"la santa cena" literally translated as "the holy meal". In English we say Communion. It's celebrated all over the world in churches. It's form may look different in various denominations and cultures, but the heart is the same: to somehow repeat something that Jesus told His disciples to do in remembrance of Him. So we do it.
When I was younger, I didn't really understand what the fuss was all about. I loved celebrating Passover with my family, but when it came time for communion, the connection was missing for me. Part of the problem was that my church only celebrated it a few times a year during a special service. It was a sacred event, which I appreciate. But for me (and seemingly for others) the desire to make the event sacred made me miss part of the point. I wanted it to be full of reflection, deep repentence, and almost sorrow as I took the little plastic cup of grape juice. But I could never get somber enough to feel like I really "got it". When I started at the presbyterian church is when I finally started to wrestle with the whole sacrament. Why do we do it? What are we supposed to feel? How should we serve communion in our church? How often should it be served? Grape juice or wine? Matzoh or baguette? So many questions. But at the heart of all my questions was a desire to know Jesus better through this interaction He told us to do.
As the years have gone by, and the number of cultures and churches I've experienced, my love for the whole communion event has grown. This morning my church served communion and I knew going into it that my friend Yessy would be one of the people serving. And I decided that I would stand in the line to be served by her. Not that she holds any special power, but because she is one of those people that we always preach the gospel to each other. How beautiful to recieve communion (the gospel in material form) from someone who consistently gives you the gospel in verbal form. While Im sure we all miss out of part of the meaning of communion, this had to be one of the best ways to receive it. From the hands of my sister, as she gave me the cup and said, This is the blood of Jesus poured out for you. Drink this in remembrance of Him.
When I was younger, I didn't really understand what the fuss was all about. I loved celebrating Passover with my family, but when it came time for communion, the connection was missing for me. Part of the problem was that my church only celebrated it a few times a year during a special service. It was a sacred event, which I appreciate. But for me (and seemingly for others) the desire to make the event sacred made me miss part of the point. I wanted it to be full of reflection, deep repentence, and almost sorrow as I took the little plastic cup of grape juice. But I could never get somber enough to feel like I really "got it". When I started at the presbyterian church is when I finally started to wrestle with the whole sacrament. Why do we do it? What are we supposed to feel? How should we serve communion in our church? How often should it be served? Grape juice or wine? Matzoh or baguette? So many questions. But at the heart of all my questions was a desire to know Jesus better through this interaction He told us to do.
As the years have gone by, and the number of cultures and churches I've experienced, my love for the whole communion event has grown. This morning my church served communion and I knew going into it that my friend Yessy would be one of the people serving. And I decided that I would stand in the line to be served by her. Not that she holds any special power, but because she is one of those people that we always preach the gospel to each other. How beautiful to recieve communion (the gospel in material form) from someone who consistently gives you the gospel in verbal form. While Im sure we all miss out of part of the meaning of communion, this had to be one of the best ways to receive it. From the hands of my sister, as she gave me the cup and said, This is the blood of Jesus poured out for you. Drink this in remembrance of Him.
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