Random Reflections from Church

My two unconnected thoughts after the church service this morning:

First, I had my first experience today with being a single person in the church directory. We're having an update to the church directory and so I took a picture--standing by myself. I waited in line with all the other families and couples who were struggling to get just one shot with everyone facing the camera, eyes open, and no funny faces. And then there was me, and all I had to try to coordinate for the photo was my own expression (which, I'll admit, can be challenging enough). And it just felt...strange. It felt lonely. It felt wrong. Not "wrong" in the sense of internal raging against a world in which I'm not married yet (although, I'll confess, there's always a tiny hint of that going on), but wrong in the sense that based on the picture, I appeared alone--and I'm not. I am not an unconnected island or entity, even within the church. I have a family, it just looks very different from the families of many other people in my church. It includes my brothers (who attend the church) and my parents (who attend another church), even though we no longer live together; it includes my roommates; it includes my community group; it includes the families for whom I babysit; it includes my Sunday School class; and so many other people. Now, I recognize I'm probably being overly concerned with the symbolism; from a practical standpoint, I understand why I have to be pictured and listed as though I am an unconnected individual. I can't picture a good alternative. But particularly given that Focus on the Family graciously sent me a free copy of a relationship magazine this weekend, which warned me against the potential of "dying lonely" if I do not get married soon, I am a little sensitive right now to the idea that "single" means "alone." My church is the body that reminds me how not alone I am, particularly on days when I am prone to feel sorry for myself. Maybe they can just print this statement underneath my photo in the directory--my long manifesto to accompany my little photograph. :)

Second, and on a more positive note, I got to serve communion today. My church has a bunch of different people stand up front and hold the "elements" (the bread and wine) while the congregation files up to receive them. The servers are on a volunteer schedule, and rotate every week. This was the first time I've gotten to do it, and I was nervous: that I would say the wrong thing, that I would drop the wine and spill it all over myself, that I would lock my knees and pass out. Thankfully, the pastor wisely gave us only one thing to say ("The body of Christ for you; the blood of Christ for you"); I got handed the bread instead of the wine (again, probably a sign of the pastor's wisdom); and I did not pass out! More than all that, however, was the unexpected beauty of getting to be the agent through whom the gift of Christ's sacrifice was given to the church. It was not my gift to give or restrict; it was my gift to receive alongside everyone; but I got to watch others receive it and help them receive it. I started out looking each person in the eye as I recited to them, "The body of Christ for you," but had to stop at a certain point because the looks on so many faces were making me want to cry. (I should note that I'm not afraid to cry in front of people, but I had to consider the people coming forward--no one likes soggy bread!) But the gratitude, the solemnity, the joy, the surprise that I saw in so many eyes reminded me of the great gift that we receive at communion, a gift whose value I too often forget. (I wonder what my eyes show on a given Sunday morning: boredom?) It was a humbling and incredibly moving experience; I can't wait to come up on the schedule again!