This past Sunday was communion Sunday at church. The first Sunday of the month always is. This was the first time we've been there for communion Sunday in a while. I was glad to see in the bulletin that children come back from children's church to be with their families for communion, but I wasn't sure how it would go with Caleb. First of all, he was in one of his strange moods. He was being obstinant as all get out one minute and clinging to me to snuggle the next minute.
The sermon series this month is on grace. As I listened to the sermon, little did I know that I would experience a moment of grace during communion.
When the children came back into the sanctuary, Caleb came over and climbed up in my lap.
The pastor offered the beautiful words of communion:
"This is my body, broken for you. Take, eat. Do this in remembrance of Me.
This is my blood, shed for you. Take, drink. Do this in remembrance of Me."
Then we filed out of our seats. Caleb was holding my hand and Rudy was standing behind us. When we got to the serving station, I told Caleb to do what I did and gave him a piece of bread from the basket. I dipped my bread into the cup and he followed suit. The server whispered to him, "Jesus loves you." My eyes filled up with tears and my heart filled up with grace.
She was right. The server who doesn't know my child knew that Jesus loves him because she knows that He loves all children - even the ones who don't sit quietly in their seats during the opening hymns, even the ones who make faces at the people in the pew behind them, even the ones whose Daddies have to take them out for a couple of minutes because they are fiddling with hymnals and making noise. The symbolism and meaning of Christ's body and blood given for me and, even more, for Caleb, was overwhelming in that moment. God's grace was evident. Caleb doesn't understand what happened in that moment. He doesn't yet understand the meaning of what I'm sure he thought was a really strange little snack at church. He won't understand those things for a long time, but that doesn't make the practice any less meaningful for our family to share.
As we took our seats and I fought back tears of emotion, I held my child in my lap and thanked God for the gift of my son and His.
Yes, Jesus loves Caleb. He loves me too. He loves me even when I'm impatient, even when I'm unkind, even when I get angry and, amazingly, even when I'm unfaithful to Him. God's grace is evident everyday. I just have to open my eyes to see it.
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