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.

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.