Communion of the Tangible and Intangible.

I am a very sentimental person. Physical objects very quickly become like the physical presence of the one they represent.

At 18 years old, I felt like my high school Senior Prom was a significant event. I coordinated my jewelry appropriately - one piece of jewelry from my mom, one from my dad, and one from my grandparents. And that's how it went. My family doesn't even know I did that. Even if they did, it may not mean as much to them as it did for me. I did the same jewelry-combo for college graduation (and probably high school graduation). I still do this for events I consider significant, to some degree. On job interviews, I might wear a necklace my mom gave me, or a ring my dad gave me, or a bracelet my grandmother gave me. It varies.

At my current job, on the days I assist in surgeries, I wear my dinosaur socks. Because of our weird affinity for dinosaurs and what that insider joke has meant for my friendship with one of my very best friends, these socks (which were a 6-pack that we split between us) have come to mean something to me. They remind myself to not take myself so seriously and to enjoy life. This is especially important at my job since we switched to a new computer system; surgery days scare me because I am still trying to figure out how to input all the surgical information).

I had a sweatshirt from my dad that was even dearer to me. One of the things that bothers me any time I think about it is that I once loaned out the sweatshirt to a friend on a cold night in Chicago and I never got back. This my dad's Squadron sweatshirt from the Air Force. It was so special to me. I have tried to retrieve it, but I no longer have it and my friend doesn't remember borrowing it. When he gave it to me, I remember him saying that he was just going to get rid of it and thought I might want it. My having lost it probably doesn't bother him much or at all, but it bothers me any time I think about it because of what it represented to me.

Among other things, I have flowers preserved from two of my close friends' weddings and corresponding wedding invitations. I have a decorative prop from my high school Freshman year Homecoming dance which was particularly memorable given that I had been homeschooled before that point. I have movie ticket stubs from my 16th birthday, which would have been my worst birthday yet, had my best friends at the time not intervened. I learned then that I could trust even people outside of my own family to have my back.

Each of these sentimental objects (and vast arrays of others I didn't mention) hold meaning. They remind me who I am, what life is truly about, who my close friends/family are, and they remind me of worlds that are created through love. They remind me to be present to physical realities while being aware of existence that reaches beyond what is presently physical - and that awareness somehow reminds me how to be present fully. It's like something intangible is beckoning me to live well in the life that is immediately tangible and present. I don't know if I am being clear, but I'm not sure it can be stated too clearly unless you have ever experienced anything similar.

Because this is how I am wired, I connect easily with what are called "sacraments" in my faith. Baptism and communion being of particular importance in my faith tradition and to me personally.

I understand and accept that what follows may bother some folks. I hope that what I write brings life and a different perspective to those who are not wired similarly to me, to those who don't share my faith, and to those who disagree with my views. I also hope that it brings affirmation and joy to those who do share those things with me.

Two days from now is the "anniversary" of my baptism. June 14, 2002. Ironically, since my baptism, I have given up on many of the beliefs that I held then. I do not believe that it was at the moment of baptism that I received forgiveness for my sins. I do not believe that I "received the Holy Spirit" when I was raised from the waters. I do not believe that if I had died without baptism that I would go to hell - at least not as a result of my not having been baptized. The three things that at the time I thought were the most important... Now I find it laughable to think that I was as rigid in those beliefs as I was, given that the Bible itself has a more varied approach to baptism, less clear reasoning for it and less description of the results of it.

One of the things I was most excited about after baptism was communion. I was finally allowed to share in the life of Christ through Memory and through Sentiment with other believers. My thoughts about communion have also radically shifted since then. I don't think communion (in the way churches practice it) is necessary. I don't think it tends to reflect the idea or practice of communion in the Bible. I think the preparation to take communion in many churches is harmful rather than life-giving.

All that said, both practices are meaningful to me. I cherish them. I saw a baptism of a friend of mine a week ago. It was the second baptism I think I've seen since my own. And it caused such an emotional stir in me that I cried (admittedly, that's not hard to do). I still remember my baptism very fondly and hold it dearly. I remember the night I decided to be baptized. I remember the storm, I remember the worship, I remember some of the specific songs that we sang... I don't remember the first communion I had, but I know I remember feeling like once I could take it, I knew my identity in a new way. Did the water cause that? Did the crackers and grape juice cause it? No. But they were physical, tangible symbols that reached beyond my present reality, teaching me how to be present in a fulfilled, life-giving way in my physical reality.

Are these sacraments "special"? Yes! And no... "No" in that I think that the life lived in Christ (whether by nominal Christians or not) are lives that recognize the so-called "sacramental" nature of life itself and of each moment as it comes. "Yes" in that for me, these regular physical symbols ground me, reminding me who I am, what life is truly about, who my close friends and family are, and they remind me of worlds that are created through love. They teach me how to live a "sacramental" life.

That, I believe, is a goal of all humans everywhere. I hope and pray to be more united to those living in this way, regardless of faith, age, sexual orientation, race, ethnicity, location, addictions, etc. This is my journey and the journey of countless others. I hope that each of us can commune with others who have different stories, different hopes, and different understandings, that each of use would be the better for it individually, and that we would be shaped into a more whole and fully-functioning community.