Communion at Kacwamba

The group waited until after we walked back from baptising in the river to enjoy communion.
They asked Ronald to lead it. The older men plus Ronald and I sat in rickety wooden chairs facing the rest of the group. Between us was a small wooden table covered with a white net material.
Ronald removed the covering and under it were two (coke) bottles of Fruity Marinda, two packets of cookies, some plates and some small plastic disposable cups and a cloth.
There were only ten plastic cups. The kind they use at the medical clinic to give pills to the refugees. The cups were cracked and dirty.
Ronald wispered to me,"Do you think they found these cups?"
The entire group watched as they opened the bottles and Ronald began pouring a small amount of red soda in each cup.
He took the cups on a plate and gave them out one by one to the first ten. Then he was told to take the cloth and wipe out the cups and refill them again.
He wiped out a few but because of the look on his face they brought a small bucket of water to dip the cups into.
It was not a calm reflective kind of communion as the visiting church became impatient and began to talk and then beat on the drums as some sang.
They were all wanting lunch and the women began serving the food before Ronald was even finished. They gave the old men their food first.
Ronald sat down and commented on how the men were eating in front of the children.
We were stuck. We would now have to stay and eat.
I thought of the Agape feast of the early church as communion was part of a meal.

Ronald told them that he was sick. He has mono. He got out of eating because his throat was sore.
"How do feel about eat food cooked in the refugee camp?" He warned me to be careful.
The first thing they set before us was two big plates of eggs.
"I was told those were cooked this morning. Ten hours ago.
They brought out rice, boiled meat, kasava posho, beans soaked in palm oil,and pineapple.
I ate three bowls of rice with meat and pinapple. The other things cooked in palm oil tend to make us sick. I am probably more likely to eat in a place like this then Ronald is.
The Sun went behind the Rwenzori mountains so we had to "force them to release us".
We had come to help with the baptisms at the Sunday morning service. They had only kept us five extra hours.
It was an interesting Communion service. It did remind me of the simplicity and commonality of the "emblems".
We in the West tend to imagine the death of Jesus very clean and sterile. Our Golden polished communion sets are much fancier then what Christ would have used. Because of our cultural value of hygien we won't even share communion from the same cups.
We would probably be distracted by wondering what disease we might get from the others who drank before us. The meaning from the "blood of the covenant" could be lost.
I love worshiping cross culturally and cross economically the Lord continues to show me new things and gives a new perspective to old traditions.
To Christ I am the one who is dirty. I come with dirty hand and dirty lips to drink from his cup.
He smiles at me and says, "Welcome!"