Eucharist and Charismatic Worship
In the fall of 2001 I went with a SOMA team (Sharing of Ministry abroad) to help lead the Diocese of Namirembe into the renewal of the Holy Spirit. Just before our conference was to begin, our team attended the last two days of another conference. This conference included representatives of most of the dioceses of Uganda, and it was also dedicated to renewal in the Holy Spirit.

The last night of this conference was exceptional. It began, however, in the afternoon with the most powerful event of reconciliation I had ever seen. Members of various tribes that had fought each other, tortured, raped, disemboweled, and killed each other, came together to confess their sins against each other. They repented, threw their arms around each other, and wept and prayed before the Lord. That evening, their repentance bore fruit as we came into the presence of God. The service began with a sermon by one of the Ugandan bishops, one of the most powerful and articulate sermons I have ever heard. Then, that evening, we began a prayer and praise service of unusual intensity. The singing, the praise, the sermon, the surrendering to God was astonishing. We ascended into the heavens and came before the throne of the Great God Almighty. I will never forget it.

The following evening, we began our conference with the Diocese of Namirembe. The conference was divided into three sections, a conference with the clergy, one with their wives, and then, a final conference with the lay leadership of the Diocese. The latter conference was attended by about 200 persons.

For me, the women's conference was the best. We had been briefed on what to expect. Their lives were brutal -- endless responsibilities, poverty, the role of women in their society. Some of it was quite horrific. We knew that many of them had broken down and committed serious sins. We knew they carried loads that only Christ could bear. The second afternoon, we gave a talk on repentance, forgiveness, and laying down our sin, shame, and burdens at the foot of the cross. We made a wooden cross and placed it in front of all of us. Then we invited the women to come forward so they could physically lay hold of the cross. There was room at the cross for only about four at a time. As soon as one came forward, one of us would accompany them, and stand with them silently praying while they took hold of the cross, repented, received forgiveness, and laid their burdens down. All of this was done in absolute, intense silence.

Just before we asked them to come forward, the leader of our team asked me to lead us all in prayer, that we would truly come to the cross and be redeemed. I stood before them and started to pray. Suddenly a force fell upon me, and I cried out to God, begging him to convict us all of every wrong thing that we had ever done. Then I fell upon the floor, kneeling with my face just inches from the concrete. I was not forced down, but I suddenly sensed that I must humble myself before them as Christ had done. When I fell to the floor, I entered that awful place of weeping and gnashing of teeth that I had known so many years ago when I had been in hell.  I grit my teeth to keep from crying aloud while the tears leaked out of my eyes and made a little pool beneath my face on the floor. Then in dead silence, the women came up, walking around me to lay hold of the cross. I stayed there immobile for about an hour, hurting from head to foot, but not getting up, for I sensed that my humiliation brought them face to face with the suffering of Christ himself.

After that, we went to dinner. On the way to the dining hall we danced, two by two, singing as we danced. After dinner we returned to the church, still singing and dancing. Once in the church, a remarkable outpouring of joy took hold of us. Our singing took on an exceptional intensity. It seemed as if the church was filled with light, although the electricity had gone off and we were lit by candles. This was the light seen on the Mountain of the Transfiguration, the light of Christ, and in that light we ascended into heaven. It was indescribable. Then, one of our friends, a man named Rufus from Sudan, who just happened to be there and attended all our conferences, went down front and took the cross we had used that afternoon. He placed it upon his shoulders and began to carry it. Suddenly he fell, Christ beneath the load, and at that moment I saw into the very heart of God the horrific suffering and shame of God on the cross, and yet, he had conquered all suffering, all sorrow, all sin, and all grief forever in joy.

Both worship services described here were preceded by repentance. The women came forward and repented before the cross, and in the other service, those present asked forgiveness of each other and wept and prayed together. Both services were profound, but of the two, I found myself most affected by the women's service. With the woman, the cross was more visibly present. It was there before us, physically visible. We had laid hold of it and it was borne by Rufus in a moment of unspeakable joy. In the charismatic service the cross was not as apparent, and our praise was directed to the throne of God Almighty. This is true of many charismatic services, the participants come before the throne. With the women's service, we came before the cross, and at the same time, we were lifted with the Lord Jesus to the right hand of the Father who sits upon the throne.  There we saw the dreadful suffering love of God coupled with the exaltation of his glorious majesty. This, to my mind, is more glorious than coming before the throne. Isaiah came before the throne, but the apostles saw the Lord Jesus in his resurrected glory, a glory that still bore the wounds of his love.

These words are from John 7:39: "By this he [Jesus] meant the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were later to receive. Up to that time the Spirit had not been given, since Jesus had not yet been glorified." The Spirit had not been given in his fullness because one of the principle works of the Spirit is to take us into glory with Jesus. At that point in the gospel of John 7:39, that glory had yet to occur, and it only occurred in the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus. Then, and only then, could one fully know the indescribable suffering love of God that results in joy. That is why the women's conference was so powerful, we went from terrible suffering, to the cross, and then into his glory.

Every Sunday morning, in churches all over the world, believers celebrate the Holy Eucharist. The Eucharist is a reenactment of Jesus death and resurrection, physically representing these events as did Rufus when he carried the cross. In spite of the intensity of what happened in Africa, these perceptions of glory were, at least for me, no more profound than the perceptions of intense love of God that come with the Holy Eucharist. That has happened to me everywhere, even in traditional churches with rather staid Episcopal worship. For there, in Eucharist, the cross and Christ's ascension into glory come together. There one stands before the cross, there one hears the Seraphim, there one joins the heavenly chorus of angels and archangels and all the company of heaven. There one sees the great God upon the throne in light, there one knows the deep humiliation of Christ, and there one is lifted into a glory so intense that we know that we will live forever in his love. This is the thing, the very thing, we all long for, and we will never be truly happy until this is the fundamental reality of our lives.

I believe in charismatic worship. There people see the face of God. There they come before the throne. There sinners repent, are forgiven, placed upright. There people are healed and demons sent away. But these services often happen without Eucharist. For that reason, as great as they are and as necessary, and they are necessary, they cannot compare with seeing the great yet humbled God face to face in the Holy Eucharist. And when that happens in Eucharist, and it does, God is all in all.

The Rev. Robert J. Sanders, Ph.D.
November, 2002

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