Yesterday, we decided to take communion onto the streets of our village. We wanted to remind folk that it was Good Friday. And to confront folk quietly with the message that Christ died for them. The various reactions were fascinating. To many folk, we were completely invisible, gazes were averted as they passed by. Others were curious to know what we were up to but didn't want to engage. A few people took Jesus at his word and shared communion.
We set up table outside a fast food store - a juxtaposition I found ironic for the sharing of the food of life. There was something really liberating about taking the sacrament outside the walls of the church sanctuary. And certainly some of the participants in communion yesterday are folk who are unlikely to find themselves inside a church building being offered the sacrament instituted by Christ's death. Now I'm looking for more ways to take Christ onto the streets where he belongs, where we belong.