Deceptive Reality

Communion looks like nothing. In non-liturgical services
it’s often crackers and juice, served on utility tables. The glitter and
glamour of the world, however, looks like the kingdom come. The world’s silk
and linen, finely-sanded walnut, and winter cruises to warm places can seem to
be the epitome of a good life. A brochure of a Bermuda cruise makes it feel like heaven.

Looking more closely at the elements of communion, though,
exposes Kingdom treasure. “This is my body,” Jesus said, on the night Judas
kissed him. “This is my blood, poured out for all,” Jesus said, knowing the
bloody encounter the kiss would set in motion. By that bloody body, Jesus opened
a door that Adam and Eve had slammed shut. Now Jesus stands at that door, a
golden light glowing behind him. He welcomes all who approach: “Come, my
friend, the Kingdom awaits.” Jesus presides over a Kingdom that begins in pain
but will end in peace and joy.

 
My husband and I went on a  Bermuda cruise
in 1993. The image on the front of the brochure showed a woman in a flowing
gown with a tuxedoed man, embracing at the rail as the moon’s golden light
shone on the water. Truly, it looked like heaven. But, when Jerry and I,
dressed in our elegant clothing, gazed at the moonshine on the water one night,
I thought, “This is pleasant, but it’s not heaven.”

And yet, God displayed his power in the midst of that trip.
One day, I was ascending the stairs at the English linen shop. Inhaling the
lavender scent, I thought, “I am completely relaxed. I am fully present to this
one golden moment that God has given me.” I returned from that trip determined
to seek his Kingdom peace more earnestly. The Kingdom wasn’t in the glamour of
the Dreamward, Norwegian’s new boat, nor was it in the opals that sparkled in Bermuda’s
jewelry stores. The real Kingdom, procured by Jesus’ blood, brings God’s peace.
May we all seek that peace in the midst of the world’s glittery deceptions.