![]() 2.) "We"-who? A sect-a party? No all Christians, be they called by whatsoever name. We are one with Him in the glory, for He has risen from the grave and we are risen together with Him, and made to sit together in Him in the heavenly places. We are one with Him, and, in the power of the new, the everlasting life which He has given us, we remember Him, as He requested. This is where life in Jesus begins and ends.Both the bread and the cup pass round from hand to hand for the mutual participation of the assembled believers. Oh may we never miss another moment to come together and do this. We were refreshed, renewed, and reminded of His faithfulness and love. Jesus was lifted high in remembrance through our laughter, tears, and stories of Old and New. Broken and poured out for his broken and wrung out girls.Īs the lights glistened, the bread was eaten and the glasses emptied. The realness and joy of living with Jesus was tangible. In lingering and remembering, the peace of His sweet presence fell. How much He loves us and how he loves our brokenness and bitter moments. Leaning back, maybe even reclined as Jesus, we remembered Him. We sat around the lowered coffee table with communion before us and remembered. THIS is what He offers, if we will stop and remember. Maybe we’d slow down, breathe, and love each other longer and deeper. Maybe we could remember what life is all about, what being a Jesus-lover is truly about. ![]() But in the end He would prevail - broken and poured out for us for our broken, bitter, and wrung out souls.Īnd maybe, just maybe, if we lingered longer here there would be less drama and hurt. The wine - the bitter red wine - the bitterness reminds how the road before Jesus was bitter and hard. Trusting one another with our battered messes.Īnd yes, it’s good to come to the table broken. And time around the table leads to vulnerability and trust. Bread being broken and remembering how his broken heals our broken. Stories being told recounting Jesus faithfulness. And we miss the point and importance of the lingering and retelling of modern day Jesus stories, as well as stories of old.Īuthentic life happens around a table. We want to remember quickly because we have things to do and places to be. We rush to and from the table because we are drunk on busyness. And yeah, maybe we don’t rush to the Lord’s table to get drunk on wine - but we do rush. Oh we say that’s not us - that’s just those Corinthians. Warned us not to rush to the meal eager to eat and get drunk ignoring those who received none. Is that the kind of “remembrance” you want to be part of? Examine your motives, test your heart, come to this meal in holy awe.” (1 Corinthians 11:27-28 MSG) “Anyone who eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Master irreverently is like part of the crowd that jeered and spit on him at his death. I don’t think a quick reflection of Jesus body hanging on the cross is what Jesus meant. I don’t think this should only happen monthly, weekly, or even quarterly. I don’t think THIS is the quick passing of the individually wrapped communion and stale bread chip. Oh Lord, forgive us for not sitting down to remember.ĭo this. It’s there where Jesus becomes real in the everyday ordinary. They are important as it’s there where Jesus stories can be told generation after generation. Tables no longer hold lingering conversations, but rather collect the fodder from busy lives.īut these meals we skip. Many no longer take time to sit and recount over and over what Jesus has done. Oh how we have rushed these precious moments. Is this not what Jesus meant when he said, do THIS in remembrance of me? Sit, share, and remember. To commune as Jesus did - over a table, relaxed with friends. Scriptures kept nudging me in as often as you gather, do this in remembrance of me. This seemed a yearning out of nowhere so I balked at inviting others to gather.īut this evening, would the girls want to stop and remember. But a communion that lingered - a Supper. For months I longed for deep communion, not the quick and hurried version. ![]() My heart felt this would be a moment - a holy moment - a love feast. Nestled between all the elements were glasses of crystal, beautiful red grapes, and decanters of juice. I wanted to grab in the palm of my hands this moment and coddle it as if time would stand still if I could hold tight enough.Īs evening settled, the table was set and I waited for the girls to arrive. Do you ever have minutes like that? They are too special and beautiful to let them fly by so quickly. Oh how I wish I could have froze the moment in time. ![]()
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