Bread & Wine

The Lord’s Supper. Communion. The Eucharist. You may call if what you will.  It remains an obvious instrumental means of grace. We are baffled by this incarnational reality, never quite comprehending how the life of God can be contained in bread and wine. How two such seemingly menial items can carry such glorious significance. This act of worship entails a multitude of emotion and self examination. Repentance, petition, forgiveness, contemplation, thanksgiving, celebration, and more.  Transformation of heart comes from this. The Eucharist draws us together. Brings us collectively as the body of Christ to share in the ongoing story of God’s redemptive work.

 

Jesus’ broken body. His bloodpoured out. This is how we live. Nourished by these elements to walk upon this earth. This is how we are strengthened. Filled with Christ who empowers us. We all come to the table praying as though a child. Simply asking to receive.  Head down and hands out, we bare our emptiness so that we may be filled again. We have nothing to give. All we can do is receive. The sacraments a gift. Elements to remind us of his death. A death that was meant for us. Blood that was shed for us. Bones that were crushed for us. 

Over the years I have participated in a variety of “styles” of communion. Tiny cups and wafers passed through pews as the congregation waits patiently to jointly toast and down a shot glass size image of His grace. I’ve been declined to step forward in the Catholic church, watching from my seat as the cup is brought to the lips of each member, followed by a series of crosses. I’ve stepped forward to receive the elements quietly, with no words spoken by the givers of this symbolic forgiveness. But for me, the moments in which this sacrament has truly come alive have been when the method of intinction was the avenue by which we dined. Being handed a piece of bread while the words “The body of Christ, broken for you” are breathed over me. Offered the cup to dip my bread while being softly whispered, “The blood of Christ, shed for you, Lauren.” To be reminded that these actions were done for me. That I am the recipient of His unending love, mercy, and grace…

 

As I’ve told y’all, the husband and I are maintaining a mostly Paleo lifestyle so we have eaten only a tiny amount of bread since starting this journey over the past few months. I also am unfortunately afflicted with what seems to be an allergy to sulfites, rendering me unable to drink red wine less I keel over and spend the next few days vomiting.  And grape juice is simply something I never consume. Now the Eucharist has been something so powerfully meaningful to me over the years, but recently has taken on a new level of sacred importance. The fullness of the bread paired with the sweetness of the wine is a taste I  hardly ever experience apart from one another, let alone combined in one single mouthful. These past few Sundays during our Lenten journey have been the most powerful reminders of what it looks like to come to his table, empty, open, and craving the taste of His love. Longing to be filled with His grace. Not to mention, Nathan sure knows how to speak with wisdom, conviction, and honesty. I encourage you to listen to the sermon series. We had the opportunity to serve communion together recently, serving one another before serving our brothers and sisters in the church and when the elements have taken on such a new and powerful place in my spiritual journey, it was an incredible blessing to be able to share that, physically, with those around us. 

 

 

An amazing simplicity that is free of manipulating, the table represents His victory over death and our invitation to true life. How much more does this resonate when the flavors of these symbols have been reserved to such an occasion?

 

Linking up today with sweet Marquis @ Simply Clarke for Faithful Friday.