We took communion this morning at church. The bread and cup of Life. A centuries old tradition of the church, and one that my current church takes part in at least quarterly.
Every time I take communion, especially when you hold the little cup (as opposed to intinction), I remember my grandmother. It was she who taught me how to hold the bread, and how to hold the cup. The cup, especially, is held in such a way that it is nearly impossible to spill it, and if you did, your other hand would catch it. I've always held my cup this way. She also taught me that once you hold the bread and then the cup, you are to think about what it means in your life at that moment - reflect on the life that was given, and all the things that have occurred for which you are forgiven, and the grace represented in the cup.
There was a time in my life where I wouldn't take the bread and cup when it was passed to me. A time when I didn't feel worthy of it, and couldn't accept that grace was bigger than anything that had happened in my life up to that point. That I was already forgiven for those things. It was too much for me to comprehend, and it is that memory that moves me every time I've taken communion since. Communion isn't just another thing I do, but it is heavy on my heart because I remember how much it hurt to look at the (symbolic) blood shed for me and this life I'm living. It is deeply moving to me to take communion.
Today, it is freeing. I learned how much that grace means and how deeply it is felt. It is what allows me to live my life each and every day. Without grace, I am nothing at all. My life without it was quickly ending; with grace, I can keep on waking, keep on walking, keep on working. Working to help others feel the enormity of grace.
There truly is Life in communion, and I hope it never loses its meaning in my life.
Stay tuned for the revealing of my word for 2014.
Happy New Year, everyone. Make it the best year yet, and may you feel the life that comes with grace each and every day.
Every time I take communion, especially when you hold the little cup (as opposed to intinction), I remember my grandmother. It was she who taught me how to hold the bread, and how to hold the cup. The cup, especially, is held in such a way that it is nearly impossible to spill it, and if you did, your other hand would catch it. I've always held my cup this way. She also taught me that once you hold the bread and then the cup, you are to think about what it means in your life at that moment - reflect on the life that was given, and all the things that have occurred for which you are forgiven, and the grace represented in the cup.
There was a time in my life where I wouldn't take the bread and cup when it was passed to me. A time when I didn't feel worthy of it, and couldn't accept that grace was bigger than anything that had happened in my life up to that point. That I was already forgiven for those things. It was too much for me to comprehend, and it is that memory that moves me every time I've taken communion since. Communion isn't just another thing I do, but it is heavy on my heart because I remember how much it hurt to look at the (symbolic) blood shed for me and this life I'm living. It is deeply moving to me to take communion.
Today, it is freeing. I learned how much that grace means and how deeply it is felt. It is what allows me to live my life each and every day. Without grace, I am nothing at all. My life without it was quickly ending; with grace, I can keep on waking, keep on walking, keep on working. Working to help others feel the enormity of grace.
There truly is Life in communion, and I hope it never loses its meaning in my life.
Stay tuned for the revealing of my word for 2014.
Happy New Year, everyone. Make it the best year yet, and may you feel the life that comes with grace each and every day.
