Reflection by Tola Marts

The Eucharist is different for me every time I receive it.

The body is different — apart from the obvious of sometimes being leavened and sometimes not, the same recipe can yield a bread that tastes sweeter on the tongue, or less sweet. Sometimes my mouth is dry, and the bread wicks away what little moisture I have in my mouth. It can feel solid and substantial, as if a small part of a meal. Or it can be the lightest of foods, barely solid at all before being softened by saliva in the mouth.

The blood is different — sometimes I take a tiny sip, almost nothing at all. Sometimes I take what winds up seeming like a huge gulp. The wine can taste sweet or acidic. Then it starts merging with the bread. If the bread is dry, the wine provides the missing moisture. If there is very little wine, it just adds a “seasoning”. If there is a lot of wine, the bread basically dissolves into the wine.

In this way, I never know exactly what to expect at the Eucharist, and every time is unique.

To me this is a physical analogy of the larger truth that each Sunday the interplay of scripture and God's presence makes for a different religious experience. Some days the scripture feels like it is speaking just to you, other days not. Sometimes God leaves us feeling changed by the service, other times not. The various ways we can react to the scripture, and to what we feel from the Lord in our hearts, and what they mean to each other, is unpredictable and ever-new each Sunday.