Snacking with Jesus

Our church invites everyone to join in communion, every Sunday.  There was a Sunday that we had a child with us who was unfamiliar with communion.  I asked if he wanted to join us, and he did. This little boy walked with me to the front of our church.  As we approached, he asked "What is this, Sarah.  Why do you do this?"  In that moment, the best words that I had were something like:

"It's kind of like a snack to remind you that Jesus loves you, and that you love Him." 

The little boy looked at me, smiled and nodded, almost tipped the cup over on the altar, and took communion with me.

Snacking with Jesus on a Sunday morning. 

My daughter LOVES the communion bread, and the grape juice.  As we walked toward the communion table this past Sunday, she BEGGED me to have two servings of communion.  Of course I said no; we have to make sure there are enough Jesus snacks to go around. She asked if she could have mine.  Of course I said no; I need my Jesus snack SOOOO very badly this week.  She even asked to go up for "seconds" after we had returned to our seats.  No way, girlfriend.  We don't do that. 

Doesn't communion mean that everyone takes their own, single serving of Jesus, during one single moment on Sunday morning?

Wait. What?? 

I just denied my daughter a double serving of Jesus.  I just refused to share my serving of Jesus with her.  I REFUSED.  I mean, that Jesus snack was MINE, it wasn't for sharing.  I told her, on no uncertain terms, that people DO NOT return to the altar for "SECONDS" of communion.  

Oh my lands, I totally missed the point, and the opportunity, to show her what communion means to me. 

The homemade communion bread at our church is AMAZING, and you can't beat Welch's grape juice.  They make a delicious pairing.  But surely it's not enough to sustain us for the hour, or the day, or the week;  it was never intended to.  It's a sacrament, for that moment.  And in that moment, it's not intended to be shared between people, not intended to replace lunch, not intended to return to for seconds.  Because it's not the end.  It's the beginning.  I mean, I MAY sneak an extra piece piece of bread for her next week, as a peace offering, but then I will tell her that it is intended to be only a snack.  Communion must happen in all of our moments, in all of our days.

Give us this day our Daily Bread.  We need DAILY bread.  DAILY communion. 

As I consumed my Jesus snack this Sunday, I cried.  I knew that the communion cup was being emptied, so that my cup could be filled again.  I knew that I was taking this in, so that I could give it away again.  In the very same moment, friends were surrounding my very ill little girl, in another room of the church.  She needed to be hospitalized.  We scooped her up, and headed to the hospital. As I rode in the ambulance, I was thankful for communion, and thankful that my cup had been filled. 

Here I am today, empty and hungry again, but knowing that seconds are freely given. If I relied on that single serving, not to be shared, Sunday portion of communion, I would never get through my days and weeks.  I need daily sustenance.  Homemade communion bread and Welch's grape juice on a Sunday altar is good nourishment for the Sunday soul.  But everyday isn't Sunday.  

Today is Monday.  My Monday communion was taking a two hour nap on a hospital sofa, dreaming of my mother, and praying for all of my people.  When I woke, I saw my sleeping girl across the room, I had messages from my husband and children back home. I took a sip of cold coffee, and ate a few potato chips as my daily bread, while hearing the words "It is well" playing in my mind.  

Living my life in communion means living everyday of my life in communion.  Double servings, sharing with others, and going back for seconds.  Forever and ever. Amen.