Anybody else "cheers" the communion cup on Sunday?

Did anyone else cheers the communion cup on Sunday? As a recovering Baptist, this practice feels sacrilegious and somewhat-sinfully automatic.  Raising my hands in church AND using a cultural practice centered around alcohol? My mom used to duck when she even drove by a liquor store. A dangerous practice. Shame heats my face every time I accidentally lift the cup and offer to clink with my neighbor.

But what is more worthy of lifting hands in celebration than Christ's big love? The juxtaposition of church and culture swirls around the dysfunctional way we all approach life and religion. What am I to do with that oxymoron? 

Anna, my grand-daughter reminded me of the mismatch of living, loving, politics, and religion. We kneeled on the velvet and needlepoint cushions, waiting for the pastor to offer the blood and body of Christ. We placed our empty hands in prayer over the worn wood, waiting for the host, gesturing in prayer until I heard a little gasp beside me and peeked to see Anna's wide eyes. She brushed the blond wisps from her forehead wrinkled in concern, "OH NONA! We forgot the tip!!" She was horrified. And it was too late to grab a dollar or some coins for the offering.

She had no idea why I smiled and laughed at such a travesty and lapse of obligation to those who serve. My prayer of thanksgiving for Christ's sacrifice and apologies for my failures turned to praise and love for the gentle heart of this child. 

She probably cringes to hear this frequently recounted tale much like my son who groans when I delightfully tell about the only time he mispronounced a word in his life: "These are the voyages of the starship, Enterprise, it's contishooing mission to seek out new life and new civililations...to boltly go where no man has gone before..." embarrassment and avoidance at the repeated recollections of innocence. 

A recitation again. The same story. The Body of Christ. The Blood of Christ. A few words of a story, legion of emotions, horrors of mistakes, disappointments, pain,...but also of joy, wonder, and awe. Anna's misconstrued understanding of communion and offerings represented her childlike inexperience and the culture of the restaurant industry. Food. Service. Tips. She may have understood it better than any of us. 

Like the transubstantiation of the elements, some of us only understand the mysteries through things we know about. As a baker, I'm reminded of the chemical reactions of osmosis when water, flour, and time become bread. Reflection shows me that the cup, the culture, and the living aren't really oxymoronic at all.

The living of life in the time we have, next to people we have only a few moments to love and enjoy...it all mixes together and changes life from one kind of thing to another. I don't think the Lord minds that kind of connection - celebration - at his table. Today, I feel ok about letting go of the guilt around lifting the cup. 

Cheers.