I ate Jesus

Went to Mom’s church last night for Christmas Eve service, at Mom’s request, and there we were Me, Mom, Tilly, Shannon and David..and our friend Sam. The seats were mostly empty, but the preacher did his best and spoke as if the whole church were full…but the truth of the service got through my critical mind.

I found my mild resistance to going fading and my  ego rebellion too weak to disrupt the meal we had after the singing….we ate this guy called Jesus. The minister, like he was a proud chef,  had some body part on a plate andhe  tore off a piece and soaked it in blood and we ate it, bit by bit. Everyone was very solemn, like it was cool-aide or something, but as I took the offering to my mouth I smiled  at the serious priest  for a  second, every so briefly, and he smiled back, every so briefly—BAM! a crack of light, a shot of joy,  pierced the ritual mask—ever so briefly.

But after I put the meat in my mouth and swallowed, I thought…Hey, this is just some bread and wine….But I still think it was Jesus.