Communion

Tonight was I think the most meaningful, beautiful, moving celebration of the Lord's Supper I have ever been a part of.
This was the first time that I know of that Victory Rd. has had the Lord's Supper on a Wednesday night. Usually it's during the night service of the Sunday before Easter Sunday. But this seemed to work well. All Wednesday night classes were canceled, and we all met together in the auditorium.
As they arrived, people greeted each other quietly in the foyer and hallways, and the doors to the auditorium had signs taped to them requesting, "Enter reverently with prayer".

Trissy had gone early to do a Bible study with one of the young girls at the church, so she was already there. When I entered the auditorium after quietly greeting Nicole, Lydia, and a few others standing in the foyer, the lights were dim and those already inside sat silent or talking in whispers. I spotted Trissy and Ava sitting where our family usually sits on Sunday nights, talking quietly, and went to join them. It was almost time to start. Ava left to go sit with Austin and his family, and Dad and Mom came in and sat with Trissy and me. All the over-head lights were off - the only light was from the soft ones on the back wall, a couple up front, and a soft spotlight on the cross-and-dove centerpiece high on the wall above the choir chairs. Bro. Blake's mother was playing the organ; soft, gentle, solemn old hymns like "The Ninety and Nine". The whole room felt so beautiful, so, holy.

Bro. Blake stepped up to the podium and led the congregation in two hymns, "Hallelujah, Christ Arose", and "The Blood Will Never Lose It's Power", with only the organ for accompaniment and his rich baritone for direction. As the last chorus came to an end, Bro. Nick walked up to the platform with his Bible in his hands, and Bro. Blake handed him the microphone and went to sit with his family.

Bro. Nick read clearly and simply the account of the Last Supper from Matthew 26:17-29. When he reached verse 29, I noticed something I don't think I ever had before. Jesus says, "But I say unto you, I will not drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom."
Until I drink it new, with you. He's waiting for us. Christ, the son of God, is keeping Himself from enjoying the complete pleasures of His Father's kingdom, until we who are His adopted brothers and sisters are there to enjoy it too. Wow.

When Bro. Nick finished reading, Bro. Dennis sang "When He Was On The Cross, I Was On His Mind". So thankful to hear that voice again. So thankful for hope for the future.

Bro. Earl preached a simple sermon and read the apostle Paul's description from 1 Corinthians 11:23-26. He urged us that were followers of Christ to pray silently (while he prayed aloud), confessing any known sin in our lives, and asking the Lord to reveal others we may not have recognized so that we could repent of them also, enabling us to take the Lord's Supper with an examined heart and a clean conscience.

After he prayed an earnest, humble prayer, he asked Bro. Nick and five of the deacons to come to the front to help him pass out the bread and 'wine' (grape juice). The pewter dishes gleamed in the soft light. Bro. Earl handed a plate filled with the tiny pieces of flat bread to Bro. Nick on his right. Bro. Nick turned and gave it to Bro. Blake who in turn handed it to Julia's dad. Then another one for Bro. Blake. Bro. Earl handed one to Lindy's dad on his left, and the 'bucket brigade'-style plate-passing was repeated on that side. The four deacons with the four plates of bread then moved throughout the congregation, offering a piece to each member. When all had been served, the deacons walked back to the front and served each other, each man giving the plate to the next man up, and that one holding it for him to take a piece, then passing the plate on, ending with Bro. Earl serving Bro. Nick and Lindy's dad before taking a piece himself.
The process was repeated with the trays filled with the tiny glass cups of grape juice.
I was struck with the beauty of the ceremony and order of the process.

It has always been a solemn thing, the Lord's Supper. Something I don't believe I've ever taken lightly since I've been old enough to understand. Certainly not since I received Christ and have been part of one of these services myself.
But this time, I seemed to feel the wonderful, terrible, incredible significance in a way I never remember before. Hearing again the story of the first one, the "Last Supper" - the last Passover Jesus celebrated with His disciples. The overwhelming sadness that must have threatened to consume Him, as the time to leave got closer. The pure aloneness He must have felt, knowing all would desert Him. Knowing He must face this - the most terrible horrors any human on earth had or has ever come to - alone.
Alone.

Julia's dad, as one of the deacons, held out the plate of unleavened bread. I took one of the tiny pieces and held it as Bro. Earl prayed.
Jesus' words, 'This is My body, broken for you...' The disciples must not have understood that night. Did they? They must not have. It surely would have torn them from the inside out, if they'd known...
The crisp crunch of the plain, unleavened bread.

Julia's dad came back, this time with the tray of juice.
As I sat looking into the rich purple color of that tiny glass of grape juice, tears came to my eyes. 'This is My blood, shed for you... My blood... My blood...'
The life of the flesh is in the blood. He literally gave His life - for me. For whoever would choose to accept His gift.
Of course this was only juice here, but the significance was so terribly and wonderfully real to me that from sheer sympathy I didn't think I would be able to drink it. How He suffered! And we have no idea really.
Bro. Earl prayed again, but when he finished, I really hesitated to drink my juice. Then Jesus's command to the disciples spoke in my head, "Drink ye all of it;" and I did.
The sweet, spicy tang of the purple grape juice, then soft chinks all across the room as people slid their tiny empty glasses into the wooden holders on the backs of the pews in front of them.

Reminding us that Jesus and His disciples sang a hymn when they left their Passover meal, Bro. Earl nodded to Bro. Blake, whose his rich baritone solemnly but joyfully began the first verse of "Amazing Grace" as he began walking down the center isle and out of the auditorium. We all stood and followed, singing.

We left the building quietly, smiling at each other without speaking, and most continued on to their cars and left, taking the lovely solemn experience home to savor.

But a few stayed in little knots of people to chat a few minutes, standing around in the parking lot. Aron's cousin was behind Trissy and me as we exited the church building, and greeted us sweetly when we got out front. Her husband had been invited to preach at another church Sunday night, so we asked how that had gone. Lindy, and then Ava, came and joined our little group, and we stood talking amiably about random little things, like friends do. Toby had had surgery the day before, on one of his knees he'd injured playing basketball. Lindy said he was in quite a bit of pain and acting pretty grumpy unless someone was hugging him. We talked about hugs, how some people are 'huggy' people and some are not, about cats and kittens and Ava said Austin said she could have two of ours if Maggie has kittens, as long as they stayed outside. We talked about the weather, how it keeps getting hot, then chilly again. Ava was wearing leather flip-flops and her feet were cold. About that time, Austin came out of the church where he'd been helping lock up and, after a little more discussion on being cold and how to avoid it, they left to go get supper. As they walked off, I thought of something. I ran to catch up, and when I did, told Ava she should 'borrow' his corn bag when she was cold. She turned to Austin. 'Corn bag! You have a corn bag?!'
'Oh yeah! I do!' and Austin was telling her the story as they left.

I returned to our little group. Aron's cousin had left by this time, and the parking lot was practically empty. Trissy and I visited with Lindy a couple more minutes before saying good-bye with light and happy hearts.

The whole evening was such a wonderful, special experience.