November 05, 2007


The words are ancient. The story they tell is powerful. Every week, I stand before a group of people and recite them. I retell the story. The silent attentiveness of everyone present attests to the power of these ancient words.

I take great care in the recitation. This is not the time to rush. Each word has its own taste and texture, and I savor each one just as I'll savor the bread I will taste after all the words are said.

To speak the words is a powerful thing. However, every once in awhile, someone else speaks, and I listen. Each word then becomes a gift that fills the heart. The joy within me swells, my eyes water up a bit, and a huge, ridiculous smile appears on my face. I wonder if I appear foolish to those around me, but then I realize that I don't mind, because I have just received something wonderful.

Jesus took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, "This is my body, broken for you. Do this in remembrance of me." In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink of it, in remembrance of me." For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes.

1 comment:

Betsy Hillig said...
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