Forgiveness and the Eucharist

I hold up the bread. "The Body of Christ," I say. I look into the communicant's eyes and smile. And repeat, seventy-five times.

The campus minister from a school down the road insists upon the use of those four words. Not, "This is the Body of Christ," not "Mary, the Body of Christ," not "Behold, the Body of Christ," or any such variations. When you say, "The Body of Christ," she explains, you are declaring that this bread is the Body of Christ, but also that this communicant is the Body of Christ, that you are the Body of Christ, that this gathered Church is the Body of Christ. So when I act as a Eucharistic Minister (or Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion, as I have learned is the "proper" title), I use those four words, and I acknowledge Christ in all the incarnations of the Eucharist.

I distribute the Eucharist pretty consistently every Sunday, and normally it's a straightforward process. The Eucharist amazes and awes me, but even the most sacred events can be calm with familiarity. But, every now and again, I have moments like this past Sunday.

I was upset with someone last week. Not in a huge, affecting-my-life kind of way, but definitely not at peace with this person. I found my position to distribute the Host, and suddenly I realized that said person was walking towards the altar -- towards me. I wasn't in a place where I could look at that person, smile, and say, "The Body of Christ," recognizing God in that person, in me, and in the gathered community of which we were both a part.

There was the possibility of handing this person the Host, with the proper words, but letting the smile slip away and not letting our eyes meet. It wouldn't disrupt the Mass, and, truth be told, this person might not even notice. But I couldn't do that. It might not disrupt the Mass, but it would disrupt my heart and, let's be honest (if slightly hokey-sounding), Jesus would notice.

So, in a swift twisting of the heart that can only be attributed to God at work in me, I forgave. I saw it as completely necessary, and so, through grace, it happened. I do not normally forgive that quickly or that spontaneously; this truly was the work of God in me.

However, it got me thinking. I could forgive this someone for an act that upset me a little bit. But there are some people in the world whom I have not forgiven for longer periods of time. People to whom I could not say, "The Body of Christ" and smile and acknowledge Christ in them and in me and recognize their divinity and our unity in Christ. These people are not likely to turn up in my communion line (or at the Sign of Peace, another time when it's hard to hold grudges), but what if they did? What would I do? And how can I work now on forgiving them? After all, this dilemma reflects a problem within my own heart, one that I need to start fixing.