The blog title might sound like something Robin would have said to Batman in the 1960s, but please bear with me, because I hope it will make sense by the end…
I really wish I could remember exactly what he said, because it was so lovely it nearly made me do a little cry, but at our September sentness Simon talked a little about the fact that our shared meals are in effect how we do communion, as we recognise the presence of God in the food and the fellowship.
A few months ago at college I was reflecting on the fact that I have experienced most of the sacraments recognised by the Catholic Church, and at some point in the celebrating of each of them I have experienced a moment of profound connection both to God and to those around me, and for a second it has felt like a circuit has been made complete. Or rather, I have experienced such a moment in the celebrating of each of them except communion.
For some reason, the circuit has never been made complete in the act of sharing bread and wine. At times I have felt close to God, and at times I have felt close to the people I have been sharing with, and they have been beautiful moments, but the two have never quite come together.
And yet listening to Simon last month, with my baby on my knee and the smell of sausages in the air, having prayed for and been prayed for by the community that I am blessed to belong to and privileged to serve, that elusive moment came very close.
I can’t quite put my finger on why, but I think it has something to do with the joy of our worship and the generosity of our sharing. We pray from the heart rather than an order of service, and we share a true feast rather than a token.
We may not do anything that looks like most people’s idea of communion very often, but there is something holy in the way we share our meals and share our lives. I don’t want to ruin it by overthinking it, but I do want to celebrate it by giving thanks for it.
So here’s to holy sausages! May God bless them and all who share them.