As a Deacon in my church, I’ve had the honor of helping serve communion. These days, we use small, hourglass-shaped communion cups. One end holds a piece of bread, and the other holds grape juice. (Although, some older cups in our church might have turned to wine!)
Years ago, the Deacon’s would pass the plates of bread around and then serve little cups of juice. There is a science to this, as you do not want to spill grape juice on someone’s Sunday best. Blessedly that never happened. Afterwards, the Deacon’s would go to the front of the church, and the Pastor would serve them. He would explain what the elements represented, and the entire church would then eat the bread and drink the juice.
One Sunday, the other Deacons and I were lined up in front of the church, with our backs to the congregation. The Pastor approached each of us with the plate of bread in his hands, symbolizing Christ’s body. When he came to me, I picked up a piece of bread and brought my hands together in prayer as he continued to the next person.
The Pastor began to tell us that the bread represented the body of Christ, and he was telling us how Jesus had broken the bread during the Last Supper. As I stood there, the bread was between my left thumb and index finger, my right index finger twitched for no apparent reason. The twitch knocked the bread out from between my fingers. I watched in disbelief as it fell in slow motion to the floor.
There have been times in my life when the brain seems to kick into overdrive, with thoughts moving faster than seems possible. This was one of those moments. After a split second of shock, I started trying to figure out what to do. Should I ask for another piece, pretend to eat it, or pick up the bread from the floor?
I quickly decided I could not pretend to eat it. As a Christian I felt that would be a lie, especially while taking communion. I also did not want to ask for another piece. Communion bread is a Holy Sacrament. I was blessed to be partaking in that moment, and asking for another piece would imply that any piece of bread is fine. The piece of bread that had dropped represented Christ’s body broken for me.
So, I reached down, picked it up, gave a prayer of thanks, and at the appropriate moment, I ate it. It was important to me as a believer to partake in the meal in remembrance of Christ. I needed to push my petty concerns aside and focus on Christ. It was a humbling experience.
From time to time, things happen in our lives that make us reassess our focus. As long as we put Him and His desires first, we can be confident we’re moving in the right direction.
Have a blessed day.
Layman Ray