Blunder at the Lord's Table

Happy Easter!

I hope your day was inspiring, filled with loved ones and good reflection.  I also hope you didn't have to spend any of it hiding in a corner of your brother's church basement, wanting to die from embarrassment.  I did.

First let's preface this with two funny Rowan "overheards."

Rowan and I were staying with my brother Jeff's family, and attending church with them. (Dan and Aidan are on a road trip.)   One very moving component of the service was that there was a largish cross passed through the congregation.  Rowan was transfixed, and asking a million questions.  "What is it?"  "A cross?"  "What are they doing?"  "Passing it around."  "What letter is it?"

The next funny thing to happen was that Rowan leaned forward, and, inches away from a strange woman's face sitting the row in front of him, blew a large raspberry.  My mom, who was sitting with him, pulled him back and apologized to the poor woman.  Rowan, defensive, loudly exclaimed, "But I was trying to get the boogies out of my nose!!!"  Seconds later, "Oooh, I got one!"  The best part was looking down the row and seeing all the shoulders shaking with laughter. (Mostly my family, but I noticed the woman was laughing too.)

I can't even believe that I am writing about this, I am so embarrassed, but the way my husband laughed when I told him this story tells me it will entertain you.

I panicked when, halfway through the service, I realized they were serving communion.  It was the go-to-the-front-of-the-church kind, which we don't usually do at our church (or maybe we do, we rarely go anymore...read above for explanation.)  As we stood up to go, I went over and over in my mind how I was going to prepare Rowan, tell him what to do, not take too much, etc.  Also, I have been sleep deprived, nursing the last dregs of a bad cold, so in my defense not thinking clearly.  We got up to the front, I got my bread and shoved it in my mouth so I could focus on Rowan.  He sweetly put out his little cupped hands to receive the bread.  We got to the wine, I absentmindedly grabbed the cup out of the pastor's hand and took a sip as a little voice in my brain screamed, "What are you doing?  Intinction! you're supposed to dip your bread in!  Oh my God (sorry) now my cold germs are all over that cup, the pastor is looking at me like I am crazy, please can I shrivel up and die now?"  As my horror washed over me, Rowan grabbed the grape juice cup which the pastor had held out, and followed my lead, except he took several great swigs and then refused to relinquish the cup.  A short tugging match, and we booked it down to the basement where I hid, until Rowan would no longer let me.

I am glad my God is a forgiving God.  I hope the good folks at Grace Lutheran are too.