10/04/2026
"He wasn't asking for bread."
In the faith that I inherited from my great-grandmother communion happens once a month, on the first Sunday of every month. And the first Sunday of October is always World Communion Sunday, an annual observance where churches across the globe, of multiple denominations, celebrate connection and unity.
On this World Communion Sunday, I am not seated at a table or partaking any elements. But I am very curious about what it looks like for churches to connect with those society relegates to the margins and to advocate for the most vulnerable.
The “christianity” that is most vocal in our country right now is singing for violence and revenge. It supports separating families. It condones oppressing whole communities. It laughs at compassion and empathy. It mocks love and mercy. It offers food to a select few, while thousands go hungry. It seeks a unity that requires strict division and is maintained by force.
Today I am thinking less about communion and more about people around the world who are suffering. I am remembering a conversation I had with a man named Muhammad while he was held in an immigrant detention center. He wasn’t asking for bread. He sought connection. He wanted someone to listen. In our brief interaction I learned more about god and forgiveness than I ever have from a seminary course or sermon.
In my book, NOT MY GRANDMOTHER'S HYMNAL, there is a poem titled HOUR OF DEPORTATION that tells more about my encounter with Muhammad. As part of my work with The Good Listening Project, this poem has been transformed into a beautiful video.
As you experience the poem, allow yourself to reflect on the world as we know it and the world as we hope it to be. Are there places of disconnection where your voice might be a bridge? How do we bring forth unity that does not require us to forsake our uniqueness and diversity?
In this video, Certified Listener Poet Rebecca Wilson shares her po...
