stuffing my face
Coming up to Good Friday always brings me to the table… that last supper when Jesus shared His final meal with His disciples before His death.
I’m struck with the various ways we come to “the table” and share the sacrament of communion as we remember the incredible gift of sacrificial love and grace poured out at the cross for us.
Growing up, communion was once a month and always [ALWAYS] very quiet and formal. Maybe that has been your experience as well.
Another experience I have had with communion was at a women’s retreat…
We shared communion by dipping a piece of bread in grape juice and then serving the woman behind us by giving it to her… somehow I got in the line where the first woman didn’t just put the drenched (and dripping) bread in the next women’s hand – but in her mouth. It was a beautiful ending to the retreat – but when my friend missed my mouth and the soaked (did I mention dripping) bread ended up all over my face… I couldn’t stop laughing. And if you know me – laughing can be very dangerous in these types of circumstances because I can’t stop…
Our church is a bit nontraditional. We share in communion almost weekly on Sunday morning. There are tables around the sanctuary with the elements… and at some point in the service, the congregation is invited to go to the tables and bring back the little cup and piece of bread to their seats. I have come to love coming to the table together in community with the church body.
I’m always reminded of a story, however, that I shared a couple of years ago when I noticed an elderly woman “dance” her way over to the communion table after everyone else had taken the elements… I was completely shocked and surprised by what happened next… read what the Lord taught me about His incredible generosity after being witness to this break in protocol – I mean, no one grabs a handful of communion bread and stuffs it in their pockets, right? [You can read it here.]
A month of so ago, a friend shared with me this beautiful picture of a mutual friend’s little one… stuffing her face with the communion bread.
Oh… to have that child-like faith that just stuffs my face with all the Jesus I can get!
That child-like faith that clearly understands where I end… and my Savior begins.
That He never asks for me to have it all together before I come to the cross or His feet…
Where He simply invites me to come – just as I am, with all that I have and don’t have – and then He is so gracious to let me see how beautiful His gift of LIFE is.
