Book Review: The Sacred Meal By Nora Gallagher

The Sacred Meal
By Nora Gallagher
Thomas Nelson, $17.99, 150 pp.

Reviewed by Martha K. Baker


    Early in The Sacred Meal, Nora Gallagher writes: “...think of those who gather at Communion as the body of Jesus.” That thought threads through to the end when she describes a group of prisoners. They are bent on not barring communion behind bars, but they have neither wine nor bread. They have only each other, so, Gallagher writes, when the “celebrant” is ready to communicate in Jesus’ words, he “holds out his empty hands, and says, ‘This is my body, which is given for you.’”
    I defy you not to cry at those words, in that institution.

    Heartfelt tears are a natural consequence of reading this little book. The Sacred Meal is part of The Ancient Practices Series, under the editorial guidance of Phyllis Tickle, who provides this book’s Foreword. Gallagher, a leading laywoman in the Episcopal Church, concentrates on communion in a way rare outside of inquirers’ classes or seminary seminars. Why, she even dedicates a chapter to waiting, to that time in line with someone ahead and someone behind, intent.

    Who ever thought of that time as significant?
    Gallagher does.

    To her, waiting is one-third of taking communion; receiving and “aftering” are the other parts. She writes about waiting in line after she has looked at the “Scotch Tape and Baling Wire” fix that is communion and after she has considered the rite as a practice. She also covers “magic” and “myths” and history, as well as feeding and “going out into the world.” Mostly, she writes about her own practice of taking communion: “I am a character in this book.”

    She transitions smoothly from the historical to the personal, for example, when she shifts from the early church’s meals to the dinner-cum-communion on Maundy Thursday at her church, Trinity-Santa Barbara. She briefly retells stories of the soup kitchen at Trinity from Things Seen and Unseen and of her brother Kip (RIP) from Practicing Resurrection but without pulling focus from communion.

    As anyone who has read her other memoirs knows, Gallagher writes with humility and with humor -- sometimes it’s light; occasionally (and deliciously), it’s sarcastic. She quotes from chewable sources, such as Paul Bradshaw and Miriam MacGillis, and she writes words worth quoting: “Faith is a catch-and-release sport.” “No hell is powerful enough to keep out resurrection life.” “We are all the ongoing incarnation.” “At the altar, we are invited into what Jesus called Heaven.”

    The publishers graphically framed many of Gallagher’s aphorisms, such as the last two above, inside narrow lines for review. Although these thoughts are ticklish, it’s better to read them first in context because it’s within the rhythm of this finely wrought book that the words mean the most. The Sacred Meal is thoughtful and thought-provoking, a resource and a reminder.