this past Sunday.
So far, I’ve only held up the line of believers by struggling to rip off a (smallish) piece.
Do the kids at your church swarm around the bread after service, too?
We have wafers and I am officially feeling left out of “good” communion bread. I’ll have to talk to the Pastor about that one.
You are awesome.
we need to have Katherine Falk teach us how to make it. I’m pretty sure I would gain 50 lbs, tho…
I’m so glad your City Church isn’t like Seattle’s City Church.
This story reminds me of one night when I was helping to serve Communion, this girl comes up and, thinking we’re doin it Catholic-Style, puts her mouth to the cup and takes a giant swig of Holy Grape Juice! When her friend turned red and started giggling, she almost died.
I told her later that in a way, it was a beautiful act of devotion to our Lord, but “Intinction” is latin for “Tear it off and dip it in the cup.”
As Gaff used to say, “Don’t be bashful! Tear it off like you mean it!”
I love the Rip-N-Dip Sacraments.
Yep – Katherine Falk. Beautiful unleavened bread baker. I’m gonna send her this link… she’ll love it.
I, too, have taken too large a bite. But my worst faux pas was when I dropped my hunk-o-Jesus in the goblet of wine and it sunk to the bottom. Do I dig it out with my fingers? Do I rip another hunk? Oh, the dilemma.
I am shedding silent tears at work from laughing so hard inside. I have been serving communion when the “big hunk” tear happens to someone, but at our church, we laugh together (our loud) about it.
when Mary and I were little we would sneak into the back kitchen of our church where the communion bread was kept following the service and stuff ourselves with the leftover delicious bread. it should be noted, that on Sundays when the loaves of bread were not provided, wafers were used (aka Styrofoam), and Mary and I were not above sneaking a few of those for ourselves as well.
I could go on and talk about the sugar cubes we used to take by dozens, but I won’t. However, I can still remember the way the cube would melt in my mouth… ahhh the days before fat and sugar mattered.