Communion of Friends

Communion is a ceremony Christians do to reenact the night Jesus began a new covenant of love and sacrifice with his friends the disciples. At my church we do Communion by Intinction, where the congregation walks up to servers holding a cup of wine and a loaf of bread. The bread server gives you a little piece of bread and says, “The body of Christ, broken for you,” and then the wine server holds the cup for you to dip in your piece of bread, and they say, “The blood of Christ, shed for you.” The servers at our church are lay people from the congregation. As a long-time churchgoer, sometimes the Communion ritual slides into “going through the motions,” but recently I had a wonderful and touching experience when a friend of mine was one of the servers one Sunday morning.
God bless
“Communion of Friends”
bread and wine sometimes
water down weak to repeated
ritual when I stand in the line for
our oldest ceremony, but today
I am served by a friend who
has watched me grow, blessed
my days with grace and joy, cried
with me in loss. when she speaks
to me, puts bread in my palm,
tears rush to my eyes in new
understanding of the love
that founded this ritual. Two thousand
years ago so did Christ share love
with his friends, care in his eyes,
compassion in his gift. Today I stand
in the presence of the same Spirit,
speaking silent words to me as I receive
deep blessing.
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Communion of Friends by Briana Batty is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.



I think I’m in good company when I say that my life has unexpectedly become a time of tumultuous changes. This poem draws on two of my favorite Bible stories, the changing of water to wine (John 2:1-11) and the feeding of the five thousand (John 6:1-15*), for inspiration for courage to face the changes before me. These stories tell me that with God’s power, we can overcome our challenges, transitions, and uncertainty.

God bless

*There are multiple accounts in the Gospels of the feeding of the five thousand; I chose the one from the Gospel of John.


At some point we all face
plain water 
      filling up jars at wedding beginnings.
Cool, simple, and familiar, it beckons
     us to leave well enough alone
     for now.
Too often we freeze in place where you
    moved into miracles, splashed into
rich red tomorrows. 

I am the boy with the five loaves
      and two fish who you met on your
journeys in the desert. 
I hold out my meager collection of
    courage and hope and ask that you
multiply these pieces
        until I have enough 
to feed a multitude. 

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Change by Briana Batty is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.