Communion Sunday

This isn’t about rabbits or Anne. I was looking for a photo to grace the post as usual and decided to borrow it because it’s a great springtime picture.

I have been thinking about Communion today, because the church we’ve been attending had their spring communion service this Sunday. We didn’t go to church partially because we have a nasty cold, but also because it felt awkward to us to just watch communion.

Awkward, because we’re used to having communion every Sunday and anyone who has a walk with Jesus is invited to participate. We liked this. You can’t very well go along taking communion each Sunday while putting up fusses on the side or not being serious about your walk with Jesus. You end up sitting in your pew every Sunday and coming face to face with what Jesus did for you and that He’s coming soon, and everybody matters. I’ll never lose respect for the sight of the communion table, beautiful with candles or flowers, and the golden glow of the cup and wafers holders. And most Sundays, no matter what we’d walked through with each other during the week, there was this hopeful knowing that He has taken our shame and switched it up for a home in Heaven someday. So communion, to me, is mostly a celebration of that.

I think I caught these simplistic beliefs from my unconventional forbears on my father’s side, we won’t mention any names, okay? Besides both Elv and I have our journey, if you will, that doesn’t exactly help shore up the “close” communion cause.

Thus the poignant missing of something so precious and vital in my christian life. How can anyone decide for me whether or not I may or may not participate?

Now, I don’t expect anybody to come along to comfort me in my loss about this. And please don’t try to justify or demean any of the methods or beliefs I’ve mentioned here. I’m not trying to change anybody’s world view. I’m only saying how it feels to me right now.
    Most of all, let me not be dangerous for anyone flailing around looking for loop holes or reasons to up-end our goodly heritage.

Let me hasten to say that I deeply respect and value the culture that is mine. Because I’ve seen enough of what happens when you deny you have one and lose your moorings in general. To claim that your only moorings are in Jesus sounds great, but it doesn’t tell the whole story. We are humans living on the planet as God intended, each of us in a spot, on the time line, where we must live in community. Who we are, can be traced to that community. Who we are, in Christ, will definitely make a difference to the community with whom we belong, as well.

So maybe you can take a person out of the Mennonite culture; you can’t take the Mennonite culture out of the person. And why would you? Pray, tell!

Here’s my rant for the year. I know of no other cultural group so anxious to show the proper amount of embarrassment for themselves.  Oh I know, there’s all the reasons. And some of those offended little ones should seek higher ground. Don’t forget, Jesus had advise for offenders, something about mill stones and the sea. May I just say this? Every culture has them. Some hidden, rotten thing. Why hide behind that?

Be who you are, people! Be the best, most Christ-like Mennonite, Baptist, or Church of Christ-er you can possibly be. Get real and humble at the cross. Be respectful of the culture you belong to. Belong well. So, I’ll have communion done so as it is. But by God’s grace, I’ll have provided moorings for our grandchildren. A safe place to walk in the fear of the Lord. They’ll have to constantly be stepping upward, no matter where they go to church, always. Jesus said,”Be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.”

Until He comes. As oft as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you show the Lord’s death, until He comes.