By Stephen R. Clark
Memory is weird. It tends to be somewhat volatile. Details can become blurry or exaggerated over time. But the central point usually holds as we reflect on our most precious memories.
We know that the essence of what we are recalling is true. There was love or sorrow, joy or loss, a new life coming into the world, an old life leaving. Most memories have something to do with change or transformation, for better or for worse.
We experience the activity connected to memories with our senses. The image of our soon-to-be-spouse standing before us as we share vows. The cry of our child outside when they’ve fallen. The aroma of our grandmother’s freshly baked bread.
That these samplings of our senses can be stored in our brains to be perused at will in our mind’s eye is amazing. We can practically touch the face of our beloved or taste the warm bread.
And beyond that, we can once again experience the emotions attached to these memories.
What a marvelous creation we are!
Communion tables in many churches are etched decoratively with the words, “In Remembrance of Me.” The phrase points to Jesus, of course. We hearken our minds and hearts toward the King of kings.
Specifically, we remember who he was as he walked on the earth. Fully God, fully man, living and moving and having his being in the world. That he spoke of truth, brought healing, showed love, and then was beaten and nailed to a cross. All for us. For all of us.
We are to remember that our sins—whenever memory of them nag at us—are forgiven and cleansed away. As far as the east is from the west. All because Jesus died on the cross, was buried, and then rose alive on the third day.
We are to remember that he gave himself fully for us to forgive our sins. And that he is here, nearby, with us and in us.
We are to remember that he intercedes for us, even now, before the Father. Watching over us, being for us.
Broken bread and poured wine. Body and blood. We do this in remembrance of him. Proclaiming his death until he returns. This is a declaration of the gospel.
Stephen R. Clark is a writer who lives in Lansdale, Pa., with his wife, BethAnn, and their two rescue cats, Watson and Sherlock.
Thank you for your time and effort in writing this. I minister in a small congregation in South Central Kentucky. I frequently use these Communion Meditations in our services.
Outstanding message