communion: 40 words in 40 days

Believers gather on Sundays to worship. We partake of communion representing the body and blood of Christ, our Savior. He commanded us to do so when he returned after his resurrection. 

Communion means sharing. It is from the Greek word meaning fellowship.

My oldest son Matthew (21) visited this weekend. He had minor surgery on Friday. All weekend I doted and nursed. And hovered. And finally asked, “do you want to be alone?” 

On Friday I had the honor and horror to sit in on the surgery. I’ve been taught that not all people appreciate gruesome detail, so I will spare you here. It was a strange surreal experience seeing the surgeon putting things where they should not belong. I kept telling myself, “He is ok. He is safe.” I tapped alternately one leg then the other. Tap. Sway. Chant. He is ok. Only weird medical-types do this. 

Today we decided to get another hour of rest and to “stream” church on our computer. Matt, Matthew and I gathered round the large screen and folded clothes. Bill Wellons preached on “The Place of the Skull.” As we snail through Luke, we have finally reached the last chapters. Jesus is on the cross. Bill paused to pound nails in wood. The sound called us to the scene. My Lord hung naked on a cross for me. His body, mutilated. He was mocked and folks sneered at him. And I am among the mockers. 

As we reached the close of the service, Bill mentioned communion. Matt shot down the stairs. I heard clanging. Matthew looked at me, “He’s getting communion.” We laughed. I love this about your dad, I said. 

He made it back up just in time. We sat among folded laundry. The dog napped in a spot of sunshine. We shared the body, the blood. 

This is communion.