Article and icon by Communications Associate Elizabeth (Ellie) Simpson-Falck

This week, I spent time reflecting on Corpus Christi, a celebration that did not exist in my Evangelical upbringing. My church, Church of the Ascension in Chicago, observed the feast on Sunday, June 2, which we moved from May 30 so more folks could participate. Within the overlap of celebrating Corpus Christi and the month of Pride, I found myself overwhelmed with absolute wonder and love, knowing that I, as a queer person, was welcomed by Christ to the table.

My queerness, my spouse’s, and many of my friends would have been reason enough in many traditions (including the one I grew up in) to be excluded from the table. I would have been told to give up my queerness or repent of it, lest I drink damnation on myself. Or I would have been refused the bread and the cup altogether.

Yet, that is not what I hear in the words of Christ we read together on Sunday from John 6. I heard a call to believe, a call to eat the bread, Christ’s flesh. But no condemnation for being who we are.

Nor did I hear condemnation on the lips of the preacher, Mtr. Megan Murphy-Gill, who spoke on the unity that the sacrament draws us into. She said it much more beautifully than I: “All bodies are called to this table. Nobody is too young, too old, too fat, too thin, too black, too white, too brown. Nobody is too sick or too ill, too well, too gay, too straight, too trans, too binary, too feminine, too masculine. All bodies, ALL bodies, beloved and blessed by God’s body, the body of Christ, Corpus Christi. All bodies are called to receive and experience the unity of this most holy sacrament of the altar.”

To be in a tradition that not just welcomes, but calls all of us to take this bread and this cup every Sunday is deeply spiritually moving. To feel the call of Christ and know I can follow, more than that, that I am welcomed to follow Christ in this place. As Mtr. Murphy-Gill so aptly said, “Because, when you eat this bread and drink this cup, you let this holy sacrament shine its brilliant light not just on you, but IN you. You become a sign of that sacred unity of Christ’s body to everyone. Your body becomes a beacon of the light of Christ. Your life shines Christ’s light in all of the places and on all of the powers that would like to have their say as to whose body belongs and whose body doesn’t.”

As I reflected on the mystery of Christ in the blessed Bread and Wine we consume together, on the welcoming of each of us to take, eat, remember, and believe, I was struck with awe. Christ in the bread, Christ in the wine. A holy mystery. A life-transforming mystery.

I found the image of an icon in my mind, something I felt compelled to make. Something that drew together the lines of Christ’s welcoming countenance upon all who partake in these Holy Sacraments. An icon that would be a reminder that all bodies are welcome and belong at the table.

It was to be made in the style of a stained-glass window, an art form that adorns many of our churches. It was to recognize the mystery of Christ in the elements and show through bright and recognizable colors that all are indeed welcome to partake and be reminded of these holy, life-transformative mysteries: Christ has died, Christ has risen, and Christ will come again!

Author: Ellie Simpson