Communion as a contact sport?

I could write about the deeply dangerous aspects of worship a la Annie Dillard.

I could make reference to the relationship with God and the act of communion being part of a process which could utterly and profoundly transform a person.

Instead, I could just do a sort of mathematical equation - with the caveat 'don't try this at home, kidz':
highly polished chairs in the sanctuary space +
shiny black academic gown +
Maundy Thursday solemnity +
the quietness as elements are being distributed to the congregation by the elders +
me reaching down by my chair to get my notes =

new liturgical dance manoeuvre:
'falling from grace do-wop'.
This of course, is best accompanied by the colour red adorning one's face... so much so, the heat from it could cook toast.
Nice.
Oddly, I don't see it catching on.
I then did have to get up and do intercessions... I survived, the congregation survived, the supervisor was gracious. 

Having slid indecorously - and so quickly too! - from chair to floor, I er, landed on my thumb, which I've actually managed to sprain in the process!!!! 
Ah yes, communion as a contact sport... discuss!
On the other hand, if this is the worst thing that is going to happen to me on placement, it's all fine by me!!  :)
Ouch...

And this crumb of comfort from Nelson Mandela: 
The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.