Wine pours into a chalice somewhere behind me. It’s brief, but a sudden rush. We’re waiting here in the quiet. I notice the space again. This bread, this cup, they are prepared in our waiting. In our presence. It’s neither hasty nor efficient. It requires our presence to be what it is. Absent the community, it is but wine in a chalice. Bread on a plate. But this bread and cup, it nourishes as flesh and blood come present together.
And so we wait, present, together.
(Photo: Sandra Heska King, at Laity Lodge, used with permission)