Messy Church and Communion

By Rev Sandy Brodine

I am currently writing a Communion liturgy to share at the International Messy Church Conference, and as I was hunting through my files I found some wonderful photos that brought back memories of our very first Messy Church Communion service at Banyule.

Is it significant to share Communion at Messy Church? Yes it is. In the deepest and most profound of ways.

The photos I found are from the very first Communion services we held with the two Messy Churches in the Banyule Network.

They brought back a swag of memories of a group of quite young children and their parents, none of them church goers, engaging in their first ever experience of Communion.

In order to prepare, the community engaged in a number of fun activities, including making a new Communion tablecloth, and making the elements.

Children and adults made flat breads that would be used for the bread.

Wearing gloves, they took red grapes and squished them through sieves to make grape juice.

Once we were ready we headed in to the church for our “celebration time.”

For Messy Church Communion we have created a liturgy which involves simple repeated words to be called out and ribbons to wave.

That way even the smallest ‘pre-readers’ in the congregation can join in.

We gathered around the table and everyone hung on every word.

They all eagerly received and ate the bread and the ‘wine.’

It was a deeply spiritual experience.

As we left the church, one of the mums clasped my hands with tears in her eyes.

“I never thought I’d be invited to take Communion in my life. This has meant everything to me.”

Celebrating Communion and Baptism in Messy Church communities can be some of the deepest and most uplifting experiences for people exploring Christian faith.

If you would like help planning for either Communion or Baptism in your Messy Church, contact Sandy Brodine at the Younger Gen team.

*In case you’re wondering: grape juice made by small boys squishing grapes through a sieve tastes absolutely disgusting. But the look on the small boys’ faces as they drank the wine they’d made? Priceless.