On the one hand, The Association of Partners in Christian Education is not my usual crowd. I did not run in Presbyterian, Christian Reformed, and other denominational circles in my professional career. There are a couple of educators who have been coming to the annual APCE event every year who I have known over the years. At least two UCC pastors that I know are serving Presbyterian congregations and are at the event. But only about a dozen of the over 500 people attending this meeting were known to me before I came.

Still, I very much feel the family reunion sense of the meeting. These people are all Christian Educators and Faith Formation Professionals. Those who are ordained ministers are, for the most part, ones who have specialized in educational ministries. I speak their language. I understand some of their frustrations with denominational structures. I know how seriously they take opportunities for high quality continuing education. I know how high their standards are for excellence in education.

In an event with more than 75 workshops, however, there are bound to be a couple that are less than stellar. I happened to choose one of them yesterday. The workshop description offered a topic about which I care deeply and about which I have significant experience. It is a topic that I care about a lot. The presenter came highly recommended, has written a book on the subject, and I was expecting engaging in stimulating conversation during the three hour workshop block. Instead, The entire first hour was a lecture with the presenter being the only person in the room who talked. After that hour there was no break, but the assignment was given to reflect on a word for 5 minutes then write about that word for the next 15 minutes. At that point, I walked out of the room. I decided that reflecting and writing about the word “boring” wouldn’t be productive. I hope that there were some participants in the workshop who found the experience to be meaningful. I took the next hour and a half to have a break, a short nap, and take a stroll through the marketplace exhibits and visit the bookstore.

After my self-chosen playshop for the second part of the workshop time, I was refreshed. The plenary session that followed was excellent, with a dynamic speaker. I finished the day with a satisfied feeling of having made significant contact with beloved colleagues, learned some new things about the teaching ministry of the church, gained a few new skills, discovered a few new resources, and a general sense of having invested my time well. One poor choice of a workshop was insufficient to color my experience. And I know, from years of experience both as a participant and as a planner of such conferences, that the quality of workshop presentations can vary widely in any event that employees a large number of workshops and presenters.

One of the things that helped set up my day was that after our breakfast meetings, we gathered for a communion service with vibrant liturgy and song, excellent preaching, and a service of communion. I’ve served communion in a lot of different settings. Ive delivered communion to individuals in homes and hospitals. I have organized communion services in nursing homes and parks and camps and a wide variety of different settings. I officiated at the table at least once a month for more than four decades. I’ve written a lot of liturgies for the celebration of communion.

The celebration never has become old for me. There is something about our ritual meal that transcends the setting. I always feel a connection not only with friends and family in distant places, but also a connection with those who have gone before us and those who will come after us. With a few changes in language, the ceremony in which we participated yesterday is the same as the ceremony I’ve shared in so many other settings with so many other congregations. It is the same ceremony in which my grandfather participated when he served as legal counsel for the national gathering of the Methodist Church. It is the same ceremony that our Australian colleague shares with his Tongan congregation. It is the same ceremony that we celebrated with our sister church in Costa Rica. It is the same ceremony that our South African friends used to celebrate the end of apartheid. It is the same ceremony the pilgrims celebrated upon disembarking from the Mayflower. It is the same ceremony we celebrated at the ordination of three powerful Lakota spiritual leaders. It is the meal that Jesus shared with his disciples.

Our people have been celebrating the simple taste of bread and of the cup for thousands of years.

Others will share this sacrament long after this generation has passed from the memory of those who will come after us.

We are a part of a huge stream of history-making and of experiencing the power of God’s presence in the simple elements of communion.

While I have a distinct preference for small, intimate settings in which I have shared the sacrament, from time to time, it is also a joy to share the sacrament with a large group of people. Not only do we celebrate our role as educators, we also celebrate the core of the content that we seek to teach, knowing that it is beyond words, beyond fads of pedagogy, beyond the personalities of our leaders, beyond the peculiarities of this particular community.

We’ve passed the midway of our event. Today is mostly additional workshops with more time for making new friends and sharing with old friends. We’ve gotten into the rhythm of the event, knowing that it will soon end. Before long we’ll be traveling back home. And i am eager to get back home. I’m not someone who would enjoy having to travel all the time. This trip, however, has been worth the effort and expense. I am not only a part of my nuclear family, I am also a part of the extended family of Christian educators and faith formation leaders in the church. And here, with them, I am home.