Awenydd

Quoted sections are from chapters 66 and 67 of
Justin Martyr’s First Apology, c. AD 150

For not as common bread and common drink do we receive these; but in like manner as Jesus Christ our Saviour, having been made flesh by the Word of God, had both flesh and blood for our salvation, so likewise have we been taught that the food which is blessed by the prayer of His word, and from which our blood and flesh by transmutation are nourished, is the flesh and blood of that Jesus who was made flesh. For the apostles, in the memoirs composed by them, which are called Gospels, have thus delivered unto us what was enjoined upon them; that Jesus took bread, and when He had given thanks, said, “This do ye in remembrance of Me, this is My body;” and that, after the same manner, having taken the cup and given thanks, He said, “This is My blood;” and gave it to them alone . . .

I don’t think I’ve ever talked to anyone about this before, and am not sure what prompts me to write about it now. But . . . here it is:

I was not baptized until age 8 when we joined an OPC congregation. Obviously, neither was I welcomed to the Lord’s Table until after that. Since for almost six years after my 12th birthday family attended a church that required confirmation to gain access to the Table, the first time I took communion I was a teenager. Well, at least officially . . .

The practice of Lord’s Supper always fascinated me. Since the age of two I watched my parents participate in it along with the rest of the adults in church. I took it for granted that it was not for kids.

Once, when we brought an African American boy with us to church as part of some evangelical outreach, he became very excited when the elders began to pass around bread and . . . grape juice.

“Hey,” he said aloud, “they’re giving us food!” I hushed him quickly, tersely explaining to him in a whisper that that was for grown-ups. He didn’t quite get it, and I saw the confused and slightly offended look on his face when the elders passed us by without giving us any. Well, duh, I thought (no, I didn’t actually know the word “duh” yet). It’s not for kids.

But even though I knew it was a grown-up thing, I imagined having a part in it, similar to the way that at the age of 3 I packed a little briefcase (actually the case to a toy medical kit) and pretended I was going to the office with my father one morning. I knew what communion was and what it meant, as much as a three-year-old can understand. The grape juice represented Jesus’ blood and the bread his body. I didn’t really know what that meant (who really does, fully?), but it was something Jesus did, and that meant it was a good thing. To me, a piece of bread together with a cup has been iconic of the Lord’s Supper for as long as I can remember.

Whenever I had grape juice at home, I’d ask for bread too, secretly pretending I was having communion. I remember unsuccessfully trying to pretend once with bread and orange juice, since grape juice was unavailable at that moment. I glibly told my mother that I was having communion, but she told me I shouldn’t pretend that. I conceded, yeah, orange juice was not very authentic.

Our church, Cornerstone Bible Church, where my father was an elder, met in a college classroom. After church service I’d drag my friends into some adjoining classroom and pretend to have another service, pushing a chair to the front of the room so I could climb up onto it and stand behind the podium to speak. Sometimes they humored me.

Early on at Cornerstone, after service my mother would let me have the bread that was left over from communion. Yep, that’s right. The actual bread that had sat in the communion tray and had been consecrated for holy use, as much as that meant to us back then. For my part, I never considered that a normal afternoon snack. There was something special about that bread, even if I couldn’t express exactly what it was. After all, as one can see from the examples above, even though my family had a more or less baptist understanding of the sacraments at the time, I’d been raised with a healthy respect and a deep appreciation for the Lord’s Table, and it sure took. As much as I liked to pretend when I could with bread and grape juice, this was different. This was the real thing.

For whatever reason, I stopped getting the “leftovers” fairly early on, much to my disappointment. But I’ve remembered it to this day, and, at least as far as the church fathers would have seen it, that would have been my first conscious participation in the Eucharistic elements, even if there never seemed to be any leftover grape juice.

And on the day called Sunday, all who live in cities or in the country gather together to one place, and the memoirs of the apostles or the writings of the prophets are read, as long as time permits; then, when the reader has ceased, the president verbally instructs, and exhorts to the imitation of these good things. Then we all rise together and pray, and, as we before said, when our prayer is ended, bread and wine and water are brought, and the president in like manner offers prayers and thanksgivings, according to his ability, and the people assent, saying Amen; and there is a distribution to each, and a participation of that over which thanks have been given, and to those who are absent a portion is sent by the deacons.

At that age, somewhere between 2 and 4, I was like one who had been absent from the table (though I was never absent from the worship service) and was given the elements after the dismissal. Though there certainly was an amount of impropriety about my taking the elements then, since I hadn’t yet been baptized, I took them (or one of them, at least) nonetheless.

It made me feel a part of something bigger. It gave a sense of belonging along with the grown-ups of the church. I suppose if I can put words to the exact feeling it gave me, I’d say it made me feel special. But isn’t that one of the central points of Communion? It’s an expression of unity among and within the body. A meal reserved for the called-out ones.

Can I say that I derived any real spiritual benefit from it? Perhaps, if we acknowledge the objectivity of the sacraments and the real presence of Christ in the Supper when it is presented beside the preaching of the Word.

Even as Eucharist means to give thanks, that is what I do. I’m thankful every day that I was raised in a Christian home where I was always aware of the goodness of God. Where Christ was presented to me in Word and sacrament every single Lord’s Day (well, sacrament was once a month), even if I was not officially welcome to partake of the latter.

The lesson to be learned is simple: Never underestimate how much your little children understand or how even the slightest bit of inclusion in the life of the Church will benefit them, both now and in the future. And don’t discount the messages that exclusion sends them either.

It is said that a child’s most formative time is at about age 3. For the rest of their lives, long after they may have forgotten details or even whole events, that period of growth remains etched in their subconscious.

Children are born to instinctively imitate their parents unless and until they are taught otherwise. If we really want them to imitate us in faith, then why should we, by our actions, teach them not to during their most formative years? If you want your children to follow you in faith, then teach them how to by including them in it. And teach them early.

Psalm 22:9-10
Yet you are he who took me from the womb;
you made me trust you at my mother’s breasts.
On you was I cast from my birth,
and from my mother’s womb you have been my God.

I have been rediscovering an old favorite of mine, the first epic film I can remember watching. And I mean REALLY epic. How The West Was Won was filmed and released in Cinerama format in 1962. I first watched it when it was on TV. It has been years since I last saw it, but I’m eagerly awaiting a completely remastered and restored release later this year. And that one just might push me over to get Blu-Ray . . . just as soon as Sony finalizes the format.

But enough of that. I am rediscovering the film through its magnificent score by Alfred Newman. From the opening titles, the score conveys powerfully, over the course of the film running the emotional gammut of fun, adventure, struggle, loss, grief, and sorrow. It is truly an overlooked classic. It was my first favorite film score, even before I knew what a film score was.

Listening through the score and remembering scenes from the film reminds me of the incredible scope that the film had, tracing the saga of an American family through three generations. While the song featured in the film bears echoes of manifest destiny, I think the film is careful not to stereo-type the struggle between the Native American and the pioneer of the move West, portraying both sides rather fairly, if a little idealistically.

HOW THE WEST WAS WON
Lyrics by Ken Darby

Promised land the land of plenty rich with gold
Here came dreamers with Bible fist and gun
Bound for land across the plains their wagons rolled
Hell bent for leather that’s how the West was won

Stride by stride they tamed the savage prairie land
Nothing stopped them no wind nor rain nor sun
Side by side these pioneers from every land
All pulled together that’s how the West was won

And they sang of the day when they would rest their boots
In a land where the still waters flow
Where the dreams of a man and wife could put down roots
And their love and the seeds of love would grow
(And grow and grow)

Dream by dream they built a nation from this land
Forged in freedom for every mother’s son
Here it is the beautiful the promised land
We won’t forget them and how the West was won

Please sample a few tracks from the score in my player and then go buy the 2-Disc set if you’re impressed with it as I have always been. If you’ve already listened, check the player again. I’ve added a new track.

Some additional notes on the score:

How The West Was Won was awarded an Academy Award for “Best Recording,” which had a great deal to do with how Alfred Newman produced the score. It was apparently one of the first (if not the first) score recorded by close-mic’ing each individual section of the orchestra, which gives the orchestra that sense of presence, increases the scope of the recording, and allows the listener to easily distinguish between the various parts of the orchestra. Since 1962 this recording method has become commonplace for film score recording, it was very innovative at the time.

Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace,
according to thy word; for mine eyes have seen thy Salvation
which thou has prepared before the face of all people.
A Light to lighten the Gentiles and the glory of thy people Israel.

As the congregation sang the words of recession, breaking into the Gloria, and we all raising our arms to heaven, a simply indescribably joy washed over me. I was so happy my voice caught in my throat and I found it difficult to sing. I know it was the same for everyone else there. I saw tears in my mother’s eyes.

Yesterday was the first worship service of Christ Covenant Church of Chicago. It has been a long time in coming, and God has brought our little fellowship through many trials. And finally, He has blessed us with a church we can call home. Our call to worship was especially appropriate, coming from Psalm 66:

Shout for joy to God, all the earth;
sing the glory of his name;
give to him glorious praise!
Say to God, “How awesome are your deeds!
So great is your power
that your enemies come cringing to you.
All the earth worships you
and sings praises to you;
they sing praises to your name.”

Bless our God, O peoples;
let the sound of his praise be heard,
who has kept our soul among the living
and has not let our feet slip.
For you, O God, have tested us;
you have tried us as silver is tried.
You brought us into the net;
you laid a crushing burden on our backs;
you let men ride over our heads;
we went through fire and through water;
yet you have brought us out
to a place of abundance.

Wayne Southerland, who brought us the message from the Word and the prayer for the dedication of the church, together with his family who traveled six hours to worship with us, were such a blessing. It was wonderful to have him here to give us his blessing and the blessing of Cornerstone Reformed Church in Carbondale, which has always been a great encouragement to us.

And now, here we are; this is only the beginning. By God’s grace, our fledgling church will spread its wings and soar, reaching out to the lost and the needy in our community, praising God and breaking bread week by week.

This is what we’ve been waiting for. There will be many more trials and challenges on the way, but we forge on, confident that our hope is not in ourselves or in any human effort, but in God’s promises and his faithfulness to his covenant.

May he keep us faithful in the work to come, that we might go from joy to greater joy.

To those who have been praying for Christ Covenant Fellowship, I thank you all. May God richly bless you, always. You will be in my prayers as well, and in the prayers of our Christ Covenant Church of Chicago.

Visit the Flickr album for pictures of the service and the days before.

Last Sunday we had a Rev. Charles Svoboda preach at our church. He was from the IFCA, he was 87 years old, he was dispensational. He made repeated reference to the “blessed hope” and “glorious appearing” of Christ in a way that clearly referred to the Rapture, and he adamantly maintained that the world is getting worse—a sure sign of the imminent return of Jesus Christ.

Pastor Svoboda came to Christ at Cicero Bible Church in 1941, the same church where my parents’ college pastor Dr. Saxe was converted, and under the ministry of the same man. Providentially, Pastor Saxe’s son Jonathan was visiting us and our church with his family that very Sunday, and were able to meet him. We discovered that not only did Dr. Svoboda know Pastor Saxe, he had spoken to him only a few days before!

Now, I am actually going somewhere with this. Anyone who has read my articles on eschatology knows I don’t agree with the dispensational interpretation of Scripture. But as soon as this man began to speak, it was clear that he was immersed in the Bible. He had memorized these passages of salvation that he was presenting to us, the congregation, and he believed them with all his heart. As soon as he began to speak, even before I knew who he was or where he came from, I was completely at ease with him.

Because even though I may not agree with him or Pastor Saxe or any number of these people in their eschatology, I cannot help but acknowledge and respect whole lives lived for Christ, the love they have for the people of God, and the pure sincerity with which they serve the Lord. Although I continue to examine various passages and attempt to bring deeper and perhaps different meanings to light in the Scripture, I do not despise these people with whom I disagree. How can I? No Christian should despise them for the sake of their theology. They represent collectively many hundreds of years of service to God. We all can learn a lot from that.

Just added Hayley Westenra’s “Both Sides Now” to my blog player (or you can click that link if the player doesn’t work for you). Lovely piece of music with bittersweet lyrics and vivid imagery, sung by an angelic voice. Now what more could you ask for in a song?

Rows and flows of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere
I’ve looked at clouds that way

But now they only block the sun
They rain and snow on everyone
So many things I would have done
Clouds got in my way

I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down, and still somehow
It’s cloud’s illusions I recall
I really don’t know clouds at all

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels
The dizzy dancing way you feel
As every fairy tale comes real
I’ve looked at love that way

But now it’s just another show
You leave ‘em laughing when you go
And if you care, don’t let them know
Don’t give yourself away

I’ve looked at love from both sides now
From give and take, and still somehow
It’s love’s illusions I recall
I really don’t know love at all

Tears and fears and feeling proud
To say “I love you” right out loud
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds
I’ve looked at life that way

But now old friends they’re acting strange
They shake their heads, they say I’ve changed
Well something’s lost but something’s gained
In living every day

I’ve looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It’s life’s illusions I recall
I really don’t know life at all