In which I get in trouble for my renegade theological viewpoints. Again.

This morning, in church, I had a sort of out-of-body experience. Now, I don't know if that's a sin, but it's sure a tad New Age for the environment. I'd never really had an out-of-body experience before, so maybe that's not quite what I mean. What happened was that I heard the pastor say something I've heard a gazillion times before, but I heard it as though for the first time.
It sounded weird.
He was introducing that Holy Sacrament of Communion, and he was talking about the scrap of cracker, and thimble of cheap juice, as the "Lord's Supper." I thought that if that was all Jesus had for dinner, it's no wonder he was so thin.

I don't mean any disrespect, and I am not the least bit flippant about this. In truth, I do think that the whole process is a ceremonial remembrance that has terrific meaning. It just struck me that someone who had never seen this before would be baffled.

I've always been grateful that the tiny bit of juice is so small, frankly. It tastes gross. It is to remind me of the blood that Jesus shed on the cross. The cracker-thing has no flavor, yet it is representative of the broken body of my Lord and Savior. Jesus didn't institute "The Lord's Supper" this way. He apparently ate a hearty meal with good wine, good bread, and good friends. It was that, He said, which was to remind us of what He did next.
The bible tells the story of His crucifixion from several perspectives.
History concurred.
There's this violent death which makes my skin crawl....but there's more even than that.
There is this story I read somewhere years ago about a monk walking in a field. He came across a hill of ants, busy as they are wont to be. The monk was well aware of the farmer, plowing the field, who was soon to destroy the hill of ants. The monk looked this way and that, in a vain attempt to find some way of warning the creatures of their impending doom. His voice did not attract even the smallest pause from the tiny ants, as they were too small to recognize that the thundering sound he made was coherent speech. The only way he could save them was if he could become one of them and warn them in a voice they could understand!
And.
Then.
He realized in a moment: that must have been what God did by becoming flesh and blood.
It is this remembrance that Jesus called us to.
I wondered, in church today, if we've forgotten the important parts.
If I sat with people I love, eating really fantastic whole-grain sourdough, and drinking a Petite Syrah....ah....that sounds divine! What if the focus of such a meal were to remind me of that God Who Became Flesh? Of my own need for help to be what I'm designed to be. What if EVERY meal was to remind me of that? Jesus actually says, "As often as you eat this bread and drink this cup," you tell His story.
I can't help but realize that I am fond of carbohydrates and also of the fruit-of-the-vine.
If I approach each meal as an opportunity for gratitude, and solemn remembrance, and also as an act of worship....would I be a drag at parties? I don't really think so. Jesus wasn't. He caught a lot of flack from the religious leaders of the day for looking like a party animal. The bible says they accused Him of being a glutton and a drunkard.
My point, albeit a wandering one, is that I think communion is something we do three times a day. Only, perhaps not with wine at every meal. Or if you are Kara, who eats only at gunpoint. What if Christians were less tasteless-cracker-and-gross-juice, and more linger-at-the-table-with-good-wine-and-friends? What if they were less uptight, and more like Jesus? I'd like Christians more.

It also occurred to me that perhaps where the bible says (1 Cor 11) that taking communion wrong makes you ill, refers to eating habits, as much as to hypocrites. Just a thought.

Anyway...I'm starving. I'm going to see what my man is cooking for me for dinner, and I'm going to think on this while I eat. Just in case that's the real communion, and what we did in church was God's way of getting me thinking.