The pastor welcomes us, calls us to worship and prays a blessing over our work ahead. Everything is set except the table. As we leaf through our hymnals for the first song, the bread and cup are conspicuously absent.
The rousing strains of the opening hymn draw our attention to the notes and words on the page before us, but out of the corner of our eye we catch a glimpse of two people with the missing elements. As we follow their course to the front of the church they pause, raise the elements and place them on the table. The two volunteers find a seat as we try to find our place on the page. Verse two ends with some of us attempting to regain our composure while others beam like insiders of a private joke. Fortunately the service continues, and the distraction lasts only a moment.
This first movement of communion, however, is not intended to be reserved for insiders or a distraction to those of a less formal ilk. The purpose of worship is to draw our attention to God. Since the cup and loaf represent the presence of Christ among us, the processing of the elements is a significant gesture of our work of worship together. I offer these observations as a means to appreciate the moment.
First, good worship, like good theology, is both historical and timely. It draws from the rich traditions of the past in order to make worship meaningful in the present. The act of processing bread can be dated back to Justin Martyr (155 AD). It is a very ancient act, and with the right perspective, a very meaningful one.
The demands of an open hymnal make two positions possible. We may out of necessity or choice keep our eyes fixed on the page before us while a wonderful thing passes without our notice. “The LORD inhabits the praises of his people,
