Book Review: The Sacred Meal

Although I've taken communion just about every Sunday for the past twenty-plus years, I confess that many times I've taken it without giving it much thought. Growing up in churches where, traditionally, one received communion silently while staring at the back of the head of the person in front of you, there didn't seem to be a lot of communing going on. Sometimes this sacred act can actually seem mundane. That is not how it is meant to be.

That's why I was eager to read Nora Gallagher's book, The Sacred Meal. Gallagher examines this ancient ritual from a modern perspective, shedding light on what the eucharist means not only to the church as a whole but to Gallagher personally. She includes many anecdotes--some amusing, some touching, some bittersweet--from her experiences with communion. More than just about eating and drinking, communion is about community with fellow believers. It's about a connection with Christ and a connection with those around us.

For someone like me who has taken communion hundreds of times and yet often struggles to appreciate the sacredness of the practice, this book was eye-opening. It gave me a greater realization of the value of partaking in communion and what it means to be part of the body of Christ.

First Coming

A couple of weeks ago I joined friends for an Advent celebration. I was asked to bring an Advent poem to share with the group, and the following poem is the one I read. As we celebrate the Advent of Christ and anticipate His return, may you rejoice and be encouraged. Merry Christmas!

"First Coming"
by Madeleine L’Engle

He did not wait till the world was ready,
till men and nations were at peace.
He came when the Heavens were unsteady,
and prisoners cried out for release.

He did not wait for the perfect time.
He came when the need was deep and great.
He dined with sinners in all their grime,
turned water into wine. He did not wait

till hearts were pure. In joy he came
to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.
To a world like ours, of anguished shame
he came, and his Light would not go out.

He came to a world which did not mesh,
to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh
the Maker of the stars was born.

We cannot wait till the world is sane
to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share our grief, to touch our pain,
He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!

In Good Hands

With work slowing down a bit this week before Christmas, I took advantage of the downtime today to wade through my work emails and delete as many as I could. I managed to whittle my inbox down from 1,200+ emails to around 300 and deleted another thousand or so sent messages.

While keeping my fingers crossed that I wasn't deleting any crucial emails, I was excited to come across several devotional emails that various friends had sent me over the past couple of years. The following one was one of the favorites that I read today, and I thought I would share it here. There's no telling how many people need to be reminded that we are in God's hands and that He has everything under control.

ISAIAH 63:16 You, O Lord, are our Father; Our Redeemer from Everlasting.

If I am willing to be still in my Master's hand, can I not be still in everything? He's got the whole world in His hands! Never mind whether things come from God Himself or from people--everything comes by His ordination or permission. If I mean to be obedient and submissive to the Lord because He is my Lord, I must not forget that whatever He allows to happen becomes, for me, His will at that moment.
--Elisabeth Elliot (Keep A Quiet Heart)

Do You See What I See?

Most of us, I would venture to guess, do not always like what we see when we look at ourselves in the mirror. It is all too common to immediately begin zeroing in on those features that we don't like or that we think don't measure up to whatever standards we have in our heads. It's not just our physical characteristics that get picked apart; those unseen inner qualities get the harsh review too.

That is why we need friends around us who can show us another, clearer picture. It is a beautiful thing when friends mirror back to us our true selves. Not the selves we think we are--the messed up, selfish, failure-ridden selves that we envision, but our REAL selves. The selves that we are now--the beautiful, creative, generous selves.

And, perhaps even more importantly, they mirror back to us the selves that we could be, the selves that we were created by God to be. True friends point out our potential, even though--get this--they know our flaws. Despite that, they see beauty and splendor in us. There is a real joy in having friends like that who see what we are, quite often, unable to see for ourselves, and who unveil this picture to us.

We all need friends like that. Do you have friends who mirror your true self back to you? And are you being someone else's mirror now?

O Holy Night

At approximately 5:07 p.m. tonight, I finished my Christmas shopping.

(Please don't hate me.)

I still have some homemade gifts to make for select friends and family, but those should be completed over the weekend. With Christmas just over a week away, I'm breathing a sigh of relief that I can avoid wasting half a tank of gas circling the parking lot at Target or Walmart trying to find a parking space, nearly getting mowed down by crazed shoppers driving unwieldy shopping carts, and growing moss while standing in the checkout line.

(Seriously, please don't hate me.)

I don't mean to antagonize any readers who may still be a few gifts shy of completing their shopping lists. It's just that I'm delighted to be finished this early and to be able to truly relax and enjoy this time leading up to Christmas day.

This December has provided me with many wonderful reminders of how special Christmas is. I think my favorite event so far was an Advent celebration hosted by some friends earlier this week. They invited a large group of us over to eat, sing, and reflect on Christ's birth. We also shared our own favorite Christmas memories--many funny, some bittersweet, and a few good blackmail-worthy stories that we were sworn to secrecy on.

We were a diverse group--some married, some single, some older, some younger, some just starting their families, some empty nesters. Although we come from different backgrounds and experiences, we were united in our celebration of Jesus' birth. That time of fellowship was so sweet and special; if we met every week from now on I don't think I'd tire of it. For me it was a little foretaste of Heaven--great food, beautiful singing, awesome fellowship, and Christ at the center of it all.

Whether you're like me and have finished your Christmas shopping or you're just getting started, I hope that you are able to slow down and really experience the true meaning of Christmas. The Christmas story is most glorious when it's shared with others, so don't pass up opportunties that come your way to spend it with family and friends this season.

Breaking the Silence

Our Sunday school class just began a quarter-long study of the book of Exodus. It's not exactly the section of Scripture that typically comes to mind when I think about the Advent season, but this morning I was struck by a parallel between Moses and Jesus' birth that I had not previously considered.

When God approached Moses via the burning bush, it was during a time of suffering for Israel. They had become enslaved in Egypt, and were treated cruelly by the slave drivers. Even worse, Pharaoh, fearing an uprising from the growing Hebrew population, decreed that all male Hebrew babies be thrown into the Nile. Although Moses survived and was actually adopted into Pharaoh's family, he later had to flee Egypt for the wilderness of Midian after killing an Egyptian.

Meanwhile, back in Egypt the Israelites continued to face greater and greater oppression. We discussed in class this morning the range of emotions that the Israelites may have been feeling at that time--abandonment, neglect, fear. I imagine that many of them felt that God was silent, perhaps not giving any thought to their suffering.

On the contrary, God was not silent for long. He had not only heard the Israelites' groaning for deliverance, but He came to rescue them through an unlikely shepherd. As He told Moses in Exodus 3:9-10: "The cries of the people of Israel have reached me, and I have seen how the Egyptians have oppressed them with heavy taks. Now go, for I am sending you to Pharoah. You will lead my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt."

Now, skip ahead to the time of Jesus' birth. Several hundred years lapse between the book of Malachi, ending the Old Testament, and the book of Matthew, the beginning of the New Testament. These have been years of silence from God. Years of oppression for His people. Years of suffering and crying out for deliverance.

Yet again, God chooses an unlikely hero to send as a rescuer--this time, His own Son in the form of a baby. As I thought about the similarities of these stories this morning, the song "Silent Night" sprang to mind. I've always thought of the silence in the song as coming in the wake of Jesus' birth, a peaceful, quiet night. Now, though, I'm thinking that Jesus did not bring silence with Him, but rather broke the silence with His first cries. After many years of silence, God's people were desperate for a word from Him. They longed for some sign of deliverance, some sign that God had not, despite all outward appearances, forgotten His people.

A child's first cry is often music to their parents' ears, and I'm sure that was the case for Joseph and Mary at Jesus' birth. But I wonder if they had a greater sense of the silence that was broken then, and that would forever change the world.

Camp Stew Recipe, Revisited

Most of my blog entries are about spiritual matters, but surprisingly enough one of my most-viewed entries is the recipe I posted a couple of years ago for camp stew. I'm a sucker for just about any recipe with "easy" in the title; throw in "crockpot" as well and I'm sold.

Now, some may argue that it's cheating to use all canned ingredients, but I would argue that you just have to look at the title to figure out that this is a version better suited for someone who may not have a lot of time on their hands but who nevertheless has a craving for some stick-to-your-ribs goodness.

If you can master the art of wielding a can opener, dumping out the contents into a crockpot and turning said crockpot on, then you can handle this recipe. Best of all, because all of the ingredients are canned, you can keep them in the pantry until the mood strikes; I highly recommend making it on a cold, rainy, blustery day. There's nothing like coming home to the scent of camp stew wafting through your house and the joy of knowing that your dinner is already made, woo hoo!

Easy Crockpot Camp Stew

Ingredients:
-1 can crushed tomatoes
-1 can creamed corn
-1 can each of barbecue pork, chicken and beef (I use Castleberry's brand)
-1 can potatoes
-1 can beans (I usually use pinto or ranch beans)

Combine all in crock pot and simmer on low 6-8 hours.

Voila! (See, I told you it was easy.)

For more recipes, visit The Grocery Cart Challenge's recipe swap.

More on Giving Up

I'm nearly finished reading John Eldredge's book, The Journey of Desire. In it, he expresses far more eloquently than I can the thoughts and feelings I've experienced lately in my surrendering certain desires over to God. This passage that I read today fits right in with my post from earlier in the week on giving up a particular desire to Him:

"Spiritual surrender is not resignation. It is not choosing to care no longer. Nor is it Eastern mysticism, an attempt to get beyond the suffering of this life by going completely numb. As my dear friend Jan describes, 'It is surrender with desire, or in desire.' Desire is still present, felt, welcomed even. But the will to secure is made subject to the divine will in an act of abandonment...

"True surrender is not an easy out, calling it quits early in the game. This kind of surrender comes only after the night of wrestling. It comes only after we open our hearts to care deeply. Then we choose to surrender, or give over, our deepest desires to God. And with them we give over our hearts, our deepest selves. The freedom and beauty and rest that follow are among the greatest of all surprises." (The Journey of Desire, pgs. 193 & 194)