The Body of Christ in My Teeth

I have celebrated the Lord’s Supper in many different places and ways.  I have taken it with tiny crackers & grape juice served in tiny cups on a giant silver serving plate, and with homemade bread and a communal cup.  I have used bread, tiny crackers,pita bread, a giant cracker, and even a tortilla. I have wrapped my long fingers around that tiny, little cup  and waited till everyone was served and have broken the bread myself and dipped it in a communal cup.  I have been in churches that taught that only a man could administer the Lord’s Supper and been in other fellowships that gave me the honor of sharing the Lord’s Table with my fellow Christians.  I have shared Communion with fellow believers in no less than 12 different churches where some called it Communion, some called it The Lord’s Supper, others the Sharing of the Bread & Cup.  Through it all I have found that no matter the name on the building and the form that it takes that it is a sacred and holy moment. A moment designed by my Master to cause me to pause, to think, to reflect.  It invariably causes me to put aside myself and concentrate on Jesus and the sacrifice He made.


But lately…….lately I have been struggling.  It’s  crazy, I know, but the cracker keeps getting stuck in my teeth and I have no idea how to respectfully remove it. How do I pick the Body of Christ out of my teeth?  So I sit!  I sit through the remainder of the service feeling awkward and slightly disrespectful for even being in this situation and wondering how to keep this from happening again.  Despite all of my frustration, every Wednesday I find myself sitting in the sanctuary wondering the same thing….How do I get this cracker out of my teeth and retain my dignity?  That is, until a couple of weeks ago.  Yes, a couple of weeks ago a crazy idea popped in my head:  The Lord’s Supper SHOULD be a little awkward.  Sometimes it is impossible to be confronted with my sin and His sacrifice and remain composed and refined.  Being a Christian is all about being real and sometimes being real is messy.  I SHOULD sit every week and wonder why the broken “body of Christ” is in my mouth.  I should pick through the images in my head that remind me why His body was broken.  His sacrifice should stick with me and leave me with a little bit of undignified awkwardness.

So, next Wednesday, I invite you to join me in a few awkward moments at the Lord’s Table.



3 thoughts on “The Body of Christ in My Teeth

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