Thoughts on Communion

The first Sunday of the month, I took communion. No great surprise that; communion is usually served the first Sunday of the month in many churches. 

But for some reason, this communion reached me deeply. It wasn’t the message (though that was good). It wasn’t the music--though that was quite good as well. It wasn’t even the act of taking communion proper; I’ve taken communion for a good many years now in a number of settings ranging from one done in a serviceman’s ministry I belonged to at Great Lakes to a Catholic church in Concord, CA, and a lot of places in between. (Okay, in all fairness I knew at the time that Catholics practice closed communion. I took it anyway.) 

No, what brought me comfort this day was the ritual of communion. In the United Methodist Church, we often start communion with the Great Thanksgiving (also known as Word and Table 1): 

The Lord be with you. And also with you. 
Lift up your hearts. We lift them up to the Lord. 
Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.

It is right to give our thanks and praise.

The liturgy, of course, continues on from there. But for some reason, it was the mechanics--the doing of the liturgy, as many have for years, decades, and centuries before me, and will do long after I’ve been translated to glory, should God tarry--that spoke to me. 

The bread and cup, that representation and reminder of what Christ did on the cross for you, me, and the rest of the world is not like anything else in any other religion. Just a quick look at the Wikipedia page shows only Christian references (in terms of religion, at least). 

“Take, eat, and be comforted; Drink, and remember too
That this is my body and precious blood shed for you, shed for you”

(From the musical “Celebrate Life”)

The thought that others around the church universal were taking communion-- many of whom were using the Great Thanksgiving as well--and of those who had gone before, using the same liturgy spoke volumes to me that day. I can’t really explain why I found it so comforting. 

But take comfort in it I did. 

On further reflection, I contemplated that sometimes it is the actual act of taking communion that speaks. After all, this is the remembrance of the Last Supper. It is the revisiting of the Lord Jesus Christ’s last meal before His crucifixion, and all that means to the Christian. Sometimes it is the bread and cup itself, and partaking of it reminds us of the Wedding Feast to come. 

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of

witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that

clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race

that is set before us.” (Heb 12:1, NRSV)

And yes, sometimes it is the mechanics of why we do what we do. That reminder of the great cloud of witnesses, those saints and loved ones that have gone before, looking down and cheering us on to the finish line, as we try to run the race. I can imagine my grandparents, Dawson Trotman, founder of the Navigators, Billy Sunday, my Dad, D.L. Moody, my “maiden aunts”, John Wesley, and everyone else translated to glory looking down on us...all of us. Wesley’s own thoughts on this verse: “A great multitude, tending upward with a holy swiftness, of the power of faith.”

It is, in the final analysis, that power of faith that carries us. The mechanics of the liturgy reminded me of that power of faith that day. 

Enough for now. 

Your World Champion San Francisco Giants

It had to happen, eventually. The law of averages finally had to catch up; surely it had to this year...didn't it? 

Last night, it finally did. 

After 33 years of waiting, I can finally say it: Ladies and Gentlemen, YOUR WORLD CHAMPION SAN FRANCISCO GIANTS!

Wow. It seems a bit surreal to a Giants fan that still has his program from his first Giants game...in 1977. (Charlie K, I don’t think I can say thank you enough for introducing me to the Orange and Black.)

I didn’t think this year was going to work out. I mean, back in August the Giants were, what? 6 1/2 games back of San Diego?  Then came September and they went 18-8, and took NL west from San Diego on the last day of the regular season. 

Then it was playoff time. They split a pair at home, then swept Atlanta at Turner  Field. Then to Philly--split a set there, won two at home, then had to go back to Philly. They couldn’t possibly win it there. But they did, and suddenly they were in the World Series.

And then it happened. 11-7 and 9-0 in the first two games. On to Texas, where I honestly expected them to lose. (They did, 4-2.) They won game 4 in a masterful game pitched by a man just barely old enough to buy a beer, Madison Bumgarner, 4-0. 

And then came game five. Tim Lincecum did what he does best: served up 8 innings of really good pitching. Brian Wilson took over in the 9th, and that was that.

This year makes up for a few things. You know, like 2002 when they collapsed to the Angels--THE ANGELS, for cryin’ out loud! Like 1994, when the strike did damage beyond the diamond. Like 1989, when more than the team collapsed: the Cypress structure, the Marina District and part of the Bay Bridge collapsed as well. (That was painful for me personally as I was in school in Chicago that year.) Like 1985, when they dropped 100 games--100!!!--and I was in Navy Boot Camp, and had to suffer through a miserable summer being away from home...and having to hear that the Giants had “...blown another game.”  And yes, like 1978 when they had some great players...and lost toward the end of the season to the Dodgers. 

There’s been a long line of Giants greats. Oh, sure--Willie Mac, Willie Mays, Orlando “The Baby Bull” Cepeda, Juan Marichal. Jack “The Ripper” Clark. Will “The Thrill” Clark. David Dravecky. Vida Blue, John “The Count” Montefusco, Robby Thompson, and Gaylord Perry. Steve “Bedrock” Bedrosian. Bob Brenly. Dave “Rags” Righetti. Yes, both Barry and Bobby Bonds. Jose Uribe. The Alou brothers. Duane Kuiper and Mike Krukow. Jeff Kent and JT Snow. So many more.

Now you can add to that list Tim “The Freak” Lincecum, Brian “The Beard” Wilson, Juan Uribe (Jose’s nephew), Edgar Renterria, Pablo Sandoval, Aubrey Huff, Pat Burrell, Brian Posey, and the rest of the crew.

Managers: Roger Craig, Frank Robinson, Dusty Baker, Bruce Bochy. Class acts, all of them. Might as well mention owners and managing partners as well: Bob Lurie, Peter Magowan, and current principal shareholder Bill Nuekom. Congratulations, Bill!

A lot of good memories, too. All those night games at the ‘Stick. I still have my Croix de Candlestick, earned--the hard way--in a late night extra-inning game more years back than I want to admit. It’s the only place I’ve ever been where the American flag blew to the left and the California flag blew to the right...at the same time. You could always tell the tourists at the ‘Stick...they were blue by the middle of the fourth. (Locals brought parkas and sleeping bags.) We won’t talk about the fog. (Or that miserable crab mascot, either.) 

And when I couldn’t go to a game, I often listened on the radio or on TV. Lon Simmons, Hank Greenwald, Ron Fairly, Duane Kuiper and Mike Krukow. KSFO at first, then KNBR. TV was KTVU forever, with a lot of the same names.

I have a lot of Giants gear: The warmup jacket, a jersey, wristbands, several fitted hats (one of which still fits), pennants, buttons, a tie, programs, Giants magazines, some pocket schedules, a stuffed bear in a Giants t-shirt, and a baseball card of me in a Giants jersey and hat. (And even more stuff, including several years worth of Mother’s Cookies baseball cards.) I know I’ve driven people crazy sometimes--I’m okay with that. 

This came so fast that San Francisco fans didn’t quite know how to celebrate: only five known arrests as of this morning. Me? I celebrated quietly, made a few phone calls and called it a night. Too much to do today.

However...I’ve been a Giants fan for a long time, and this has been a long time coming. 

I tip my hat to the G-Men...the World Champions!