I recently started frequenting a new church, initially for the music opportunities but then also for the fellowship of believers. I am aware of the presence of God, and His light and His love, whenever I walk through the doors of that church. I believe God led me there and I am grateful for His leading because that church family has ministered to my needs so beautifully.
But as I explored the traditions of the new church, I had many questions and started seeking answers. The tradition of interest on my mind, recently, was that of communion. I grew up in a church that celebrated communion once per quarter (four times per year). Even as a young child I noticed the reduced number of attendees during the communion Sabbaths and was confused by it. I would hear people walk into the church and see the communion table set up at the front and say, "Oh shoot, I didn't realize it was communion this Sabbath." And they would leave.
After I started participating in the service, as a teenager, I found the entire service to be quite meaningful. We always began in the church as a group, then divided up into separate rooms for the foot washing service. There was a room for women, a room for men and a room for families. The service was always solemn and beautiful and periodically someone would begin to sing a soulful hymn and other women would join in. Our voices were raised as one to our Savior, the One who set the example of servitude with His love.
Then we would all join together again in the sanctuary for the unleavened bread and the grape juice. But by then it was quite evident that many of the church members had already dissipated, probably prior to the foot washing. The remaining church family would sit and listen to the Scripture about the Last Supper being read and we would accept the bread and the grape juice as symbols of His sacrifice. I used to look around at others when the bread and juice were being handed out and would notice how some of them would hold it in their hands, bow their heads and sit in silence. I assumed they were praying to God to renew their commitment to Him or whatever. That seemed beautifully appropriate and so I decided I would do that as well. Then we'd sing another hymn and then go home.
I always treasured the service. But after I got married, my attitude towards communion seemed to shift. I found that I became the person that avoided communion Sabbaths. Sometimes I would kind of get stuck in it because I might be involved in the program for the day and couldn't get out of it. But I didn't enjoy it and felt like something was wrong. I actually attended very few services during those 16 years. I felt sinful because the holy significance of the service was suddenly lost to me. I honestly felt that I was sinning against God if my heart wasn't in tune with the meaning of the experience.
When we moved to another church, I learned that they only did communion once a year and I was suddenly so relieved. But it wasn't long after that, that I opened the door to God's knocking on my heart and I started searching for Him with all of my heart. My life and my perspective changed significantly as He continued to reveal Himself to me more and more. When it was time for the communion on New Year's Eve, we were unable to attend for whatever reason and I felt myself grieving the loss. I so badly wanted to present myself before God, seek His forgiveness, recommit myself to Him and thank Him for His eternal sacrifice that made it possible for me to even stand in His presence. I missed next year's service too and I felt such a loss. I longed to experience that sacred moment again and just couldn't seem to get to. Until now, it had been years since I had the chance to participate in a communion service.
Given my history, you would think that I would be glad about the opportunity to experience communion every week, like this new church offers. But I wasn't sure. So for almost two months, I've declined their invitation to participate in their communion blessing.
But this last Thursday I had an opportunity to discuss the concept of communion with a friend during a very educational conversation. I learned so much about it, how other churches view it, how they've celebrated it, and what it means to different groups of people. I walked away with the conviction that how often a church presents communion is not nearly as relevant as how we interpret its meaning; it's really all about what is in our hearts that determines what kind of blessing we receive from it. All good information, but I still hadn't made up my mind about whether I was ready to participate with this particular church because I still had some research I wanted to pursue.
I know it may seem silly to some people that I over-thought this common tradition. But there was something heavy in my heart that told me this was not a simple matter and that it should be undertaken with thoughtfulness and prayer.
So the night before church, I was heading off to bed and I felt God inviting me to finish my research. I looked at the time and was like, "Ugh, really? It's so late and I wake up so stinking early. There's no rush, is there? I have time to do this research later." But the prompting was pretty firm, so I laid in bed researching communion on my iPhone for quite some time.
What Paul said about communion really seemed to hit home:
Therefore whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner, shall be guilty of the body and the blood of the Lord. But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For he who eats and drinks, eats and drinks judgment to himself, if he does not judge the body rightly. 1 Corinthians 11:27-29
I realized it honored God that I desired to study this topic and ask for His guidance on the matter. I found several articles online outlining the Biblical rationale for how often to take communion.
I concluded that there was no firm indication in the Bible that dictated how often we should have communion and that so much of the blessing was entirely dependent on our heart's response to God's sacrifice.
Does this current church celebrate communion as I would truly desire? Not totally. I long for more fellowship, more communion and even a meal together. But in the meantime, the reminder of His sacrifice is available to me every week if I desire it. If I do not feel my heart is in line with God's, I can choose to refrain. And I will. Not because I don't consider myself worthy but because I can't experience a sincere moment with God if I'm pushing Him away. I don't want to see this as a tradition or a routine; I want it to remain as meaningful as Christ intended. So I finished my research, content with my conclusion and put away my phone. I decided that it would be beautiful that I should accept every opportunity to partake of this Lord's Supper reminder.
The next morning, I was doing the singing while the church was taking their communion. In my heart, I wished I could enjoy it as well. I felt so ready to do that. But I couldn't since I was standing up front, singing. Plus I was sure that the pastor had observed that I had never taken it before so he probably wouldn't offer it to me.
But Jesus has such a marvelous way of working things out for our benefit. I smile wide, even now, as I recall the moment. After the pastor and the two women finished serving the church family, they came and patiently stood right in front of me and the organist, for the duration of the entire last verse. Just standing there, smiling at us, waiting to serve us. My heart was brimming with love for the leadership of the church that submits itself to God's will and I couldn't keep from smiling. And I was so grateful for the conversation the organist and I had had just a few days prior. The organist led the way and I tried to follow his lead since I'd never done this before. I know I messed it up because I wasn't paying careful attention to what he did first; I wasn't sure what to do with the little glass of wine; do I just dip or drink or what?
Regardless of my inexperience, I can't keep my heart from swelling with love for God for this little thing that He did for me. If He hadn't prompted me to study this topic....if He hadn't prompted my friend to discuss it with me...if He hadn't placed this on my heart at all, I would have been so terribly uncomfortable when the pastor invited me to take communion, in front of everyone that was present.
I don't know if my words convey the joy I have in my heart in regards to this entire experience. I just see His hand at work and His light shining on my path. And I am filled with love for His tenderness and care of even things that others might find inconsequential.
And now my mind is drawn to the original Lord's Supper as Christ broke the bread for His own disciples and my heart longs to experience that meal with Him too. I wish I had been there that night. But perhaps - knowing what I know about the subsequent events - perhaps my heart wouldn't be able to handle the heartbreaking experience.
I can imagine Jesus' flawless hands, offering me bread just hours before they would be nailed to a cross in the most inhumane and torturous method of punishment reserved for the world's worst sinners. Sinners like you and me.
I can imagine Him offering the wine, while the blood began to trickle out of His heart as He looked around at the ones He loved. With a breaking heart, He anticipated the pain they would experience when they ran away in fear and He longed to hold them and comfort them.
I can imagine that, knowing what I know now, the desire of my heart would be to beg Him to let me take His place. How could I allow my spotless Friend to take on my sins and suffer the judgment I had brought down upon myself? Knowing what I know now, they would have had to chain me up to keep me from covering Him with my own body as they brought the whip down on His back; the back that bent over the sick, bent down to lift up the fallen, and bent down to our level for our own sake.
Knowing what I know now, how could I not beg God to change the plan and let everyone pay for their own sins? I wouldn't be able to stand there and watch Him take on my death sentence.
And yet, I do, don't I? Every time I choose to sin against my God with the knowledge that He can forgive me if I just ask, I am the one striking Him with the whip. It doesn't make sense. Why choose sin? Why choose to distance myself from Him, because that's the definition of sin, isn't it? Why invite one more thorn into His crown on my account? That would not be love.
And so I look forward to renewing my devotion to Him and remembering His sacrifice every time I eat and drink and thank Him for His relentless love. Some churches refer to the communion as the Eucharist. That word actually comes from the Greek word eukharistia or eukharistos which means "thanksgiving" and "gratefulness." If I cannot be grateful in this moment of remembrance, then I'm disrespecting Him and enjoying communion once a year or once a week is not going to make a difference.
This entire experience has been so eye-opening and heart-growing. I can't praise Him enough for His love and for His thoughtfulness. And I can't hardly wait until I can experience the supper with Him in the new earth. In the meantime, though, He left us this beautiful reminder of the unity He shared with His disciples that night. And His heart's desire, the prayer of His anguished soul (in John 17), was that we would experience that oneness with each other as well, until we can experience it with Him in Heaven.
So in addition to a heart filled with thanks for His sacrifice I can pray for unity in the body of His believers. And I pray for the oneness that would do Him honor and partially satisfy His longing to be with us too.
I don't usually link songs to my posts but I couldn't help myself. Both of these songs draw my heart into worship for my Savior and encourages a longing to remain faithful and sincere.
How Beautiful
Make Us One
From now on, whenever I take communion, Make Us One will the prayer of my heart. And I hope it will be yours as well.
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