Communion Blog

Last night I was at church.

It was Good Friday.

We were discussing Isaiah 53, the prophecy predicting the messiah’s coming and his suffering, taking our sins upon himself and us being declared righteous because of it. Amazing. A prophecy written some 600 years before the birth of Christ, explaining how He would suffer and die for us.

And then the Lord’s Supper. I watched as others went ahead of me and dipped the bread in the cup. The bread went in white and came out dripping red, and I could not move. I couldn’t breathe. There in front of me were my Savior’s broken body and blood, crimson and dripping. Oh God, I was horrified by the reality Christ’s brokenness. For me. And then it was my turn. I dipped the bread in the wine and ate it. Immediately I wanted to throw up. There was a horrible taste, a horrible, gut-wrenching realization of what I was doing. I was taking part in the broken, mangled, bloody body of Christ. It was awful and awesome, disgusting and beautiful, the worst and the best experience of my life.

I was Sick.

Horrified.

Overwhelmed by the love of Christ, that He would suffer so!

If I am so disgusted and horrified at the suffering and pain of Christ, how much more is God disgusted and horrified by the suffering and pain of His Son?

He is doing something in me.

That was the worst and the best communion that I have ever experienced. I understood before what the Lord’s Supper means, but He took me deeper yesterday, to a place of deeper community with Christ in His suffering, and I was terrified and sick to know even the tiniest bit of the suffering of Christ. He took it for me. For you. God subjected his son to the most horrifying and awful experience in order to bring us to Him, to have community with us the way we should have, because we could not pay the price ourselves.

I am unable to express the feelings that I have about this. There are no words for the work of Christ in my heart, but I am grateful and overcome completely.