Faux Pas

by Tim Knappenberger

A friend of mine was being married in one of our cities oldest churches. The church was the home church of William McKinley while he served as our 25^th President. William and Ida McKinley’s regular pews are near the front of the church and are permanently roped off to keep visitors from defiling them. Being an American history buff, I looked forward to the opportunity to check out this piece of Americana. The wedding occurred during the Christmas season which only added to the beauty and grandeur of the old Methodist sanctuary.

My friend and her new husband had decided on a communion service during their wedding that was open to members of the congregation. Everyone who so desired was invited to come forward and partake of the elements at the alter. As I was standing in line to accept the bread and cup, I kept admiring the beauty and history that surrounded me and the deep sense of worship they invoked. In retrospect, I think I admired it all a little too much, however. As I neared the front of the sanctuary, I wasn’t paying any attention to how the elements were being served. The minister and associate minister were standing at the front serving two lines of worshipers with two common loaves and cups. Now before I go any further let me say that I’m no stranger to the Lord’s Supper. Throughout my life I’ve taken communion in about every manner one can take it. From having a priest place the elements on my tongue at Mass to using orange juice and a "Twinkie" at the beach. Furthermore, as an elder I’ve served communion to hundreds of people in any number of settings. Simply put, I consider myself very "CC" (Communion-ally Correct).

As it came my turn, I approached the minister and accepted the piece of bread torn from the common loaf. Easy enough. Then I spied the common cup; silver chalice actually. "Okay, Tim," I dialogued to myself, "It’s one of those ceremonies wherein everyone drinks from the same cup. Now show how spiritually enlightened and hygienically unbothered you are about the whole thing and take your sip of the juice." As I smiled and reached out to take the cup from the associate minister’s hands, two things struck me as odd. First, there were "floaties" in the cup. You know, those UFO’s (Unidentified Floating Objects) you used to find in your 5 year old’s milk at the end of every meal. "Okay, Tim, still no problem. Just take a little sip." Secondly, the expression on the minister’s face when I snatched the chalice from her hands and put it to my mouth was one of shock and surprise. Actually, in looking back it was more one of disgust. Handing the cup back, it suddenly hit me. As I glanced over at the second line, I quickly learned that the manner of receiving the emblems this day was dipping the bread into the cup! Woops! Maybe that explains why everyone behind me suddenly decided to shift over to the other line.

Sometimes something so embarrasses you that the only option open is to stick your chest out, hold your head high and march off stage. That’s just what I did. Later at the reception, I confessed my transgression to those I was with as well as to the bride. Needless to say, they all got a good laugh. No, make that a "scream-until-you-turn-red, cough-and-almost-throw-up" laugh. To make matters worse (if that were possible) my friend called a few days later to gleefully inform me that the whole episode was captured on video! Great, like I was thinking of ordering copies.

My point? Prior to my little faux pas, I was having an enjoyable spiritual and worshipful experience. Stimulated by my surroundings and the occasion, I marveled at God’s beauty reflected in Christmas wedding sights, sounds and smells. Then within a literal heart beat, my reverie ended all due to my focus suddenly shifting from praise to protocol. I’m not necessarily advocating we should all take the Lord’s Supper by swigging from gallon jugs of Gallo wine while we communally chew off hunks of bread tossed back and forth between Believers (albeit this scenario seems to have a more "real" and genuinely joyful flavor to it). I am suggesting that it is very easy to lose the focus of our worship -namely Christ - in the many structures we build around our worship of Him. Maybe it’s in how we define dignified Sunday morning dress, or the appropriate time to knell, or what are the "right" hymns to sing, or which Bible translation gets read and which gets ridiculed. If all of us approached the Throne of Grace with the joy, wonder and abandonment I believe God wants us to, maybe we would lose ourselves in Him and His love instead of bogging down in being over-focused on our dress, our demeanor, and our decorum. At the very least, we might come away from our times of worship more Spirit-filled than formality focused.

He said to them, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them. . . anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." (Mark 10:14, 15 - NIV)

(Acts 2:46 - NIV)