Robert Wanga

When I think of sacraments, my mind wan­ders to an incident during my early child­hood. When I was four years old, my sister and I strayed into a Catholic church, where we stumbled onto a priest celebrating midweek mass. The beauty and mystery of this event is forever etched on my mind, be­holding the priest immaculately clad in his colorful vest­ments, the burning of incense, the use of the Latin language, and the candle arrangements. It all exuded an aura of holi­ness beyond our comprehension. Both of us beheld the priest in such wonder that we thought he was directly conversing with God as he officiated in the Eucharist.

During my teenage years, I came to encounter the sac­raments in a more personal way. I was first baptized as an Anglican at age fourteen, in conformity to the wishes of my parents. Two years later, even before the Anglican bishop could confirm me, I had a conversion experience in another denomination and decided to turn my life over to Christ. I went into the waters of baptism out of personal choice and the persuasion that doing so was in fulfillment of Jesus’ com­mand. I sensed Christ’s presence in my life in a dimension I had never felt before.

Several years later, I was invited to be baptized in the Community of Christ. The significance of the event, for me, was in seeking social and spiritual acceptance as I extended my ministry and discipleship into this new faith community. Baptized by immersion in the Indian Ocean, I felt myself in­corporated into the family of Christ, which has no racial or national or even continental boundaries

Now, as I ponder my personal growth from a child to an adult, and from a beginning disciple to a teacher/minister, I understand sacraments to be the unifying bond between me and other Christian brothers and sisters. Sacraments serve as a reminder of how vulnerable, conceited, and self-serving I can be if I am not attached to other disciples. The sacrifice and humility of Christ are consistently brought to the fore whenever we engage in sacramental events.

The Lord’s table of Communion is one of my most signifi­cant sacraments. Every month, and through the various fel­lowship events that the church holds, I always long for the opening and closing Communion service. It represents, for me, the place where the equal worth of every individual is evidenced. In the kneeling, the sharing of a common prayer, and the partaking of the same elements, we are all humbled as well as lifted as we are reminded of the need for the minis­tries, gifts, and the enabling presence of other disciples, how­ever strong or weak they may be.

Nevertheless, I still struggle with the sacraments of mar­riage and administration to the sick. Often I wonder why marriages break and why individuals who are administered to, do not always get immediate relief. Whenever I am asked to officiate over a wedding or preside in an administration to the sick, especially for those going through terminal illnesses like HIV-AIDS, I shudder at the thought that my prayers may never make a difference. But I nonetheless rely on the grace of God and act in the stead of Christ, calling on the promise of the Holy Spirit’s presence.

The sacraments are at one and the same time concrete and symbolic. In them we use objects and words to point toward a reality that is transcendent. Yet at the same time the Love they symbolize is immanent—as real and present as the very emblems of Communion, which, through sight and touch, taste and smell, nourish both body and spirit.