The Better Decision: a communion meditation

You may find this hard to believe, but I really didn’t get into trouble all that often as a kid. I brought home mostly As and Bs, ate most of my vegetables, and bathed almost every day.

But I certainly wasn’t perfect. One of the best examples of this was an incident that happened at middle school. And just to clarify, I attended a Catholic school 4th through 8th grade, so rule violations were not just a violation of school policy but also an affront to God Himself! (At least that’s what the teachers told us!) In other words–breaking a rule was considered a sin!

As you might expect, fighting or retaliation of any type was not allowed. And for the record, I didn’t start this incident. Let me set it up for you…

It had snowed several inches recently, and the conditions were at the point where the snow was very good for packing–as in packing into snowballs. Even as 8th graders, recess always followed lunch, and most students ate quickly so they could maximize their outdoor time. For one reason or another, lunch ran late that day for me–perhaps I had to wait for the cafeteria ladies to heat up more pre-packaged lunches.

Anyway, after finishing my meal and donning my winter coat, knit hat, and ski gloves, I headed out the door to the area where my friends usually hung-out. But instead of enjoying a refreshing wave of crisp winter air, I was immediately pelted with snowballs from what seemed like every direction.

In an instant, I had to make a fight or flight choice–and because the adrenalin was pumping–I chose to fight! Taking advantage of a brief lull while my assailants celebrated their success, I managed to make and deliver several snowballs, which–I’m happy to report–successfully found their targets. (Sidenote: I used to have a pretty good arm!)

I must have been the lucky first victim because the teachers assigned to supervise recess quickly rounded up all of those involved–including me because I retaliated. Had I taken the beating without retaliating, I would have been absolved from blame.

From the recess area, we were herded into an empty classroom where the principal scolded us for our actions. I was singled out because my behavior was in direct conflict with my reputation as a good student–someone who never caused trouble before. At least I could hold that distinction over my “always-seemed-to-be-in-trouble” assailants!

Later that night, my parents made good on their “Fighting is not the answer, but by all means protect yourself” dictum I had heard from a young age. I wasn’t punished, but my actions weren’t celebrated either.

So, I was capable of fighting back and took full advantage.

But, in a far more consequential moment in history, consider what happened in the Garden of Gethsemane, just after Judas identified Jesus to the authorities with a kiss:

Jesus replied, “Do what you came for, friend.”

Then the men stepped forward, seized Jesus and arrested him. With that, one of Jesus’ companions reached for his sword, drew it out and struck the servant of the high priest, cutting off his ear.

“Put your sword back in its place,” Jesus said to him, “for all who draw the sword will die by the sword. Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels? But how then would the Scriptures be fulfilled that say it must happen in this way?” (Matthew 26:50-54)

Jesus was certainly capable of fighting back with the huge fighting force the God put at His disposal, but He chose *not* to take that option.

As we take communion today, please pause to consider how you and I are the direct beneficiaries of Jesus’ decision.

[[the bread]]

At the Last Supper, as Jesus reclined with his Disciples at the table…he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.”

[[the juice]]

In the same way, after the supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.”

Please join me in prayer…

• Father God, how good it is to see the difference between being capable of doing something and actually carrying it out.
• Thank you for this lesson and its far-reaching ramifications down through history!
• May we always remember the sacrifice Your son made on our behalf.

Seeking Uninterrupted Routine: a communion meditation

During COVID, I adopted the habit of walking the neighborhood a couple times per week. It was a good excuse to get out of the house and get some much-needed exercise and fresh air. Because I’m a creature of habit, *a* route quickly became *the* route–my only variation was the direction: frontwards or backwards. Either direction takes about 45 minutes at my–admittedly quick–pace.

From the beginning, I elected to leave my phone at home, knowing full well that this omission would prevent me from counting my steps, listening to music, taking calls, being located, and answering email or texts. The Pandemic ushered in a new era of working from home, but that brought with it the sense of being too connected, too available, which in my mind overrode any potential benefits.

Because interacting with others was frowned upon and potentially dangerous during this time, I also walked with little awareness of my neighbors who might also be enjoying a stroll. No waving or talking–at least not beyond the obligatory “Hi!”–helped me stay focused on walking.

On rare occasions, I would bring a small plastic bag with me to pick-up litter. Odd bits of paper and plastic detracted from the overall sense of peace and serenity on the current walk, so picking it up removed a distraction from future walks. I thought of it as an investment.

So, with the route set and interruptions minimized, my mind was free to wander. But then something unexpected happened…I meandered into running dialogues with God–about work, family, health, church, events in the news, and even reflections on that morning’s Bible reading.

Sometimes it felt like prayer or worship but not all of the time. Often it felt like casual conversation–as in “Here’s what I’m thinking about this, God. What do you think?” Other moments seemed meditative or reflective: “I really needed to hear what I read in Psalms today! That part about <fill in the blank> was very inspiring.”

Then there were moments when it felt as if various characters from the Bible visited with me as I walked–Moses, Elisha, Samuel, David, Peter, and Paul–heroes of the faith as well as average folks like me. Rather than the product of an overactive imagination, I came to see these as interactions with my spiritual neighbors.

I say all of this to paint a picture in our collective minds about the importance of taking time to be alone with God. Our lives are so busy, so full. We have devices and the World Wide Web to keep us connected and occupied to the point of likely adding more stress and causing more problems than they solve. Routine is boring, while constant interruption makes us feel productive.

As we prepare for communion today, I invite each one of us to find some way to take a break from the chaotic busyness of our harried lives by purposely investing in even a few precious moments of uninterrupted routine with God each day.

[[the bread]]

At the Last Supper, as Jesus reclined with his Disciples at the table…he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.”

[[the juice]]

In the same way, after the supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.”

[[prayer]]

Please join me in prayer…

• Father God, how good it is that you are never far away and always eager to participate in our lives!
• But our attention is constantly lured away from you by the affairs of this world.
• Help us to heed the advice of Psalm 46:10 (“Be still and know that I am God.”) by making you an uninterrupted part of our daily routine.