Stepping Out

A couple of weeks ago a friend sent me a link to a blog writing competition.  And while it was intimidating to try to come up with something to submit, the wonderful, wonderfully impersonal world of the Internet also provided me with enough anonymity to go for it.  I modified a section from a previous blog post to submit.  Alas, I wasn't chosen, but it was a great exercise for several reasons (in some ways like a free writing class - woo hoo).

1.  There was a topic that was really long but titled something about coming together at the Lord's table and the church and accepting other people.  But having a specific topic is good.  Of course, queen of the literal over here went more along the "I Love Communion" (because I soooo do) and less about how that plays out in the church environment.

2.  There were parameters - a due date and a word range so that was good practice for editing and for actually finishing writing something.  I'm awesome at creating to do lists but sporadic about actually crossing things off of them.

3.  There was rejection which served as a form of evaluation.  I got a very nice email thanking me for my submission but there's not enough room.  I realized I'd turn a corner (just a little baby one, maybe not a whole corner but like a really obtuse angle kind of a corner) in this whole writing endeavor when I realized that I was kind of bummed about the lack of feedback.  I, super-sensitive-hates-criticism-in-any-form girl, actually wanted someone to tear my work about just a little and provide some feedback.  Go figure.  Instead I've taken to self-evaluation (tearing it apart all by myself) which is probably also good in some way.

So, without further ado (and honestly some nervousness since I'm putting something out there that was totally rejected by a person who does this blogging bit seriously but also some pride that I actually attempted this) is my entry into the competition I forgot the name of.

The Body of Christ:  Let’s Feast Together

I’ve been involved in just about every Christian denomination at some point in my life.  I grew up in the Catholic church.  In high school, it was a Methodist youth group with friends.  At my Presbyterian (USA) college, where I finally grasped hold of who Jesus is in my life, I was Baptist. Then there was that stint with the Christian cult while I was studying abroad - oops.  I was on the mission field with several Pentecostals.  I attended a Reformed seminary and now I work for a Presbyterian (PCA) organization.  So in terms of Communion, the Eucharist, the Lord’s Supper (I don’t even know which term goes with which denomination anymore), I’ve just about seen it all.  I’m pretty sure I’ve seen Communion done just about every way it can be.  Single file down the aisle, pass the tray down your row, receive it as a family group (always fun for the single gal), intinction, wafers, real wine, grape juice, gluten free, every day, every Sunday, once a quarter, only from a priest, just a bunch of 20 somethings offering bread to each other on Christmas Eve in Asia, twice a year when someone ordained comes to visit you on the mission field, it’s the actual body and blood (so don’t drop it!), it’s only a symbol, it’s something kind of extra special somewhere in between the two. 

The bottom line in all of this is that I LOVE communion.  I mean big time.  Like "pull yourself out of bed and go to church 20 minutes late so as not to miss communion" big time.  This may mean I have some faulty theology regarding the role/effects of communion OR it may just mean that I understand it really, really well (for obvious reasons I prefer the latter). I LOVE that my church serves communion every week. Because EVERY WEEK I need that physical, tangible reminder of God's grace, of His love, of my utter lostness and utter redemption. And, guess what, it’s not only me that needs this.  All these folks standing around me in their skinny jeans and Toms are desperate for the same thing I am.  More of him. Every. Single. Stinking. Week.  

And even though I walk up that aisle on my own and even though Communion is an intensely personal part of my experience with the LORD each week where I confront my sin and begin again each week to grasp a little more of the reality that He loves me anyway, I love that in cathedrals, churches, converted school cafeterias, homes, and even prisons around the world my brothers and sisters in the faith are experiencing the same thing.  It’s one of the most beautiful expressions of corporate, communal worship we engage in as the body of Christ.  Feasting together at the table of our Father. 

Furthermore, all the Saints through all time (by “all time”, I obviously mean the 2000 years since Christ came) have feasted together at this meal.  I just love the picture of that.  Not only are all the folks at my church feasting together, or all the other PCA churches, or all the evangelical churches, or all Protestant, or Christ-acknowledging, or flat-out Christian people around the world, but all the people, all the thousands and millions of saints that we will feast with in eternity are united together with us in this meal.  And, it gets even better! Christ is with us in this meal.  Christ makes the meal possible.  The Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit not only deign to join us in this meal, not only do they warmly invite us to partake, but their love, humility and great sacrifice PROVIDE the meal.

Come let us meet our Savior.  Come, let us feast together.