This word is probably the least known or most-confused of all our inherited liturgical terminology.

Unlike words such as chalice, that are familiar fixtures of our language and have some connection - however tenous - to objects used in our daily lives, the term ciborium has not even a remote connection, linguistically or symbolically, to anything that graces our dinner tables.

And that is because, as its etymology suggests, the ciborium can't decide whether it's a plate or a cup.

The fact is the origin of the term "ciborium" is uncertain.

Some scholars suggest it hales from the Greek , meaning cup.

Others maintain that the word "ciborium" derives from the Latin "cibus," referring to food, particularly that which is served on a plate at meal times.

Whatever its etymology, the ciboria (pl.) are those sacred vessels which contain the consecrated bread that is distributed during the celebration of the Eucharist.

Ciboria are always cup-shaped silver vessels - lined with gold or gold-plating - and are distinguished from their look-alike, the chalice, by their silver lids, always surmounted by a cross or other Christian symbol.

Those who read the offering on the paten will remember that, in the early church, the consecrated species - the technical term for the bread we bless in the Eucharist - was a single loaf of unleavened bread, rather than the individual wafers we use today.

The remembrance begs the question:   when did the ciborium supplant the paten as the normative vessel for distributing the Eucharistic bread?

The answer - as with most liturgical innovation in the church - is more practical than it is theological.

In the twelfth century the practice of receiving regular communion began to wane.

Since sizeable loaves were no longer required, the priest, and those few who did receive communion needed only a small amount of bread.

From this need, or lack therof, the use of individual wafers arose and the left-over wafers were placed in a chalice and set apart so that the sick and shut-in could have the sacrament brought to them.

Since you can't have bread lying around uncovered for days at a time, the chalice was fastened with a lid, and the ciborium was born.

It should be noted that the ciborium is falling into disuse in many parishes due to the renewed practice of celebrating the Eucharist with real bread, in the form of a single loaf which is then broken and shared by the whole community.

Not only does this return to the ancient church suggest that we are attempting to "practice what we preach" when we speak of "One Bread, One Body," but when cluttered with sundry silver vessels, the altar can begin to look more like a William Ashley display-window than God's window of opportunity through which we are invited to partake of our salvation.   (Taste and see that the Lord is good . . . indeed!)