Paying Your Debt: a communion meditation

Many years ago, back when my wife and I were newly married and our oldest was still very young, we decided to make the trip to Cincinnati to visit my grandmother.

I wasn’t sure how many more opportunities I would have to see her, and I was finally to a place in life where I could afford to do something special for her. Not crazy special–but enough to show her how much she meant to me.

After a brief visit at her apartment, I suggested we head to a local restaurant for lunch. This was an important moment for me because up until that time, Grandma would take the lead–usually by cooking a fancy dinner for my whole family.

This time I would drive us in our car to the local Frisch’s Big Boy–one of Grandma’s favorite places–and pay for the whole meal.

The drive was uneventful. We arrived and were seated promptly. I confidently told Grandma to order whatever she wanted from the menu–it would be our treat. Grandma was not someone you had to remind to order food.

Our sandwiches and drinks arrived without a hitch and the conversation was great–reminiscing over happy memories of my childhood. Finally, the moment of truth arrived–our waitress asked if this would be one check–and I confidently raised my hand to signal that I would be taking care of the bill. I don’t remember the exact figure, but it was comfortably within our modest budget.

Instead of paying her directly, the waitress jerked her head several times toward the cash stand. I nodded that I understood, politely excused myself from our table, and strode to the register while reaching for my wallet. The bored look on the face of the man standing there shifted to mild annoyance as I casually tossed my credit card onto the counter with the bill.

“We only take cash,” he muttered.

Which was a problem…because I didn’t carry cash–at least not enough to pay the bill–and neither did my wife.

“No worries,” I said, returning the card to my wallet as if I truly wasn’t worried. “Where’s the nearest ATM?”

He sighed and jerked his thumb toward the bank across the parking lot. Apparently, the workers at Frisch’s don’t like to discuss payment methods!

It was mildly embarrassing to have to leave the restaurant to visit the ATM, but I knew we had plenty of money in our checking account. The only problem was as I approached the machine, it was flashing “Out of order” on its small green screen. Uh oh…

The trek back across the parking lot seemed much longer this time, which gave me plenty of opportunity to worry about what to do. When I entered the restaurant again–still with no solution, it was obvious that Grandma had figured out what was happening and had already taken action. She had paid the bill herself, including the tip, and now we had a new happy memory to enjoy–one that I would never live down…

Colossians 2:13-14 states: “When you were dead in your sins and in the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made you alive with Christ. He forgave us all our sins, having canceled the charge of our legal indebtedness, which stood against us and condemned us; he has taken it away, nailing it to the cross.”

During communion time, we remember the ultimate sacrifice Jesus made to pay our debt. God’s son died for your sins and mine! That sacrifice is important enough to us as believers that we celebrate it every week. Please join me in this special remembrance.

[[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, we are forever grateful to you for sending your one and only son to pay our debt of sin.
• Despite our best efforts and intentions, this is a debt we could never pay ourselves.
• Sin is not something that can be paid with cash, check, or credit card–or even through Bible reading, church attendance, or frequent prayer.
• Your path to forgiveness is not a frightening threat but a simple invitation: “Follow me.”
• Please help us to always celebrate and remember this wonderful truth.

Something from Nothing: a communion meditation

Every July 5th morning, my best friend Rob and I used to ride our bikes around the neighborhood near our homes picking up spent fireworks. Now, as you’d expect, most of what we found was nothing more than bits of shredded packaging and charred cardboard tubes, but occasionally we struck pay dirt: unexploded Roman candles, small CO2 cartridges, and even still usable butane lighters.

With an appropriate amount of glee for a couple of 10-year-olds who thought they were getting away with something, we toted our treasures home in plastic bags where we plotted various uses for the bounty that only pre-teen boys up-to-no-good would understand.

We didn’t do this because we frowned on litter or were big believers in recycling. We did it because we thought it was cool. And, frankly, we weren’t smart enough to understand the possible dangers of handling even trace amounts of gunpowder and other longevity-limiting chemicals.

In short, we saw real value in something that was…ordinary.

A similar story unfolds in John chapter 6. After feeding the 5000 and then walking on water, Jesus begins teaching about the bread of life. His audience is rightfully shocked when they mistakenly conclude He is endorsing cannibalism. Verses 48-56 are the crux of the conversation:

48 I am the bread of life. [Jesus says.] 49 Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, yet they died. 50 But here is the bread that comes down from heaven, which anyone may eat and not die. 51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats this bread will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.”

52 Then the Jews began to argue sharply among themselves, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?”

53 Jesus said to them, “Very truly I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. 54 Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day. 55 For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. 56 Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in them.

Catholics know this as the doctrine of transubstantiation, meaning the bread and wine are transformed into the actual body and blood of Jesus–which would be extraordinary. The vast majority of Bible scholars, however, classify this passage as just one of many examples of Jesus’ use of hyperbole and metaphor.

Instead of cannibalism, Jesus is introducing the New Covenant by comparing Himself and His coming sacrifice to two essential but mostly routine items: bread and blood.

So, as we enter into our weekly communion time, please take a moment to reflect on how the ordinary wafer and juice in your hands represent an extraordinary moment in history that we gladly celebrate and remember each Sunday.

[[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, you are far from ordinary!
• The grace and mercy, love and forgiveness You extend to Your believers are already extraordinary enough…
• …but thankfully, You didn’t stop there.
• You also created a special plan of salvation to allow us to live with You for eternity in heaven.
• And Your one and only son’s sacrifice brought that plan to fruition.
• You are truly extraordinary, and we give You all the praise as we celebrate communion today.