When I first started in my title parish I found myself being charged with visiting a care home to administer communion by extension. One of my earliest experiences doing this went like this:
I arrived and was shown into the two rooms that make up the day room and dining room. In these two rooms there were around a couple of dozen elderly people. Some had come by choice and others, it appeared, had remained because they couldn't understand the question, "Would you like to stay and take communion?" Even if they could, they couldn't communicate their choice and so they still remained regardless.
So there I was, service sheet handed out and elements on a table before me. I share the peace and begin the opening sentence, "The church of God, of which we are members . . ." only to hear from the other room, one of the ladies there leading her congregation in the general confession. Resolutely I continued trying not to let the schismatic element in the dining room throw me off only to hear my rival absolving her little flock.
I managed to continue and reach the distribution, even though by now my rival in the dining room appears to have blessed the congregation and is discussing the TV programme (the TV is of course, still on at that end of the room!). I start distributing the wafers, only to find that the first person I communicate takes the wafer and, opening her purse, puts it in telling me that she, "Will save it later for the bus!" I continue distributing the wafers wondering what on earth I'm doing here and why did I ever leave the wonderfully safe world of banking and finance. The rest progresses fairly well and I come to the wine.
I hadn't made it more than a few people down the line before the communicant, eschewing the more familiar, "Amen," responds with, "Who's birthday is it? Cheers me duck!" Downing the lot (I later learned to spot the 'downers' and ensure that I set up a pattern of distribution that left them until the end of the line). Thankfully I reached the end of the service with little other distress (well, apart from the lady who took her top off that is!) and packed up my one-man communion by extension show into its little box and prepared to withdraw.
As I reached the door, I turned back and gave my farewells only to see one of the recipients of my act of grace waving good-bye, a wafer fairly and squarely affixed to her forehead.
Needless to say this raised more than a few questions and a number of doubts surrounding taking communion to such an institution. I'm going to leave you with the first three of my questions from that visit and engage in them later (have to do a Start course now):
i. Was I doing communion with the residents or to them?
ii. If they didn't understand what communion was, was I right in communicating them?
iii. If they didn't understand, was I encouraging them to take communion in an 'unworthy manner' and if so, was I condemning them by my 'good works'?
Catch you later
4 comments:
You may be interested in this.
"Christine Bryden, an Australian Anglican who has Alzheimer’s disease, speaking at a conference said: ‘Where does this journey begin and at what stage can you deny me my self-hood and my spirituality? . . As I lose an identity in the world around me, which is so anxious to define me by what I do and say, rather than who I am, I can seek an identity by simply being me, a person created in the image of God. My spiritual self is reflected in the divine and given meaning as a transcendent being. . . As I travel towards the dissolution of my self, my personality, my very “essence”, my relationship with God needs increasing support from you, my other in the body of Christ, don't abandon me at any stage, for the Holy Spirit connects us, it links our souls, our spirits—not our minds or brains. I need you to minister to me, to sing with me, pray with me, to be my memory for me’.
Later, she continued, ‘I will need you to be the Christ-light for me, to affirm my identity and walk alongside me. I may not be able to affirm you, to remember who you are or whether you visited me. But you have brought Christ to me. If I enjoy your visit, why must I remember it? Why must I remember who you are? Is this just to satisfy your own need for identity? So please allow Christ to work through you. Let me live in the present. If I forget a pleasant memory, it does not mean it was not important for me. .’"
Brilliant!
Thank you for this piece.
V
I found your post resonating with me.
I work in in Lay Ministry in my Parish to take Holy Communion to 4 care homes within the Benefice.
This Ministry is one, which I regard very much as a privilege - and I find it very moving to reaffirm people, some of whom suffer from dementia that they remain members of our Parish and Community remains valued and respected. We regularly pray for them at Holy Communion and make efforts where possible to bring them to church if they wish.
Yes, there can be occasions, where things happen unexpectedly,Initially, I was surprised, but you learn to cope and to overcome this. I have never been discouraged by this, rather encouraged and I know that I am blessed to be permitted to do it.
Surprisingly, many moments of lucidity can occur, if we play music and sing a hymn together - even those who normally cannot communicate seem able to recognise the music and words and try to join in.
Like other aspects of Ministry, the care and compassion we have for those most vulnerable in our communities shapes and forms our Ministry - and perhaps brings other benefits as Care Staff and family members who may be visiting regularly join us in prayer and Holy Communion, when they might otherwise not attend a service in the church.
Another excellent post - and more grist to the mill.
Thank you,
Vic
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