[Each day of Holy Week, I am going to publish a communion meditation that I wrote and delivered, while serving as an Elder, over the past seven years where I worship at Northwood Christian Church, in Springfield, Oregon.]
The ancient Hebrews knew that God had promised to send His Messiah.
Everyday when they woke up, it was with the expectation that today might be the day the Messiah would appear. But when he came, they missed him.
They scoured the scriptures for prophesies of the Messiah; they taught and preached incessantly about his coming. But when he came, they missed him.
Over the centuries, their culture and religion became more convinced, more focused on the coming of the Messiah and all that he might be and do. But when he came, they missed him.
I can take no satisfaction in that, however. I know I am no smarter, more insightful or devout than they were. Perhaps I would have missed his coming, too.
But come, he did.
For three years he taught in their midst, challenging their expectations, their interpretations of scripture, the very foundation of their belief in the Lord God. And some saw the light shining in the darkness and understood he had come.
On one night, locked in an Upper Room, he told his gathered followers that the bread that he blessed and broke represented his body broken for them, and that the wine that he blessed was to represent his blood shed for the forgiveness of their sins. And some saw the light shining in the darkness and understood he had come.
On one day they nailed him to a Roman cross, some certain this one man was not the Messiah, others terrified that he might be. Yet, some saw the light shining in the darkness and understood he had come. And in that I can take satisfaction!
Veni, veni, Emmanuel. O come, O come, Emmanuel.
December 3, 2006