During the wedding, we had communion. Also known as the Eucharist, communion is basically a Catholic tradition of fulfillment of the instructions given in Corinthians 11:24-25. During the Last Supper, Jesus gave his disciples pieces of bread while saying, "this is my body." He also passed around a cup, telling the disciples that "this is my blood."
The word "Eucharist" has its roots in the Greek word "Eucharistia" which roughly translates to thanksgiving. Eucharist is generally viewed as a sacrament by Catholics and as an ordinance by Protestants.
With that aside, I remember once while participating in the sacrament of communion (Catholic Church), I dropped the piece of bread on the floor. I was absolutely mortified -- I had dropped Jesus. Remembering the ubiquitous "five second rule," I realized if I acted quickly enough, I could save that piece of Jesus and still eat it without getting sick. As I reached down to pick it up, the father said, "No!" Why? It was only two or three seconds at most. A piece of Jesus was laying on the floor next to me. It was a perfect moment to symbolize that, yes, Jesus could rise again -- right into my mouth.
The father picked up that particular piece of Jesus and shoved another piece directly into my mouth. It was so unexpected that I started gagging and choking. Would a piece of Jesus now kill me? I didn't have time to react by chewing, I merely swallowed that piece of Jesus whole and grabbed the cup from the father and downed the entire thing.
If I was going to fuck up communion, I was going to do it in style.
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3 comments:
I'm so glad Jesus didn't kill you.
Me, too. Thanks for commenting (for once) ;)
I comment all the time. You just don't answer me. Do you get your comments emailed to you? Maybe that would help.
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