A couple Sundays ago, we arrived early to set up for our Feast. We were all living with the new idea of leaving the Pilney space for good. We had just spent all of Saturday participating in Summer Homework--working on six homes in a three block radius. Sore, tired, hopefilled bodies. Hot City Pizza was busy making an endless supply of pizza for us. Right away, we realized a small hitch in our setup plan. The elevator was in the basement--which meant we couldn't use it--which meant we couldn't access our Rubbermaid bins--which meant we didn't have our regular altar stuff.
We punted. A coffee mug with "Mother" on it served as a chalice. Grape juice rather than wine. A paper plate held the bread. A group drew a cross. Pretty soon, someone offered a stuffed puppy on the altar. When we say things like: the church=gathered bodies around wine, bread, water, word...sometimes we actually have to live it.
We had some visitors that day (welcome to the holy chaos, friends). One visitor was Melissa Pohlman, who serves a church in N. Minneapolis (yes, where the tornado ripped through/apart). She sent us this as a response/thank you.
The trappings never did it for me
Big complicated inside words
And programming from the ‘50’s
Left me cold
But pizza from across the street
With a homegrown salad
In a borrowed space, soon left
Enough orange Fanta to share
There He is.
Embargoed Rubbermaid tubs
Marker to paper drawn
A cross in the style of Microsoft Office clipart
Bread and “wine”, cups and plate
Is enough. Enough to hold him for a quick minute
The altar is just the right place to rest
Beloved puppy and aforementioned Fanta
We are sent even before we have begun
Back to the rest of our lives
Full, with a little extra body delivered
From four year old to four year old
No one lacks for much
And I sing along.