We took communion at church yesterday morning. It’s not something our church does every Sunday, but it’s something we do on a pretty regular basis. I have always understood, since coming to Christ, what communion is and why we do it. The bread represents the body of Christ and the blood represents His redeeming blood that was shed to cover our sins. Jesus told the disciples at the last supper to “Do this in remembrance of me” so we “do this” (which we now call “taking communion”) to remember Jesus and the sacrifice He made. Seems pretty straight-forward. I got it.
But I didn’t have it. Until…
A while back, the Lord revealed to me the significance of taking communion in such a way that I can never again participate in this biblical reenactment in the same disconnected, lackadaisical way as I did before. As we were preparing to partake in the Lord’s supper yesterday, I went in deep with the Lord and I allowed Him to take me to “that place” with Him once again.
The way the Lord has designed me is with a mind that thinks in pictures…vivid, colorful, extravagantly-detailed pictures. I also have in me a strong sense of empathy…to the point where, in certain situations, I can personally feel someone else’s feelings—or, at least, I can sense how I would feel if I were them. It’s these things that make me care so deeply and cry so easily. Most of the time, I consider these qualities in me to be wonderful and special. But, sometimes, they almost overwhelm me. When taking communion, these things in me are almost more than I can bear.
As we took the “bread” to represent Jesus’ body (we actually used oyster crackers, but the sentiment is the same), I remembered how Jesus showed us to do it…in three specific steps: He took it, broke it, and ate of it. As I emulated these exact steps in my taking of the holy sacrament, something inside of me just went crazy during the breaking process.
Because the “bread” represents the body of Christ, my mind suddenly flashed to a picture of Jesus’ body—once beautiful and perfect—and how it was abused and broken into a heap of torn flesh, flowing with thick scarlet rivers of blood. I can “see” Him, with each violent attack, wincing, maybe even falling, then struggling to pull Himself back up to His feet…fighting the temptation to give in to the pressure that any regular man would have yielded to. Yes, “He COULD have called 10,000 angels to destroy the world and set Him free”…but He didn’t.
Every crunch of the sacrament between my teeth echoed in my head and caused me to imagine how my sweet savior’s strong, precious body was crushed by the unrelenting beatings He endured prior to the crucifixion. Every bite felt like I was personally assaulting Him…as if every one of the sins I have ever committed in my life were individually grabbing whips and cat-of-nine-tails, and they were mocking my Jesus as they pummeled His body and rattled His bones.
A lump grew in my throat and my eyes stung with tears, overwhelmed by the thought of all that He bore…and that He bore it all for me. I could hardly swallow.
Then, came the grape juice—a representation of Jesus’ redeeming blood. It flooded my mouth with a taste so sweet. It washed away the pieces of dry cracker that hung in my throat. I felt it going into my body and filling me up on the inside, just as my Lord washes over me and fills me with His satisfying Spirit. Because of His blood, no more do I have to taste the bitterness of the broken girl who once inhabited my body. He has washed her away and created a new creature—one who is beautiful to Him…one who is worth dying for. His blood knows no bounds. It doesn’t matter who you are or what you’ve done, His blood covers ALL sins that are remitted to Him. Jesus’ blood contains His DNA…it is full of power and potential, and it is readily available to all who are willing to partake of it.
As I took of the body and the blood in remembrance of my Lord, I felt as if I were one of his 12. Even though the entire church was taking communion, He and I were personally communing with one another. It felt like we were sharing a special moment…just the two of us. The very word “communion” has a root word of commune – which is to “communicate, feel at one with, empathize, and connect.” Isn’t that wonderful?! How charming and personal is my God?!
Communion is not a ritual to be performed for the sake of religiosity; it is an honor…a chance to connect with the Lord in a personal, purposeful way, and to recognize Him for all He has done. I pray you (and I) never take communion again without proper reverence for the magnitude of this act and a truer understanding of what this moment with the Lord is truly about.
220 Gal 