Day 3: Grapes and Wheat

Yesterday was Sunday.

I went to church.

Communion.

Grape juice and crackers.

Dilemma.

I didn't take communion. And before you go all crazy on me about being too strict and forgoing the blessed sacraments of my savior, listen to the why.

Standing and singing praise songs, I thought of Jesus, the sacrificed lamb for the redemption of Israel. I thought of my adopted inheritance into this covenant and the forgiveness of my sin. I am so thankful for the completion of this promise, and for the reminder that communion provides. Hallelujah.

But -- and I'm just going to be painfully transparent here -- after two days of you-know-what, just the thought of grape juice began to make my palate tingle with temptation. I thought of the sweet acidity of the dark delicious drink, and the cracker -- oh the cracker -- melting away in glutinous glory on my tongue.

I went back and forth in my mind between the two sentiments. It was torturous, believe me. In the end, I realized that my salvation does not come from communion. That to take it and share in that corporate reminder is a privilege, and one that not everyone has. But obviously, for me it was bordering on being an idol made of grapes and wheat. So, instead I said a prayer of thanksgiving and asked God for the opportunity to share the joy of my salvation with another, so that one more might know the sacrifice and receive the blessing that awaits.