Paid in Full

Today is Maundy Thursday. The day Christians remember the last supper of Jesus and his disciples. His anguished prayers in the garden of Gethsemane, the kiss of his betrayer and the beginning of the horrors that followed. It was the beginning of the end of his redemptive mission on earth. 

Tonight we had a communion service at my church. It was a solemn service. Subdued and rightly so. In remembering what Jesus was going through that last night with his disciples, it's not a time of joyful fanfare. His soul was in turmoil as he broke the bread and shared the cup at that last Passover meal. Indeed, as he agonized in prayer at the garden, he was bereft of the support of his closest companions who could not even stay awake for him. And Peter, who would rashly draw his sword and cut off a servant's ear when the soldiers came, would just as quickly deny knowing him three times before the night was over. All the disciples would be scattered in fear, except for John, who remained at crucifixion.

At our church service we were each given a small piece of paper and instructed to spend a quiet moment reflecting and to write down a sin or sins we were dealing with. There was a wooden cross at the front of the church sanctuary. One by one, we went forward, pinned our sins onto the cross and received communion, the physical manifestation of God's grace in holy sacrament. 

 I did not partake of the bread and juice right there, I took them back to my pew, which is my way of doing it if I am able. Communion is not something I take lightly. It's the presence of God in a tangible way. When I take communion, I know God has spoken to me, that my sins are forgiven. If I truly am settled and  not rushed through the process, I can feel him sitting next to me, just as I did tonight. When I got back to my pew, I bowed my head and began to weep. All I could think was, "You died for me." In the darkened sanctuary, in the stillness with the gentle music, I met once again with my Redeemer. I partook of the communion with him, and I knew I was forgiven. 

There really are no words able to express how great the love God has for us. We are unable to comprehend the depth, the height, the length and breadth of his vast and endless love and grace. Paul told the Ephesians he prayed they would be able to do just that. I need that prayer. We all do. 

In Isaiah 53, the suffering servant is Jesus. and the prophecy graphically depicted his sufferings. "He was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed." (verse 5)  I have been reading that chapter daily for the past month and will read it for the last time tomorrow on Good Friday. I have personalized it and maybe that is why I was so moved tonight at the service. I don't know. But this I do know, Christ came, he lived among us, did miracles and taught with authority. He was crucified for the sins of the world, descended into hell and on the third day rose again from the dead. He's paid it all. No more is required. Let that enter your hearts and minds as you consider the overarching love of God. Nothing can ever separate you from him now.