By Tom Claibourne

Twenty-six verses. Mark 14:1-26 comprises less than a third of the chapter, but it is filled with a whirlwind of passionate emotions and events.

• We see envy, fear, anger, deception, malice, hatred, and evil plots:

“The chief priests and the teachers of the law were scheming to arrest Jesus secretly and kill Him” (v. 1).

• We see gratitude, love, a sacrificial offering, some misunderstanding, an explanation, and a gospel message for the ages:

A woman touched by the grace of God offered an expensive expression of love and gratitude to Jesus by anointing him amid a confused gathering of people. Jesus honored her (vv. 3-9).

• We see selfish betrayal, sadistic pleasure, and an empty reward:

“Then Judas Iscariot, one of the Twelve, went to the chief priests to betray Jesus to them. They were delighted to hear this and promised to give him money. So he watched for an opportunity to hand him over” (vv. 10, 11).

• We see preparation, a meal of remembrance, uncomfortable words, self-evaluation, warnings, an exciting prophecy, a song, and a departure to fulfill a mission:

Jesus gathered with his disciples to share the Passover meal, where he warned about harsh events ahead, gave new meaning to Passover, and celebrated his coming kingdom. After a song, he led them out to a dark garden where he knew his betrayer and captors would soon arrive. He calmly went forth to carry out his mission (vv. 12-26).

In the Lord’s Supper we encounter many of the same things.

Our sin-cursed world is still filled with envy, fear, anger, deception, malice, hatred, and evil plots. Sometimes these things even find their way into our hearts. In Communion we confront and confess them.

In the Lord’s Supper we celebrate the grace of God and are prompted, like the woman in Mark 14, to gratefully offer ourselves and all we have as a shameless expression of love and gratitude.

Selfish betrayal, sadistic pleasure, and empty rewards still surround us, so the table of remembrance invites us to acknowledge and confess our own betrayal, and our need of a rescuer.

Communion time requires preparation of emblems and hearts. It involves uncomfortable words, self-evaluation, warnings, predictions, songs, and a departure to fulfill our mission. We are prompted to take an honest look at our life and motivated to move forward with the mission Jesus left for us, even if it is uncomfortable.

What will you see and feel today at the Lord’s table, and what will you do in response?

Tom Claibourne celebrates the Lord’s Supper with the Bethlehem Church of Christ in Winchester, Ohio, where he serves as preaching minister.

By Tom Claibourne

Legends abound regarding the origin of Valentine’s Day and the namesake for the holiday. At least three different Saint Valentines, all of them martyrs, are mentioned in the early martyrologies associated with February 14.

The best-known account features a Roman priest who was martyred during the reign of Emperor Claudius for refusing to renounce his faith and for defying an edict issued by the emperor.

The Roman Empire under Claudius was involved in many bloody, unpopular military campaigns. As a result, it became increasingly difficult to recruit soldiers. The emperor reasoned that the Roman men did not want to keep leaving their wives and families to fight, so he simply canceled all marriages and engagements in Rome.

Valentine began secretly marrying couples and aiding persecuted believers. He was soon dragged before the authorities and condemned to die. While languishing in prison, Valentine was visited by many young people who encouraged him with notes and flowers.

One of the frequent visitors was the daughter of a prison guard, with whom he developed a strong friendship. On the day Valentine was scheduled to be beaten and beheaded, February 14, ad 269 (or 270), he left his friend a note signed, “Love, from your Valentine.”

A pope two centuries later set aside February 14 to honor Saint Valentine. Gradually, that date became the time each year for exchanging love messages and giving simple gifts like flowers.

Powerful story. Nice tradition. Good pattern to remember and follow.

Some aspects of the story have probably been embellished, but the fact is, we don’t need a speculative legend to inspire us with an account of sacrificial love.

The Lord’s Supper calls us to remember the ultimate Valentine love. It points to the God who ordained and sanctified marriage not long after creation. A God who set the standard for selfless love as seen in his patient relationship with his people throughout Bible history. A God who sent his only Son to rescue us from the dark prison of sin through his brutal death on a cross and his glorious resurrection.

That’s the ultimate Valentine story, a story that inspires us to honor marriage, love selflessly, give generously, and be faithful unto death. That’s a story worth remembering. That’s a Savior worth following, even if someone in power commands us to do otherwise.

That’s Valentine love.

Tom Claibourne celebrates the Lord’s Supper with the Bethlehem Church of Christ in Winchester, Ohio, where he serves as preaching minister.

By Tom Claibourne

The Bible is very bloody. Two-thirds of the books mention blood, with more than 450 total references. Blood is the scarlet thread that runs through the Bible and is central to Christianity.

Many sincere Christians have set out to read through the entire Bible, only to get bogged down in the seemingly endless details concerning animal sacrifices. Why so many sacrifices? Why so much blood, when the Bible clearly states that the blood of animals cannot take away sins (Hebrews 10:3, 4, 11)?

The Old Testament sacrificial system was part of a symbolic process God used to prepare the world for the coming of the Savior, Jesus, to die for the sins of the world. It was merely a shadow of what was to come (Hebrews 10:1).

The animal sacrifices ultimately impressed on people their need for forgiveness and what Jehovah God was willing to do about it. Each time an animal died in their place the Jewish people vividly saw the messy and destructive results of sin. Sin devastates lives. Sin creates a barrier between us and a holy God, resulting in death, just as God had warned mankind from the beginning.

The sacrificial system also provided a powerful lesson about the grace and mercy of God. It forcefully announced that he was willing to accept a substitute to die in our place. Yet long before God issued instructions concerning animal sacrifices, he had already demonstrated his willing grace.

After Adam and Eve fell into sin, the Bible says, “The Lord God made garments of skin for Adam and his wife and clothed them” (Genesis 3:21). An animal died in their stead. A substitute.

Later, when God interceded to stop Abraham from sacrificing his son Isaac on Mount Moriah, he provided a ram for Abraham to offer “instead of his son” (Genesis 22:13). A substitute.

Solomon’s temple was built many years later on Mount Moriah and became the site of countless bloody sacrifices. Substitutes. God’s grace shone forth even though the sacrifices were inadequate for the removal of sin.

The city of Jerusalem grew and expanded in the area around Mount Moriah. That was not a geographical coincidence. God knew back in the days of Adam, and in the days of Abraham, that his own Son would one day give his life as a ransom for sinners just outside Jerusalem.

Jesus died on a cross in our place not far from the hill of sacrifices known as Mount Moriah. Jesus was our substitute, and we are made holy through his redeeming sacrifice (Hebrews 10:10).

The emblems of the Lord’s Supper prompt us to consider the high cost of our sin, the matchless grace of God, and the selfless gift of Jesus. His blood was shed to free us. He was the substitute we needed.

Tom Claibourne celebrates the Lord’s Supper with the Bethlehem Church of Christ in Winchester, Ohio, where he serves as preaching minister.

By Tom Claibourne

The Lord’s Supper is quite paradoxical. It looks backward and forward. It calls us to look upward but also inward. It is utterly profound yet disarmingly simple. It celebrates life while focusing on death.

The Communion emblems prompt feelings of assurance while also calling for an honest self-evaluation regarding our sin. They honor Jesus’ death but also his resurrection. They help us celebrate the forgiveness of our sins while reminding us of our ongoing struggle with temptation.

The Lord’s Supper stirs tears of repentance but also smiles of celebration. It calls forth horror at the intensity of Jesus’ suffering yet also gratitude for what his sacrificial death provides for us.

Possibly the most surprising paradox of all is that Communion is a shared meal that has its deepest fulfillment and purpose in the individual heart of each participant. Though we partake in a group of people that may be quite large and diverse, ultimately we are keeping a personal appointment with the Lord of the heavens who has invited us to meet him there.

The prospect of feeling alone in a crowd of people typically isn’t appealing to us, but in this unique setting it is a blessing beyond description. We are privileged to share a common bond with people of varied backgrounds, ages, ethnicity, and struggles, while still knowing we have the personal attention of the Creator of the universe.

We can exchange knowing smiles with those passing the emblems and with those seated next to us, yet still enter a solitary prayer closet to meet with our Lord. We celebrate the unifying power of the Lord’s Supper, but ultimately it is a time to be alone with God at the throne of grace.

The Lord’s Supper is a time of self-examination. It is a time for introspection, repentance, confession, and praise. It is a time for new beginnings. It is a time to be alone with God, no matter how many people are around us. Then after meeting Jesus there, we can live with purpose and power among people who follow Christ and among those who need to know him.

Let’s celebrate solitude and a new perspective, alone in a crowd.

Tom Claibourne celebrates the Lord’s Supper with the Bethlehem Church of Christ in Winchester, Ohio, where he serves as preaching minister.

By Kay Moll

In 1999 an evangelist visited a village in the northern part of Cambodia that for many years had been under the control of the Khmer Rouge. Christianity was seemingly unheard of. If people professed any kind of faith, it was in Buddha or their ancestral spirits.

But when the evangelist came to this particular village, he was surprised at the people’s eagerness to hear and respond to the gospel. He said it seemed to him as though they had been waiting for him. One old woman told him they had been waiting . . . waiting for 20 years!

She described what happened when the soldiers of the Khmer Rouge came to their village. They dragged people out of their huts and forced them to begin digging a deep pit that the villagers knew would be their common grave. They shot anyone who tried to escape.

When the pit was dug, the people were told to stand at the edge of it. They waited for the blows that would bring death. They began to cry out . . . to their ancestors . . . to their gods . . . to anyone they thought might help. One woman remembered a story her mother had told her a long time before and she began to cry out to “the God who hung on a cross.” She thought if anyone would care about what was happening to them, it would be a “God who hung on a cross,” a God who knew what it was like to suffer. Others took up the cry and then something incredible happened. Instead of killing them, the soldiers just slipped away into the forest and left them there. Since then, the people had been waiting for someone to come and tell them more about this God.1

As we come around this table today, we remember when we were weighed down by sin, unable to help ourselves. Desperate. Condemned to die. But then we learned that “God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16).

We remember his body, broken for us. We remember his blood, spilled out for us. We give thanks for that sacrifice. We give thanks to “the God who hung on a cross.”

________

1Taken from The God Who Hung on the Cross by Dois I. Rosser Jr. and Ellen Vaughn, 2003 by International Cooperating Ministries. Used by permission of Zondervan; www.zondervan.com.

Kay Moll is a speaker and writer living in Mason, Ohio.

By Kay Moll

In his book A Distant Grief, Kefa Sempangi says when he began his ministry in Uganda, he was challenged by some older ministers about the need for continual repentance. One of them would often ask him, “Are you repenting? Are you walking in the light? Are you being broken?”

The older minister went on to stress how important it is to be broken, even as Jesus was broken for the world. He said to be broken is to have no pride. If there is pride, there is no confession. If there is no confession, there is no forgiveness. Those who are broken are broken to heal broken relationships. Those who are broken do not find their identity in always being right.

Another minister read the story of the feeding of the five thousand. He read how Jesus took the loaves and the fish and looked up to Heaven and blessed and broke the loaves. Then he said, “Until God breaks your will, he will never use you. You will remain only a nice loaf of bread.”

He went on to say that the believer’s commitment to other believers should be no less than that of Jesus himself. The believer should be willing to say, “This is my body, broken for you.” And then the believer must be willing to offer talents, abilities, time, and resources to be broken for the good of others.

As you meet around the Lord’s table and as you thank him for allowing his body to be broken for you, ask yourself if you are willing to be broken for him and for others. Examine your heart to see if while accepting his great sacrifice, you have chosen in reality to remain a nice, unbroken loaf of bread.

Ask yourself, “Am I repenting? Am I walking in the light? Am I being broken?”

Kay Moll is a speaker and writer living in Mason, Ohio.

By Kay Moll

Paul Brand tells the story of something that happened in 1802*. A smallpox epidemic had broken out in a Spanish settlement in Bogota, Colombia. The colonists sent a desperate cry for help to King Carlos IV in Spain. They poured out their fear that the whole colony would be wiped out by the disease and they asked for help.

King Carlos had had his own three children vaccinated against the disease—even though the treatment was new and still controversial. But no way for transporting the vaccine had been developed. The king and his advisers finally came up with a daring plan.

They took 22 boys from a local poorhouse and put them on a ship along with five cows (to serve as backup hosts for the vaccine). Five of the boys were vaccinated as the voyage began, and then every 10 days two more boys were vaccinated with the live virus obtained by drawing it from the scars of those vaccinated just before them.

When the ship made a stop in Venezuela, the last boy was keeping the vaccine alive. The doctor with the expedition vaccinated 28 more boys in Venezuela (plus about 2,000 of the local population) and continued with the new boys on to Bogota. Everyone in the city was vaccinated and the threat of the epidemic ended.

People were also vaccinated in Peru, Argentina, and the Philippines. The lives of hundreds of thousands were saved because of the 22 boys who, having overcome the disease, formed a living chain of help to those who had yet to overcome.

The cries of a desperate world reached up to God—the cries of those who were helpless to save themselves, the cries of those who faced certain death if help did not come. And God knew what was required: the blood of one who had already overcome the disease.

As you meet around his table, pour out your thanks to God for one he sent. Pour out your thanks to God for the blood that was shed, the blood of Jesus Christ, the overcomer.

*Paul Brand and Philip Yancy, In His Image (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1997).

Kay Moll is a speaker and writer living in Mason, Ohio.

By Kay Moll

In his book The Applause of Heaven, Max Lucado tells of an earthquake that struck Soviet Armenia in 1988. Just before the earthquake, a young mother named Susanna, along with her 4-year-old daughter, had arrived at her sister in-law’s apartment. The whole building collapsed, and Susanna and her daughter were trapped under tons of concrete and debris.

Help was tortuously slow in coming. The two were trapped for eight days. Susanna’s heart was pierced by her child’s pitiful cries for something to drink. In the midst of the nightmare, she remembered seeing a program on television about an explorer in the Arctic who was dying of thirst. One of his companions cut open his own hand and put the life-giving liquid in the mouth of his friend.

In the midst of the debris it was easy for Susanna to find some broken glass. She cut open a finger and put it in her daughter’s mouth. The child’s thirst was eased, but quickly came back, and the daughter began to cry, “Mommy, cut another finger.” And time after time, the mother cut her own hands in order to sustain the life of the child.

What an incredible picture of what God did for the world on Calvary! He knew the sacrifices of the Old Testament were only temporary. They could not fully satisfy. Only one thing could.

And so, on a lonely hill, a spear was thrust and a side was pierced. The blood came out . . . the blood that takes away the sins of the world. The only blood that can save.

What can wash away my sin?

Nothing but the blood of Jesus;

What can make me whole again?

Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Oh! precious is the flow

That makes me white as snow;

No other fount I know,

Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Kay Moll is a speaker and writer living in Mason, Ohio.

By Jeff Faull

“I, John, your brother and companion in the suffering and kingdom and patient endurance that are ours in Jesus. . . . On the Lord’s Day I was in the Spirit, and I heard behind me a loud voice like a trumpet” (Revelation 1:9, 10, author emphasis).

Today is the Lord’s Day, but it doesn’t quite seem the same.

John was being punished. We are not.

John was suffering. We are not.

John was alone. We’re not.

John was an apostle. We’re not.

John was an eyewitness. We’re not

But we are trying to listen to God, and it is the Lord’s Day!

I’ve always been intrigued by that designation: “the Lord’s Day.” From childhood I’ve been taught the importance of gathering around the Lord’s table on the Lord’s Day.

This is the only time the phrase is directly used in Scripture, though it must be the day referred to in Acts 20:7 and
1 Corinthians 16:2 and John 20:19.

Without getting bogged down in the details, there are multiple voices from early church history and from Bible scholars confirming the Lord’s Day as the first day of the week. For instance, Justin Martyr wrote, “On Sunday we all hold our joint meeting; for the first day is that on which God, having removed darkness and chaos, made the world, and Jesus Christ our Savior rose from the dead. On the day before Saturday they crucified him; and on the day after Saturday, which is Sunday, having appeared to his apostles and disciples, he taught these things.”

I won’t drag this on. But Jesus rose from the grave on the first day. The church began on the first day. Early believers met on the first day.

Interestingly, Eugene Peterson in The Message simply renders Revelation 1:10 as “It was Sunday.”

Few believers would have dreamed of disputing the meaning and placement of the Lord’s Day in the infancy of the church.

Well anyway, it’s Sunday—the Lord’s Day—and for centuries believers have gathered on this special day to break bread and remember Jesus. Today we follow that beautiful example and we proclaim the death of Jesus on his day until he comes.

Jeff Faull serves as senior minister with Mount Gilead Church in Mooresville, Indiana, and as one of CHRISTIAN STANDARD’s contributing editors.

By Jeff Faull

Imagine a child asking the apostle Paul, “Would you tell me a story?” Where would he start?

He could tell about his Damascus road experience, adventures at sea, the time he was bitten by a snake, and the great basket escape. He could speak of the time Eutychus fell asleep during his sermon and fell out the window and died. Then there were the occasions he was stoned and left for dead. He could relate his vision of the third heaven. He might mention his authorship of at least a dozen books of the Bible.

Paul could say, “Let me tell you of the time . . .”

• The Jews were pursuing me and I had a personal escort of 472 soldiers as bodyguards.
• I gave my testimony to the king, and he was more scared than I was.
• I mouthed off to the high priest because I didn’t realize he was the high priest.
• I dogged the Roman government by flashing my Roman citizenship card.
• I took on a sorcerer who tried to cast a spell on me.
• I accidentally incited a riot.
• I spent time alone in the desert with Christ.

There would be so much that Paul could relate. Paul Reese wrote, “What Socrates is to philosophy, and Shakespeare is to literature, Paul is to the Christian faith. There was a total-ness about Paul that is quite staggering.”

But the first thing Paul would speak of would not be something he did but rather, something he received. In 1 Corinthians 15:3, 4 he wrote, “For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received, that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and that He was buried, and that He was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures” (New American Standard Bible).

And in 1 Corinthians 11:23-26,  “For I received from the Lord that which I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus in the night in which He was betrayed took bread; and when He had given thanks, He broke it and said, ‘This is My body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of Me.’ In the same way He took the cup also after supper, saying,  ‘This cup is the new covenant in My blood; do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of Me.’ For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until He comes.”

Paul’s story was not his own; it was Christ’s. And his story is also our story as we gather with this cup and loaf today.

Jeff Faull serves as minister with Mount Gilead Church, Mooresville, Indiana, and also as a CHRISTIAN STANDARD contributing editor.

By Jeff Faull

Did you ever try one of those love tester machines at the mall? You drop your coin in and grasp the handle as all your friends watch. The buzzers sound and the lights flash and the machine tells you your “love quotient.” You might be hot, passionate, burning, wild, mild, harmless, clammy, all the way down to cold or blah.

Have you ever wasted a quarter on that? By the way, those machines came out in the 1930s and are totally random in their rating selection. Maybe that bursts a bubble for some of you, or perhaps it lifts a lifelong feeling of inferiority.

What if there were a machine that could gauge our passion for God? What if we had a God-passion tester? I’m afraid there is no such machine. Football coach Chuck Noll once said, “The nice thing about football is that you have a scoreboard to show how you’ve done. In other things in life, you don’t. At least not one you can see.”

Throughout history, as recorded in Scripture, God has been looking for people who have a passion for him. In the first book of the Bible, he told Abraham, “Now I know you trust me.” When God gave the Ten Commandments he said, “I love those who love me.” In the time of the kings, God asked for wholehearted devotion. In fact he said, “I am looking over all the earth to see whose heart is completely mine.”

In the New Testament, we are reminded that the greatest commandment is to love the Lord your God with all your heart. We are promised that all things work together for good for those who love God. We are told that the Father is looking for true worshippers.

It is clear God hates lukewarm attitudes. An entire church is accused of having left their first love. Jesus said, “These people honor me with their lips but their hearts are far from me” (Matthew 15:8).

The teaching is consistent throughout the New Testament. Paul urged in Romans 12:11, “Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor.” God is still looking for people who have a passion for him.

Since the beginning of time he has been looking and he will still be looking for that passion when Christ returns. The apostle said, “There is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day; and not only to me but also to all who have loved His appearing” (2 Timothy 4:8, New American Standard Bible).

There is no doubt God is looking for people who have a passion for him.

Jeff Faull serves as minister with Mount Gilead Church, Mooresville, Indiana, and also as a CHRISTIAN STANDARD contributing editor.

By Jeff Faull

Where is the Garden of Eden? Not the actual geographical description. You can read that in Genesis 2. Where is the garden now? What happened to it? Last we knew, it was in Genesis 3. Remember?

Therefore the Lord God sent him out from the garden of Eden, to cultivate the ground from which he was taken. So He drove the man out; and at the east of the garden of Eden He stationed the cherubim and the flaming sword which turned every direction to guard the way to the tree of life (Genesis 3:23, 24, New American Standard Bible).

Where did the garden go? Does it still exist? Was it destroyed in the flood? Where is it now?

Dr. Carlisle Marney always said that his Garden of Eden was at 215 Elm Street in Knoxville, Tennessee. He had stolen money from his mother’s purse, bought some candy, and ate it. He was so ashamed he came back home and hid in the closet till she found him and said, “Why are you hiding? What have you done?” In other words, he remembers the exact place he first consciously rebelled against God and disobeyed his will.

For me it was 301 Redpath Avenue in Michigan City, Indiana. That is where I first remember consciously choosing to ignore God’s instruction. Where was it for you? Can you remember the first time you intentionally failed to do what God asked? Can you point to the Garden Moment in your life?

But more importantly, do you know where God forgave your sin? On a hill called Golgotha, after his agonizing prayer in another garden called Gethsemane, Jesus poured out his life for us.

His sacrifice made the restoration of all that we lost in Eden, and even more, possible. Today we remember and we partake with understanding and gratitude for God’s incredible provision and grace.

Jeff Faull serves as minister with Mount Gilead Church, Mooresville, Indiana, and also as a CHRISTIAN STANDARD contributing editor.

By Nancy Karpenske

When my family gathers at the dinner table, it is common for the designated prayer person to pray, “Lord, thank you for the hands that prepared this meal.”

Those would be my hands they are talking about. Sometimes fixing dinner has taken hours, chopping, mixing, stirring, grating. Occasionally my hands smell like the onion I chopped, or they are scratched from picking raspberries. But quite often my hands have merely pushed the buttons on the microwave or flipped the switch on the Crock-Pot in order to produce a satisfying meal.

I like to cook and bake. But even if I didn’t, I would fix dinner anyway, because I love my family, and I love sitting down together and sharing a few moments of our day together.

When we gather to celebrate Communion, it is a family mealtime. And we can pray that same prayer, “Lord, thank you for the hands that prepared this meal.” And while we would be referring to the people who carefully prepare the trays and fill the cups every week, the more important hands involved in this meal are the hands of Jesus. His hands were pierced with nails as he died to pay the price for our sins.

Jesus asked us to remember his body by eating this bread and to think of his blood as we drink this juice. Jesus allowed his hands to be pierced, his life to be given, because he loves us and he desires more than anything for us to eat with him, and not just this weekly remembrance; he wants us to live with him forever and sit at the Father’s table as his beloved children.

Lord, we thank you for the hands of Jesus, who lovingly prepared this meal for us by giving up his life. And Lord, we eat and drink in faith that some day we will feast at your table with never-ending celebration.

Nancy Karpenske serves with the staff of LifeBridge Christian Church, Longmont, Colorado.

Nancy Karpenske

Have you ever suddenly been awakened in the middle of the night? You lay in bed, wondering what woke you. About 30 seconds later you have almost fallen back to sleep when it happens again. Your smoke alarm emits that tiny chirping sound. Oh, it’s not detecting smoke—that noise is loud and blaring. Instead, the annoying little chirp is warning you that the battery is losing its power.

Wouldn’t it be great if your spiritual life gave you a little warning chirp when your spiritual batteries are losing power? Wouldn’t it be great if you could be just as sensitive to the whisper of the Holy Spirit as your ears are to that little chirp from the smoke detector?

One important resource for recharging your spiritual batteries is this weekly appointment at the Lord’s table. The Communion meal is a time and a way to renew your spiritual strength. The bread and the juice are not packed with vitamins like an energy bar or a power drink. Although the meal is made of the simplest foods, they are costly. Jesus sacrificed his life so you can eat this meal with him.

The recharging and renewing comes not from what you are eating, but from the one who comes to the meal with you. Picture yourself sitting across the table from Jesus. He provided the meal. He is pleased to join you. When you are face-to-face with him, you are reminded of the great exchange: his purity for your sins, his strength for your weakness, and his peace for your turmoil.

He is able to keep you from falling, and to present you before his glorious presence, without fault and with great joy (Jude 24). That is enough to recharge you for another week.

As you eat and drink, savor his presence. Rejoice that he sees you as faultless. May your time with him today recharge you. May you be filled with joy as you realize that he invited you, he prepared for you, and he welcomes you to join him.

Nancy Karpenske serves with the staff of LifeBridge Christian Church, Longmont, Colorado.

By Nancy Karpenske

William E. Barrett’s novel The Shape of Illusion tells a story about a painting. The scene depicted on the canvas is Pilate’s courtyard. Jesus is there, beaten and bloodied. He is surrounded by the angry mob screaming insults and throwing rocks.

This fictional painting is no ordinary work of art. It seems that everyone who looks at it finds his or her own face in the raging crowd. Saints, sinners, priests, paupers: all instantly see themselves acting despicably in the gruesome scene.

How would you respond if you saw your own likeness in that setting? What if you found your face as a willing participant in the mob shouting, “Crucify him!”? Some who view the painting react in hurt or anger, even terror. Others are haunted by overwhelming guilt. Over the centuries the painting destroys lives and ruins friendships.

In the story two men are discussing the painting. Why does this painting have such an impact? Because the painting brings each person face-to-face with his own guilt. He must deal with the reality that he could have acted in such a way. Each man must face this fact alone.

That’s where the story misses the point. Jesus, the guiltless Son of God, endured humiliation, pain, and torture so that none of us must ever face our own personal guilt alone.

The painting doesn’t exist. It’s just a story. James 1:24 describes the Bible as a mirror. When we read it, we can see ourselves in our true condition: guilty. But that’s where grace comes in. Romans 5:8 says, “God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

The Communion service is our painting. When we touch and taste and handle the emblems representing Jesus’ body and blood, we are both admitting our own guilt and testifying to our faith. We believe that through Jesus’ death and resurrection, we can live without guilt, without fear. As you wait for the emblems to be passed to you, consider Romans 8:1: “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”

Nancy Karpenske serves with the staff of LifeBridge Christian Church, Longmont, Colorado.

By Nancy Karpenske

One little typing error. Instead of Communion meditation, if you hit one wrong key, you type Communion medication. Medication: a substance used to treat, to heal, or cure a disease. Meditation: a process used to focus one’s thought on a particular idea. Communion is a time where we stop to meditate, to focus our thoughts.

The Communion emblems, the bread and the juice, are not medicines. Consuming them doesn’t heal you. They do, however, have a therapeutic effect. Touching and tasting the bread and the juice provide a visible reminder to refocus our minds and hearts past the emblems to what they represent: the body and blood of Jesus, our Great Physician, our Healer, our Savior.

We are all contaminated. We are all infected with sin. The prognosis would be terminal, no cure. But 1 Peter 2:24 says Jesus bore our sins in his body on the cross, so that by his wounds we have been healed. The act that caused Jesus such terrible suffering is the same act that saves us from our terminal condition.

In dictionaries, the word remedy is followed immediately by remember. Communion is a time designed by God himself so we who were once desperately ill with the sickness of sin can remember that the remedy for our sin problem is already prescribed for us. We don’t need to search for just the right medicine. We don’t need to experiment to see what will get results. The Great Physician has chosen the best treatment available. The price is very high—insurance companies would never agree to cover it—but no need to worry. The Doctor has donated his services.

“Heal me, O Lord, and I will be healed” (Jeremiah 17:14). As you receive the emblems, remember the remedy for your sin sickness. Look into the face of your Doctor and thank him for his personal investment in your cure.

Nancy Karpenske serves with the staff of LifeBridge Christian Church, Longmont, Colorado.