St Mary's

Michael Duggan has been a long time member of St Mary’s – you will remember how he delighted in being a minister of the Eucharist – albeit from his wheelchair (Though Michael doesn’t see this as necessarily “negative‟; he just sees this as part of the “fallen state” which God in God’s inimitable wisdom permits) Michael is unable to place the host in the hand of the recipient because of cerebral palsy. Many people chose to line up especially to receive communion with Michael.

Michael chose not to come down to the TLC Building to St Mary’s in exile, I think, because of his loyalty to the church – I think it was a difficult choice for him because it meant not being part of this community. He actually chose to move into this area about 20 years ago to join St Mary‟s community. He telephoned Terry and myself to tell us that he wasn‟t coming down to the TLC building – for which we were sad but understood.

However, he telephoned again last Sunday night and asked to see one of us. It was obvious from the conversation that he was missing the community but has concerned about the validity of the Eucharist at the TLC Building. So I went to see him on Tuesday and we chatted about Eucharist. I am not adept at understanding Michael – unlike his workers. No one was there to interpret for me but I understood sufficiently to be able to respond to his concerns – I think. After about an hour I left his unit – while we didn‟t have anything to eat although he offered me a cup of tea, I felt a deep sense of Eucharist/communion with him.

I think it was his vulnerability, humility. As I walked away I experienced a sense of peace, even of transformation and I promised myself that I would go and see Michael more often – not for his sake but for mine.

Earlier that morning I went down to Lotus House to see Tony Robertson about how we might make available to the community an article in Monday‟s Australian by Rosemary Sorrenson about Sam Watson‟s play OOdgeroo. I walked into Lotus House somewhat apprehensively because it is not somewhere I have gone regularly.

People were sitting around the tables talking, some there reading, others having coffee and one man with his face all painted playing a computer game whereby a bishop in all his regalia was at a bowling alley rolling the ball at a group of Nuns in full habits and knocking them for six – enjoying the game immensely.

Now the people at Lotus House have experienced physical, psychological and sexual abuse in church and government run institutions – abuse they have never been able to fully escape. I think that one of my reasons for being apprehensive about going into Lotus House was that I, an official religious person, might not be all that acceptable to the victims of such systematic abuse and yet the opposite happened – people smiling a welcome, putting out their hand to touch mine, a concern that I find Tony. I found Tony with the man at the computer game, face consorted with laughter covered in the variety of colours seemingly innocent as a child – and I was struck by the fact that this computer game was so apt a metaphor for our relationship as a community with the bishop. And I too fell about laughing. Again there was no meal but their was for myself as I walked away a sense of Eucharist/communion that left me promising myself that I must return to Lotus House – not for their sake but for mine.

During my conversation with Michael whenever I mentioned God he fell about crying, tears welling up in his eyes and I knew I was communing with mystery.

This community was accused of “not having any faith over there” and our celebration of the sacraments and the Eucharist were suspect, because institutional Catholicism demands that we can only come to the truth through the

divinely appointed brokers, totally submissive to their doctrines and correct formulas – the opposite of course is more likely to be the truth.

For it is clear from the gospel that the poor, the disadvantaged, the victims of injustice, the differently abled, all those excluded on the grounds of gender/sexual preference are the very ones that the historical Jesus welcomed to his table time and time again.

To paraphrase Dominic Crossan, “The last supper never happened but it is always happening”.

So on Tuesday I understood what Crossan meant and that I didn‟t have to explain my Theological difference to Michael or to anyone about the Eucharist as given to us by the divinely appointed brokers, with their demand for validity, that we use the right formula for Baptism or only the ordained Priest has the power to make Jesus present in the Eucharist. I don‟t have to fall into that trap anymore because I now know where to find a truly valid experience of Eucharist/communion. I don‟t have to indulge in mental Gymnastics about how Jesus got into the bread and wine or what transubstantiation is all about – no I can let go of all that now. On Tuesday there was a barbecue on the veranda of St Mary‟s house – I thought about turning up – but I noticed in the morning that the sausages were discounted – so I gave them a miss – and thereby missing out for another opportunity for Eucharist/communion. But freedom is coming.