"Tear the Bread, Pour the Juice"

By Jann Kibe

Bread and juice, A nibble of sliced bread dipped in grape juice,

Set the table, set our hearts up, set respect up to go before us,

The pastor preaches of Jesus’ body breaking … breaking for us.

While my mom and I sit and watch from behind a television screen,

Church at home, comfy and separated from larger physical community,

The congregation that meets in-person will drink from plastic cups,

But the bread and juice we drink doesn’t make us any less Christian,

Less a part of the body, less mindful of how Jesus came,

Less aware of the current state … yes, we still have a seat,

We have a seat at the table, our coffee table, Where one chair leg, damaged, still wobbles,

But here, the steadiness of our faith isn’t shaken; it’s strengthened, In this moment of concentrated listening and enabled connection,

As we share a torn off piece of sliced bread and quickly drink the juice in unison, The pastor continues preaching to the people among him and those watching on their screens,

While we sit and listen, gathering warmth from our bodies sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, closely, For the one time each week where common interest collides with relationship producing shared activity,

Like a great occasion, the comfort of regularly attending service together brings:

New light, new life, new tightening of our bond,

Just as community outside home is the mission, for me, community inside is also an intentional decision,

Sermon notes written furiously but all that’s needed is open ears, open hearts, open spirit to be convicted,

Imaging Jesus, the Savior, speaking soft and humble, I want to say the words that come to me, loud and simply

Bread and juice

Right now, this is my community,

Not out there,

But simply a mother and her daughter in their home

Bread and juice, Body and blood,

Joyfully, The pained expression … gone,

Dead, Resurrected

Family, Reconnected

Blood, Liberated

Bread and juice, Body and blood,

Sacrificed, So meaningful to us,

When we pause, To think deeply

Like it’s our first time, And we’ve freshly been saved and called son/ daughter Knowing where we came from, And how much we’re forgiven of

Beyond the bread and juice, Let me truly empathize as I visualize the cross,

Jesus. Jesus. Jesus.

Dead, dawn, Risen up … so high, we can dare to have hope for our lives.

Jann Kibe is a Kenyan-American writer and social impact enthusiast living in the Dallas, Texas, metroplex. Over the course of the past two years, she has cherished taking communion with her mom, and doing church at the home she shares with her mom and two brothers. She is excited about getting the opportunity this year to take communion in-person at her home church while keeping the intimate spirit of communion with her mom alive.