Person1: "The body of Christ given for you." [Holds out a plate of crackers.]
Person2: "Amen" [Takes a piece of cracker.]
Person1: "The blood of Christ shed for you." [Holds out a glass of wine.]
Person2: "Amen" [Dips cracker into glass of wine and puts cracker in mouth.]
[Reverse roles]
My husband and I never thought we'd be administering communion to each other this way. We always thought this was only done by either ordained priests/ministers or designated laypersons. But we agreed that it was a way to fully participate in an Easter service put up on YouTube by our local church back in Portland, Oregon. [We also had the option of attending another service by Zoom and we did attend the virtual coffee hour via that app in between services.]
One more thing to add to the list of 'unprecedenteds' in our lives in this time of Covid-19...
In any case, it was good to connect to a faith community - something that we took for granted as we went about our so-called humanitarian work around the world, becoming "Easter Christians" in the process. As if being strong in one's faith goes against the humanitarian principles of humanity, impartiality, neutrality and independence...When maybe, in fact, having a strong base of faith (be it Christian, Muslim, Jew, Buddhist, Hindu, etc.) frees oneself to truly advocate for these principles to meet the needs of populations we are supposed to serve.
But it's easy to go on with humanitarian work because of the privileges it provides - travel, R&R, danger or hardship pay, per diems, etc. or because one could not earn this much or enjoy travel and other benefits with a regular job back in the U.S. It's easy to get lost in these perks and stay in the sector because it is comfy. It's easy to get cocooned comfortably in secured compounds, houses or apartments and not worry about not being able to pay the rent at the end of the month.
There are good reasons to professionalize humanitarian work and make it competitive, benefits-wise, with job markets of other sectors. There are good reasons to keep humanitarian actors as safe as possible. But sometimes, one seeks to strip the work of all its wrappings and be able to ask one's self, will I seek to serve the needy if I only get paid this much or if I may have to sacrifice personal comforts or even my life?
That would be the next unprecedented...or perhaps a return to some precedent before we erected all these structures in how we respond to the world's humanitarian crises?
Person2: "Amen" [Takes a piece of cracker.]
Person1: "The blood of Christ shed for you." [Holds out a glass of wine.]
Person2: "Amen" [Dips cracker into glass of wine and puts cracker in mouth.]
[Reverse roles]
My husband and I never thought we'd be administering communion to each other this way. We always thought this was only done by either ordained priests/ministers or designated laypersons. But we agreed that it was a way to fully participate in an Easter service put up on YouTube by our local church back in Portland, Oregon. [We also had the option of attending another service by Zoom and we did attend the virtual coffee hour via that app in between services.]
One more thing to add to the list of 'unprecedenteds' in our lives in this time of Covid-19...
In any case, it was good to connect to a faith community - something that we took for granted as we went about our so-called humanitarian work around the world, becoming "Easter Christians" in the process. As if being strong in one's faith goes against the humanitarian principles of humanity, impartiality, neutrality and independence...When maybe, in fact, having a strong base of faith (be it Christian, Muslim, Jew, Buddhist, Hindu, etc.) frees oneself to truly advocate for these principles to meet the needs of populations we are supposed to serve.
But it's easy to go on with humanitarian work because of the privileges it provides - travel, R&R, danger or hardship pay, per diems, etc. or because one could not earn this much or enjoy travel and other benefits with a regular job back in the U.S. It's easy to get lost in these perks and stay in the sector because it is comfy. It's easy to get cocooned comfortably in secured compounds, houses or apartments and not worry about not being able to pay the rent at the end of the month.
There are good reasons to professionalize humanitarian work and make it competitive, benefits-wise, with job markets of other sectors. There are good reasons to keep humanitarian actors as safe as possible. But sometimes, one seeks to strip the work of all its wrappings and be able to ask one's self, will I seek to serve the needy if I only get paid this much or if I may have to sacrifice personal comforts or even my life?
That would be the next unprecedented...or perhaps a return to some precedent before we erected all these structures in how we respond to the world's humanitarian crises?
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