Tag Archives: Eucharist

The story of Barry Baker

A little legend for Lent Once upon a time, an indeterminate number of centuries ago, a little boy was found on the Barry Island beach. The child, not more than a year old, was wrapped in a blanket and laid … Continue reading

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Bread

A little Lenten story I made my own bread when the children were small, with the aid of a machine. They ate it ravenously, sometimes playing Eucharist: “This is my toast, given for you.” My eldest bequeathed me a recipe … Continue reading

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What is good news?

God showed me a robin in the snow, so I hung a feeder from my window: so far no one has used it but
the cats live in hope. Continue reading

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A memory in black and white

A memory so ancient, it could be in black and white. I met the vicar on the street, in his white collar. He said, “J’accuse!” He did not.  He said, “It has been too long since you received Communion.” I … Continue reading

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On Spiritual Communion

Even if I could not yet receive the Bread and the Wine bodily, it was important beyond measure that they were consecrated, and that others, some-bodies, shared them on my behalf and enfolded me in their mysteries. Continue reading

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What are we worth?

No matter what we do, it is no more than Christ has ordered us to do, no more than our baptismal promises to resist evil, to strive for justice and peace among all people, to respect the life and dignity of every human being; to become slaves to the love of God and of God’s family in creation.
But, “worthless”? Continue reading

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Bread of life

I knew, in my body and in my soul and in the core of my being that what was offered at that altar was something I needed, something I wanted, something I could not live without. I still can’t quite explain it; I still know that it is true. Continue reading

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Love and marriage

Today’s readings include the golden calf incident during the Exodus, and the parable of the wedding banquet  You may have seen, as I did, the story this week of a young girl who chose a new, white suit in which … Continue reading

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Broken

At the parish where I celebrate Communion week by week, we use pita for the bread – a nice Middle Eastern connection. I tear off a small piece for each person who presents themself at the altar rail, place it … Continue reading

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On returning from a pilgrimage 

Between my hands, wheat and water; bread, flat and pale. In its grain I read the story of hands breaking bread beside a river; light lifts the surface of the water; between fragments, for a moment, I can see the … Continue reading

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