Growing up in a small town in Southern New Jersey

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Communion/Sunday saying

Communion.  A.K.A. The Lord's Supper. At Mt. Calvary we celebrated the Lord's Supper once a month, the last Sunday of the month.  Communion was very special to me and I looked forward to those monthly "suppers."  I have to say that I was not permitted to partake until I had been baptized, and so for 10 cognizative years I watched as the elements were passed past me on those Sundays.

The church was very quiet during that part of the service, except for my father's recitation of Scripture.  And after everyone (except the children) had been served one element, dad would say, "This do in remembrance of Me.  Eat ye all of it."  And down would go the Matza, which he had cracked into tiny pieces between a paper napkin back at the house prior to the service. 

He also filled all those tiny cups with just a couple of ounces of grape juice.  And said:   "This do in remembrance of Me.  Drink ye all of it." 

I recall that communion set the church had.  The plates for the Matza were peuter and had a wonderful patina.  The juice rack was made of wood with holes in each tier (the church had three because there were three sections in the sanctuary) for the cups which held the juice.  And in the early years the cups were made of glass and mom had to wash them after each communion service.  In my last few years at the church they had switched over to plastic which could be pitched and no washing was required. 

I don't remember mom ever complaining about having to wash all those tiny glasses.  I know I did because I had to dry the things.  After drying them for several years and before we changed over to plastic, I tried to convince my mom that washing them and then letting them dry on a towel was more sanitary than my drying them and touching them with my grimy fingers.  I think I was about 10 or 11 years old when she finally succumbed to my logic and we would place those tiny glass recepticals on a kitchen towel, unside down, and they would air dry.  Then she would carefully place them into the wooden racks for the next month's Communion service.

I loved those days.  What can I say?  They were very, very special.


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