Every Eucharist is a thanksgiving. It is what the word means.
I remember reading a very moving passage from a liturgical theologian (must have been Gregory Dix, I think) about the different events that had been marked by the sharing of bread and wine in thanksgiving. It is celebrated week by week in high places and grubby places. It is celebrated at death beds and when kings and queens are crowned. It is offered in thanksgiving at harvest and in remembrance of souls who have passed.
Each Eucharist I celebrate teaches me something new. That is the nature of liturgical formation. Each time fresh. Each time something that God offers back to us, increasing the knowledge that we have in justice restored, hope revealed, holiness amongst us and resurrection life itself.
Today I celebrated a Eucharist in circumstances which were new to me but which felt old and traditional all the same. A new addition to the range of things that human beings have wanted to mark with the sharing of the bread of heaven and the wine of new life. Today it was in celebration of a Civil Partnership between two people whom I have come to know through my work.
Duncan wrote last week of his sense of holiness in being with a couple as they vow to be with one another for life. I know that feeling well, yet every time it surprises me just a little. The most intimate of moments a couple ever have, but shared with their families and friends and in the awesome presence of the living God. Today was no different.
As I helped the two men through their vows and then served communion to them and their friends in thanksgiving, I knew the Eucharist of old. And I knew the Eucharist afresh. I know Christ at that meal every time. Today it was knowing him holding the beloved disciple in his arms as he shared with his friends on his last night and as he has done at every Eucharist since.
People like me have been waiting for services like the one I celebrated today for so long.
Christ the beloved one has been waiting much longer.
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