In the shadows of a church lit principally by candles at dusk, hundreds of people line up to come forward for a tiny bit of bread and a sip of wine. In the background soft sounds of violin and flute create a warm, meditative setting.

As they ease forward, it is clear that these people are of diverse ages and backgrounds. Some seem quite accustomed to the liturgy that is unfolding but others look nervously about to be certain what they must do. Some take the bread and cup eagerly, others with shy hesitation. Some avert their gaze, others stare intently ahead. What they have in common is unclear. But for a moment they are united for this symbolic meal.

Several clusters of white-robed men and women distribute the bread and wine. Two are clergy and they have performed traditional roles in leading the liturgy. Lay persons -- some robed, some not -- also take prominent roles. They lead prayers, prepare the bread and wine, and give the evening meditation. Amid historic images and practices something different is happening. A historic form of Christian worship is conducted in ways that invite broad participation. In some ways it is formal and unchanged from prior eras. In other ways it expresses a revived ideal of being the church and of living the Christian life.

WHAT IS happening in the gothic setting of one church in Richmond echoes a trend that has pervaded the entire Episcopal Church. Over the past generation there has been an unprecedented recovery of emphasis on the Eucharist. Called by such names as the Lord's Supper, the Holy Communion, and the Mass among Christians, this is the best known form of worship. For Episcopalians, it was once conducted entirely by clergy, at altars removed from those in attendance. In some ways, especially with the use of historic vestments, the Eucharist retains formality. But today Episcopalians understand and perform the Eucharist in ways that reclaim the past to speak to the present.

Amid the stately formality that once defined Episcopal worship there was a sense that God was distant and best approached by clergy intermediaries and elaborate church structures. The church was a hierarchical institution defined by authority and procedure, and it worked well in this role for what was a different era. But in the second half of the 20th century it became increasingly clear that this style overlooked much of early Christian experience and bypassed new spiritual energies.

A generation of study and discussion led to revision of the church's Book of Common Prayer in 1979 with a decisive turn in the nature of worship. For a time there was dissension but eventually the new ideal gained general acceptance. Notably, around the Anglican world similar discussions and revisions happened at the same time. Broad emphasis on recovery of ancient forms of worship became the basis for revitalizing church life. The core of this recovery was new-found focus on the Eucharist.

THIS SHIFT was more than an adoption of ancient vestments, prayers, and music. The basic shift involved how worship is understood: Following new insights into early Christian life, worship became an emphasis on seeking nearness to God, on being in God's midst, not glimpsing God from afar. Like early Christianity, an emphasis on worship as the basis of local Christian community also advanced. Not individuals seeking an austere God, those at worship become a community of people seeking God's immediacy and guidance in their lives.

Translated literally Eucharist means "thanksgiving." Worship is intended to carry a vivid sense of gratitude into every aspect of life. Thus powerful ideals of community and ministry, as well as shared leadership, arise from this fresh view of worship.

For Episcopalians today the settings of worship and the degree of formality can vary widely: in homes and small group settings, less formally in church with alternative music, or amid familiar gothic splendor. In each instance, the intention is consistent. Following ancient precedent, the Eucharist portrays an ideal of Christian community. By extension it encourages the hope that all communities might be reconciled and centered in thanksgiving on the love of God. Of course this ideal is a lofty one that eludes ready fulfillment. But through this ideal, there is a sense of clarity and possibility that is desperately needed in the churches and the world.
William L. Sachs is the director of the Center for Reconciliation and Mission at St. Stephen's Episcopal Church.