An Unusual Communion

To say the very least, the experience of those of us who worshipped at Grace Christian Fellowship today was, well, how can I describe it—different but wonderfully different. Per my usual modus operandi, I arrived earlier than everyone else to carry out my usual activities—turn on the heat and lights, check my email, prepare the communion table, and spend a while meditating on the morning’s message. As I walked into the kitchen to prepare the communion table, the Lord spoke to me and told me to do something so unique, that I wondered for a moment if I were not imagining things. This is what He said (I can say that with confidence now because I have seen the fruit of it): Do not put any wine into the cups and do not put any bread on the plates; instead, take empty trays to the table. (Now can you see why I thought I was imagining things?)
Anyway, I put both hands on the countertop (sort of propping myself up and looking toward my feet) and asked, “Lord, was that You? If I follow through with this, what in the wide-world will I tell the folk who come to worship, who come to celebrate the Eucharist? What about the visitors who might come; they will miss communion altogether, and have no clue as to what is happening. His response was clear: “Will you trust Me?”
Well, what do you tell the Sovereign God of the Universe, when He asks you that question? My response was clear and concise: “I will but I am scared to death.” Honestly, I had no idea what He was doing, other than making me nervous! I did, however, what I usually do when I sense that He is telling me to do something so weird; I shut every question out, looked neither to the left nor to the right, and marched forward. Have you ever tripped over a pothole and before your knees hit the ground found yourself looking around to see just who was watching? That is kinda’ how I felt, as I proceeded to the communion table with two wine trays filled with empty cups, and two bread trays, absent the bread! (I well-remember looking back, kinda’ like Lot’s wife looked back I think, and wondering what kind of “mess” I was about to create and witness right before my eyes.)
I really do love the way He encourages us on, once we take the initial step of obedience, especially when the initial step is kinda’ like jumping off the deck of a cruise ship in the middle of the ocean, or better yet, like jumping out of an airplane into the middle of the jungle, the part of the jungle where the cannibals live. Anyway, He did nudge (encourage) me to obey with this: Mac, surely you don’t want to miss seeing my Sovereign hand at work because you are afraid of making a mess! You do remember that I specialize in cleaning up “messes!” I swallowed hard and got the point!
Then He let up a little on me and said this: Now, bring one small piece of bread and a little bit of wine to the table. WOW! That made me feel better; at least, there would be something on the table. Well, by this time, people had begun to gather, so I got busy trying to greet them, while also (I must admit) keeping a watchful eye on those who passed by the table. (I am certain that some of them wondered if I was running late with preparing the table, or had I, simply, forgotten.) It wasn’t long before David was ready to begin the worship service and, as I walked to the front to speak to him, the passage I would read to open the service became evident—Habbakuk 3:17-19 (the “though the fig tree should not blossom” text)—and then I began to see a bit more clearly what He was up to!
As David led in worship, the Holy Spirit brought these two passages to my mind—the story of the widow, who because her late husband had left her with more debt than she could pay and, consequently, the creditor was on his way to take her two sons to work for him until the debt was paid, which of course, would prove to be forever, encountered Elisha (2 Kings 4); and the story of the widow, who because of a famine, was about to eat her last meal with her young son and die, encountered Elijah (1 Kings 17). If you are familiar with these stories, you know that God took the “basically nothing” that these two widows had to contribute to their respective situations and made it more than enough to meet their needs—forever! (If you aren’t familiar with these stories, please read them and spend some time with them; otherwise, I might have wasted all this time writing.)
Anyway, by this time, David had finished leading worship, so I came to the communion table to share the two aforementioned stories, hoping I was cooperating with what the Holy Spirit had in mind, but really for the most part still clueless. After my explanation, we took our usual “fellowship” and “potty” break.
The message was from 1 Corinthians 4:16, with emphasis on the part of verse six that says, “. . . learn not to exceed what is written . . .” Can you even imagine what it is like to attempt to preach, while being sooooo aware that there is only one small piece of bread and a very little wine on the communion table (certainly, not almost enough for everyone!) AND you are the one who is responsible for opening this table for your flock; (If you cannot imagine, try; it will do you good!).
Well, THANKFULLY, my mind can still think about more than one thing at the time (well, sometimes) and I was able, while preaching, to be reminded of the story of Jesus’ feeding the 5,000 (plus women and children) AND to relate that story to what was in front of me. As a result, I knew that we were about to be privileged to witness a miracle, or I was about to look like a fool. (I think for the first time in my life, I related to the twelve, when Jesus told them to feed the 5,000, when at first they thought they had nothing but soon learned that that had the grand total of 5 loaves and 2 pieces of fish ( a young lad’s long-since soggy lunch).  Their question was much like mine: “What are these among so many?”
I have always loved that story because Jesus let the twelve participate in what He was doing; it was a kind of “show and tell” experience, and I especially like the part where the little boy got to provide the “stuff” for the buffet, AND I really like the part after the party; you know, the part where so much was left over. Shucks, every disciple got a take-out carton and had food for lunch the next day!
This might be why I love the stories of the two widows—Jesus let them get in on what He was doing (yes, I said Jesus on purpose!); you know, provide the “nothing except stuff” for the grand buffets!
Well, I do want you to know this: I received a small portion of the elements and offered the rest to the congregation, asking them to share with another, rather than to eat and drink for themselves. Would you believe that when all was said and done—tears and love flowing all over everyone—there were leftovers (both wine and bread)!
You know, it really is better to risk making a mess than to miss-out on what He is doing because you are afraid you might make a mess.
I just thought I would tell you about our incredible day; besides, I think He wants you to know AND I also think he wants you (and me) to learn to trust Him, even when doing so makes no sense at all!