The Taste of Holy Love

In my work as a minister to children, parents often ask me, “can my child take communion before their baptism, or do they have to wait.” My rather unclear answer is, “that’s really up to you.”

I usually go on to say that I personally feel that God’s grace is big enough to cover those who are young and not yet ready to understand the full meaning of the bread and the wine. Taking holy communion can then be seen as an act of faith that is in the process of realization.

On the other hand, I say to the parents that if they want that moment to feel particularly significant and memorable, they can wait until the child’s baptism. On that occasion, we would honor their first communion at their baptism and mark it in a special way.

How’s that for riding the fence? Honestly, I am okay with whatever decision a parent makes for their child. I also am aware that different traditions treat communion for children in different ways. I respect them all.

What I have enjoyed over the years is watching the ways that children receive communion and bring their childlike approach to this sacrament.

My friend Ann bakes the most delicious communion bread. It is fragrant and sweet. It is a taste to savor. On communion Sundays when you enter the sanctuary, the aroma of this bread calls you to “come, taste, and see that the Lord is good.”

On one particular Sunday, I had made my way to the front, received my taste of the bread and cup, and walked back to my seat. As I sat on the aisle where others passed me on their way back to their pews, I watched as a very young boy around the age of four walked back to his seat with his bread in one hand and his cup in the other. As he walked, he would take a small nibble of the bread, and then a small sip of the cup. He continued with his small nibbles and sips all the way back to his seat. By the look on his face, I could tell that he was enjoying every small bite and every little sip, and he wanted to make it last.

I am sure that this young boy had no idea that he was taking part in a sacrament, but he knew the pure delight of the taste and the smell. He was experiencing joy as he walked to the front with his family and received the gifts of God for the people of God. He walked with pride back to his seat having shared a place at the table of God.

I remember other children who brought their own twist to receiving communion. Some would take a taste and sip from their parent’s elements. Others would wait until the service was over and ask for a taste of the bread. One young friend of mine used to clink his father’s small communion cup as one would do when making a toast. That one gave me pause and led me to consider that he might be on to something. It was his way of saying, “cheers to you, Jesus for your good gifts to us.”

What children have taught me over the years is to take delight in the table of God. They have taught me to taste the goodness of the bread and wine, to delight in the fellowship of those who walk to the table with me, and to know that God allows us to bring our true selves with us to the table. God will receive us and feed us no matter who we are, no matter our age or our mindset. God simply invites us to come and taste holy love.

Holy Love Is the Face of God

I have spent the last two years completing my certification in spiritual direction from the Haden Institute. My work towards this certification has led me to explore how the images of God that we develop as a child affect our relationship with God as an adult. My final project has been to create a portfolio of children’s drawings that reflect what they think God looks like or what comes to mind for them when they think about God. I have collected about 50 drawings for my project.

Studying the ways that children perceive God has been a meaningful and spiritual experience for me.

One six-year-old little girl drew God with pink pants, long brown pigtails, and extremely large brown eyes. She said, “I think God is related to me. I think of God as a never-ending mother, because moms are so nice and fun and helpful and never leave you. That’s what I love about God.”

A nine-year-old girl pictured God as a best friend who will comfort her and to whom she can tell anything. Some children pictured God as a loving king and some as a bodyguard. Eight-year-old George drew God as a big bright star, and he said, “I see God as never-ending light."

Richard Rohr says, “There is an absolute connection between how we see God and how we see ourselves and the universe. We need to see God in some way in order to relate to God, so we create an image of God that works for us and is shaped by our environment, especially our childhood.”

It seems that we have a need to give God a face. Often that face reflects us, our environment, and those who have nurtured us (or not) in our faith.

As we come to the second Sunday of Lent, we find Jesus lamenting over Jerusalem in the gospel text for this week, which is Luke 13:31-35.

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you are not willing!”

In scripture, we find many images of God. We read of God as light, joy, love, wisdom, beauty that fills the earth, the rock we stand on, fire that purifies, and many other images. Then in his frustration over Herod – that old fox – Jesus likens himself to a hen. A hen?! Come on Jesus, at least consider comparing yourself – your God-self – to a rooster, not a hen! Of all the animals you could have chosen, why not a tiger or a bear, or at the very least an eagle – but a hen?

I think that Jesus selected this image very carefully. He intentionally chose to compare himself to a mother hen, whose chief purpose in life is to protect her young. She doesn’t have the spurs or talons of a rooster, all she has is her squawky voice and her fluffed up feathers to put between herself and danger.

But more importantly, the other defensive technique that she has is her hope that she can save her chicks by satisfying the appetite of the fox herself. She is willing to lay down her life.

In this image of Jesus, we see God as a mother hen with chicks tucked securely underneath her protective wings. This way of imagining God turns our thinking upside down. There are foxes in our lives. There are things and people who want to steal us away from God; people who want to crush our spirits and weaken our resolve. It is in these situations that we look for God to be our shield, our fortress, and our rock. Those are the powerful metaphors that we lean on, but here Jesus gives us an alternative metaphor.

In Luke’s gospel, Jesus speaks of hens and chickens. The journey that Jesus is on is leading to the cross, and in this case, God isn’t coming to us as a powerful mother bear protecting her cubs or an eagle ready to snatch us up to safety. God is unpredictable, and often God’s way is the way of the meek and the lowly. Luke gives us a God who shows up like a mother hen, a God who weeps with us, and a God who knows what it is to lose.

Jesus’ lament over Jerusalem is because, again and again, his children have behaved like a cunning fox. Jesus has chosen a better way – the way of the hen – the way of laying down his life for the sake of another, so that all may live. In God’s kingdom, the way of the mother hen wins against the fox.

Lent is a season for us to decide how we want to live our lives. Do we put our trust in the power of the mother hen, or do we prefer the ways of the world and the sly fox? Do we seek to offer shelter to those in need or do we only provide for ourselves? Are we willing to stand between those who are weak and the enemy? Will we model our lives in the ways of the mother hen or follow the path of the fox.

In all of the drawings that I received from children for my project, it was no surprise that no one drew God as a mother hen. However, many of them depicted God with motherly qualities. Their drawings and words reflected a God who is present and protective. They spoke of a God who feels real and close. Children and baby chicks know who their protectors are. They know who loves them and will shelter them under their protective wings.

Holy Love In Barren Places

Where will love take us during this season of Lent? Love led Jesus to a wilderness - to a barren place where he faced the fullness of his humanity. He was hungry. He was tired. He was tested. Jesus' wilderness was the place of preparation for ministry. It was where he prepared to set out on his task of carrying God's love to the world.

Before he went into the wilderness, God marked Jesus as a beloved Son and affirmed Jesus' role in God's plan. Then the Spirit led him to the barren place. Barren places are hard places to be. They are dry, flat, and uncomfortable. While they may be places for preparation and purification, they aren't easy places to dwell. We sense from scripture that Jesus struggled and became weary, and then the devil himself shows up. In this barren space, Jesus learned the cost of surrendering to God's will.

The Spirit sometimes leads us to a barren place. We enter that place for our own time of purification and preparation. We do this because God also calls us "beloved." In these places, we allow God to hold us in love and pour out devotion upon our lives just as he did for Jesus.

Sometimes it is not the Spirit but circumstances that lead us to the wilderness. Our recent days have been marked with barrenness, and we have had to discern God's presence. We have endured a global pandemic, political division, and unrest. Our brothers and sisters in Ukraine and Russia are suffering under the reality of war. Fear, doubt, loneliness, and uncertainty surround us.

The work of Lent is to discover that even in the barren places we can be tempted and loved at the same time. We can discover that our thirst is only quenched by living water. The wilderness teaches us that hurting and hoping go hand in hand. This is what love does for us. This is how God's holy love becomes real for us.

The question for us is how will we allow the barren places to shape us. Will we give into the allure of a tempting rescue, or will we sit and wait on God? Will we accept that God has created us and accepts us in all of our humanity with a complete and unconditional love? Sit with God, and allow the holy love of God to remind you that you are God's beloved child.