Second Eucharist

In the Episcopal Church, one must be ordained as a priest in order to preside at the Eucharist (aka The Lord's Supper or Communion). Generally, after ordination, a great deal of attention is paid to one's first Eucharist. Friends and family who traveled for the ordination often stick around to participate in the service. It's wonderful, amazing, powerful, terrifying, and all a bit unreal.

I was ordained priest on October 7, 2006, and presided at my first service the next day in Ontonagon. I was blessed to have more than a dozen friends and family members who could be there. Some things went wrong, mostly it was fine, and I felt thankful that there are other priests in my life who were willing to take the time to work with me beforehand, so that I felt pretty comfortable with what I was supposed to do.

Yesterday, I presided at my second Eucharist. Driving to Ironwood (65 miles each way) I experienced what I have experienced every Sunday since coming to the UP: profound gratitude at being here, in this place, and with these people, doing this work. Part way to Ironwood, what started as a bit of frozen rain turned into serious snow. By the time I arrived, later than I'd hoped, it was snowing in earnest.

I had just enough time to check in with the others who would be part of the service, Mel as deacon, Jake as acolyte, Maj-Britt as reader. I spread my chausible out on the altar rail. I set the ribbons where I needed them in the altar book. I took a look at the church from behind the altar in the presider's position.

Then, I went back to the office to vest. Alb. Cincture. That felt normal. I've been putting those things on for years. Then came the stole. Only those ordained wear stoles, in the Episcopal church. Deacons wear them over the left shoulder, crossed in front, fastened under the right arm. Priests wear them around the neck, hanging down in front. My green stole (for we are still in that long green season after Pentecost) was a gift from Anne and Lucia, when I was ordained deacon. I put it on, along with my VTS pectoral cross. And I realized that I am, in fact, a priest. That fact has hit me, occasionally, over the last two weeks. Say, when someone asked me what I do. But somehow, in the office in Ironwood, it became real for me.

We prayed, Mel made some announcements, and the service began. At the Eucharist, Mel prepared the table and I took my place, standing behind the altar. Given the floor plan in Ironwood, the folks in the back row might as well be in Hurley, WI (several miles down the road!). Somehow, I hadn't really noticed how far away they were, when the church was empty.

"Better project," I thought. I took a deep breath, and began: "The Lord be with you." And I was there. Praying with those who had gathered. Again, it flashed through my head that I am, in fact, a priest. That I was praying the ancient prayer of the church. That I was presiding at the liturgy (liturgy=the work of the people, btw) of the table. With our prayers, bread and wine became body and blood. And like all of creation, it was very good.