A Promise as Physical as a Bullet
My first week of internship at St. John’s Pimlico was rough. Someone
took a crowbar and bent open my mailbox and took all my remaining things I’d
shipped to myself from Seminary. I was mugged at knife point in front of my
apartment. Finally, I witnessed a shooting.
As you might imagine, by that first Sunday I was shook! We worshipped
together, and we reached the point of the service where I came up to receive
Holy Communion. Pastor Gregg said the words, “The body of Christ, for you! The
blood of Christ, for you!” And in receiving that wafer and wine, I finally
understood what no Confessions class could teach—the existential nature of the
physicality of the sacraments.
I needed a promise of God’s goodness as physical as all those signs of
dread and death that permeate this world. I needed a promise that I could
consume, a promise that gave a little warmth to the body going down. I needed
God’s love for the world to be as physical as a crowbar, a knife, a bullet. And
thanks be to God the Lord’s Table delivers!
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