By Stephen R. Clark
Here we go again. It’s time for Communion, again. Once more with feeling! Right? You think, This feels like deja vu. Like using shampoo—wash, rinse, repeat. Why can’t this be once and done? After all, that’s what Christ did. Died on the cross once. Wiped out our sin once. And now we are redeemed and headed toward heaven.
Yes, what Christ did he did once, and there is no need for Jesus to repeat his death and resurrection. But we have a desperate need to hold in our hearts and minds the reality, the power, the amazement of what he accomplished.
To do this well requires us to become as little children.
Among children, again is a favorite word. “Do it again, Daddy!” “Take me there again, Mommy!” Children can seem like little stuck records. They feel the joy of a moment, experience the wonder of life with new eyes, and they want to go again and again and again . . . until they are exhausted. Yet, even then, as they’re nodding off to sleep, they’ll mumble, “Again!”
Repeating something again and again plants the memory deep and multiplies the joy. The same can be true for us “grown-up and serious” adults.
Repetition is sacred. God’s mercies renew every morning, and we need them every morning. And afternoon. And evening. Thank God for the grace of again!
So, here we are at Communion, again. Washing, rinsing, repeating the breaking of the bread and drinking the juice. Remembering the reality behind these symbols. The wonder-working power of the blood, shed for us. His body, nailed to the cross for us.
In the Old Testament, the children of Israel offered their sacrifices again and again. Burnt offerings. Grain offerings. Peace offerings. Sin offerings. Trespass offerings. Through these offerings they worshipped the most-high God, atoned for sins, and acted out their obedience. With each offering, the fire and the smoke reminded them of who he was and their relationship to him.
Now, we cry out again!
Again, Lord, remember us in our neediness, in our sorrows, in our joys. Again, Lord, let us recall all you have done for us. All you are to us. All you provide for us. All you have created us to be.
In gladness, again, we bow our hearts and receive these symbols of holiness and redemption.
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Stephen R. Clark is a writer who lives in Lansdale, Pa., with his wife, BethAnn, and their two rescue cats, Watson and Sherlock.
I was most impressed with the way truth was shown in this meditation. If I should use these thoughts I will most heartedly cite Mr. Clark for this eye-opening communion thought. Thank you Mr. Clark!!!