In Remembrance of Me

"From now on this is my body, broken for you."

I took the centimeter-long bread wafer between my index finger and thumb. Usually I like to rub it for a few seconds and feel the dust melt into my skin while I remember what Jesus has paid for me. Then, as the pastor signals us to eat it, I always have hesitated to bring it to my mouth, for just a moment, feeling reluctant to acknowledge my part in crucifying him as He foresaw the need for that because of me.

But today was unlike every other sacrament, when as I began to absorb the dusty halo of the wafer in my fingertips, it fractured.

I stopped.

I didn't want to drop it or lose some of it. But, there it was, lying intact, just cloven down from one side to the other. I felt a pang in my heart and tears welled up in my eyes, having to actually see what I had always done in my mouth. And immediately I remembered the simple words:

"Broken for you, so that you would be whole."

Did you see my week LORD, I wondered? Had He noticed that I had plumbed further depths of iniquity even just last night?

Yes: He was vulnerable to brake so that now as I was here, broken, I might be delivered into innocence.

Out of thankfulness I made a pledge to do what I could this week to not ignore the gift of deliverance, to live in memory of the wholeness that had been imparted to me.