Signposts On The Way

I am an introvert by nature, so sometimes all this talk about communion makes me feel a bit ashamed that I do not more readily seek to be part of crowds, that thirty minutes of silence is truly golden for me, that a little socializing goes a long way, and it is enough that I can count on one hand the number of people I consider close friends. The concept of communion seems handpicked for extroverts. I sometimes have the sneaking suspicion that they are going to be happier in heaven than I will be. The image of an eternal heavenly banquet does not ignite my passions. In fact, it sounds more like hell to me.

So how do I draw the circle of communion larger so that it extends to this big introvert as well, along with all my like-hearted brothers and sisters? I think it must have to do with something both introverts and extroverts love when it happens—that intangible sense of connection we occasionally experience with another person. There are few things in this world more satisfying than an encounter with another that somehow transcends the boundaries of persons and culture and background and even sometimes language. One might think that extroverts are more likely to experience this since they seem more willing to risk putting themselves out there. Yet, many have shared with me how envious they are of the ease with which it seems introverts connect at a deep level. Just because extroverts can make many surface connections, it does not mean that those connections nourish them in the unique way that a deep connection with another can, like a long, gentle rain in a drought-ravaged landscape.

Maybe this is what we mean when we talk about communion. Not that we must seek that with every member of the Body of Christ, but that each rare and beautiful and life-restoring time we do encounter it, somehow we are tapping in to the power that holds the Body of Christ together, and we can recognize how very vital it is for the good of one’s soul.