The homegroup I belong to, at my church, meets each week right after the service. We walk the short distance down to the pavilion at the “football pitch” (soccer field) and grab enough chairs to facilitate our discussion.
On a recent Sunday, we had a great time celebrating the Lord's supper. There were seven of us - Sam, Mike, and myself (the old-time regulars; Jean Claude was away), Julius, Nathaniel, and Caré (regular newcomers), and my friend, Cyndi (from the States).
We sat around a table with a “khanga” (piece of colorful African fabric) as a tablecloth. I brought a loaf of homemade bread and a bottle of red wine. Sam brought juice for the teetotallers.
Our pastor, Peter Twycross, had preached on the subject the previous Sunday. Each one of us facilitated discussion on one of the points in his sermon - reading the appropriate passages of Scripture, as well as asking the prepared questions and the reflections. We each then ended with a prayer. A couple of times, we joined together holding hands as we prayed.
We had some great discussion. Some of what Peter shared was a new approach to the observation of the sacrament that we weren't familiar with. We shared openly about our reactions to these new ideas. Some we readily embraced; we struggled openly with some of the others.
After finishing the discussion and prayer time, we served one another the bread, with each one tearing off a large piece. We also asked if our neighbor preferred wine or juice and served him/her accordingly.
We took part in the elements amidst lively and warm discussion. Nathaniel (from
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