I took communion, and even with a nasty cold, took the chalice. As I walked back to my pew, I told myself I should have done it by intinction (dipping the host in the chalice) so I didn't get everyone sick.
When I sat in the pew, I noticed a homeless man coming back from the rail and actually thought to myself
I am glad I went before him.
For a fleeting moment, I was relieved that I didn't have to share a cup with the homeless guy.
That is appalling on so many levels. I, who had a virus that I was more than willing to share with everyone. I, who believe the chalice contains the blood of Christ.
Who is this person, I wonder, who is suddenly overtaken by fear? What exactly am I afraid of, anyway? Cooties? Am I in kindergarten?
Every now and then God shines a light into the darkness of my soul. I am so grateful when he does it. It is an act of love, I think, for him to bring me face to face with my weakness. It reminds me how much I need his redeeming love.
I think this will be going on my list for confession.
I ask for your mercy. I thank you for your Love.