Over the past few weeks, while attending Solid Rock, I have
really become overwhelmed by the act of taking Communion. For those of you who
do not follow Jesus, this is probably an awkward topic that overwhelms you as
well, but that is exactly where I am headed with this. Over and over now, I
have stood in the dark lighting of a worship set staring down at the deep purple of grape juice-
while in my mind, my chin is extended upwards, and I can almost see the
dripping feet of Jesus the king. He is above me, mounted to a cross, dripping,
dying, against the background of a massive sky, and saying nothing while saying
all that will ever need to be said for all of time. I stand with that vision,
and I can't help but want to eject it from my mind and put down the bread and
the cup- who am I? Considering all that you are Christ, and knowing all that I
am, how could you have done this for me?
Today, I thought of something new- Christ died for all of us- not just those of us who take
communion in remembrance of Him. Christ died for all of us, and some don't even
know who He is. Some don't even know that the bullet was headed for them, but
that Jesus, who is more worthy to life than any of us, stepped in the way. Some
don't know Him- but He knows exactly who all of us are, and He died knowing. I want to know Him more.
While there is a part of me that cannot bear the image of
Jesus on the cross, there is also a part of me that wants to bow and lower
myself in that place and just stay there. My body, despite the efforts of my
mind at times, knows its creator, knows the Father, and cannot escape His
presence. But my mind agitates itself, and I become like Peter whose lips
promise allegiance to God, but reject Him in the face of men. Peter, who stood
at the foot of the cross, and saw these images that dance in my mind with His
own eyes. Peter, who denied Him. Denied Jesus.
"Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down
his life for his friends." John 15:13
I'm not going around saying I don't know Jesus, but then
again, no one is asking. At least not anyone who would be displeased with the
answer. I honestly believe that they would rather not know- but the more
difficult thing to wrestle with is that I would rather not be asked. What would
they think if they knew that I attend church every Sunday and eat a cracker and
drink some grape juice, calling it the body and the blood of Jesus, in order to
remember Him? Surely they would question my sanity in response to the rituality
of it, but Christ is the author of metaphors, and as I take communion I am
encouraged that He lives in me, He nourishes my body, and He sustains me.
Some would gasp at the arrogance of it all, claiming that
they didn't need Christ to step in, and that we have invented a savior in
response to a fear-driven belief in the after-life, but they haven't heard His
voice. For eighteen years, I watched from the outside as Christians ate His
body, drank His blood, and obsessed over His brutal death, and I was appalled
by the nonsense. But once I heard his voice, and once He began to show me His
nature, it became so easy to see through the oddness of it all and into the
beauty.
I look around at all of creation and I see God's beauty
etched into every last detail, even in the pain I can find the traces of His
mercy and His redemption. I can imagine Eve biting into the apple, falling
asleep and dreaming all of this, until she awakes in God's presence again
wondering how much could have happened in such a little amount of time. This
will be over soon, He tells her. I'll be with you, and I will bring all things
together. You will awake in my presence, and all of the fall will feel like a
brush stroke compared to the eternity that I will draw you into. These
reassurances He gives me persist throughout all of my days, since the day I
finally decided to follow His voice, and yet I am often at a crossroads
wondering what others would think if they could see the scenes of my worshiping
mind.
I used to wonder, with upmost sincerity, how it was possible
for Peter to deny Jesus if he truly loved Him as he claimed- now I wonder at my
own battle, and press on for the day when I may stand before the masses
unafraid.
"They were
greatly disturbed because the apostles were teaching the people and proclaiming
in Jesus the resurrection of the dead. They seized Peter and John, and because
it was evening, they put them in jail until the next day. But many who heard
the message believed, and the number of men grew to about five thousand."
Acts 3:2-4
