Blood on my Hands

When I heard that we were receiving communion as a church staff, I was thankful.  I needed it.  I was wearied from two stressful weeks of constant ministry. Lots of counseling, lots of planning, lots of situations in which I had no idea what to do.  I was tired.  That morning, it had taken everything within me just to get out of bed.  Hearing that we would receive communion was a ray of sunshine in the midst of my darkness.

We sat in a large circle and passed the elements from one person to the next.  I loved watching my friends receive communion and then offer it to their neighbor.  “I bet there’s a sermon in here,” I thought to myself. I turned from my constant sermonizing and directed my thoughts towards God.  I was grateful to receive communion.  I needed it.  As our pastors always said, “These are the gifts of God for the people of God,” and at this moment, I needed a gift from God.

The bread and chalice finally reached me and I whispered my gratitude – “Thanks be to God” – as I welcomed God’s gift.  Grasping the bread and juice, I turned to my neighbor and extended this gift to him –

Christ’s body broken for you.

Christ’s blood shed for you.

After transferring the elements to my neighbor, I looked down at my hands.  There, staring right back at me from the center of my palm, were a few drops of the grape juice.  Instinctively, I was about to wipe them off on my pants when a thought hit me square between the eyes; “His blood is on my hands and his life is my life.”  A wave of conviction washed over me.  I had come to communion today to get my spiritual encouragement for the day, completely neglecting the fact that I was responsible for his broken body.  I was the culprit of Jesus’ death, but I was also the recipient of Jesus’ life.

Christ’s body broken by you. And for you.

Christ’s blood shed by you. And for you.

What a beautiful mystery.  The gift of God at the hands of his people, yet always for his people. I had come to receive communion with a smug self-righteousness masquerading as humble piety.  I received communion in an unworthy manner, yet that is what I am every time the elements are offered to me. Unworthy.

Yesterday evening, we celebrated Jesus’ Last Supper with the disciples, in which he instituted the sacred ritual of communion. Today we mourn, that less than 24 hours from his meal with his friends, Jesus is abandoned, beaten, flogged, and crucified.  For the sake of our sins.  And to offer us life.

These are the gifts of God for the people of God.

Thanks be to God!