Chapter by chapter 23

  23. Holy Communion

For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes. 1 Corinthians 11:26 Walking to the front counter, Emet and Hanan were shocked to see that the early arrivals were Yosef, Anna, and Uzziel. “Good morning, friends!” Emet chirped. “What brings you all to the shop so early?” At first, the three customers were all silent. Yosef, Anna, and Uzziel were each just as shocked as Emet and Hanan to find the other two there. They had all hoped for a moment alone with Emet. As they awkwardly exchanged glances, Anna and Uzziel motioned toward Yosef, indicating that he should go first. Yosef smiled in thanks, then turned to Emet. Hanan thought the man looked a bit sheepish as Yosef began, “My dear old friend—I was—” Then, clearing his throat with a small cough, he continued. “I was completely inappropriate yesterday.” Emet’s tense posture softened immediately. “Oh that—it’s really no prob—” Yosef held up his hand firmly but kindly. “No, I must apologize.” Putting down his hand, and looking at the ground, he added, “And I must ask your forgiveness.” Yosef looked over at Anna and Uzziel to explain what he was talking about, “I came here yesterday to purchase some bread, but—” “—but we had just burned a loaf,” Hanan admitted, as Emet agreed with a nod. “Yes,” Yosef agreed, grateful that Hanan had offered that information before he could, “and I judged these two fine bakers harshly for it.” Anna, who was always quick to give others the benefit of the doubt, chimed in, “It seems you judged Emet and Hanan by their actions instead of their intentions, and I’m sure their intentions were good.” “I did, indeed. And yes, I’m sure their intentions were good,” Yosef agreed, “but as I walked from the shop, one of Emet’s remarks began working on my spirit, and I could hardly sleep last night—which is why I’m here so early this morning.” Having not slept well himself, Uzziel looked at Yosef and asked, “What remark of Emet kept you from sleeping?” Yosef cleared his throat again. “God has always been gracious to us—” Then he stopped, surprised by the emotion that seemed to be overtaking him. “—so we do what we can to extend His Grace to others,” Emet finished the sentence, recalling what he’d said the day before. Regaining his composure, Yosef continued, “And then Emet offered me a free loaf of Unleavened Bread, which I refused. How foolish of me.” Doing his best to look each of the others in the eye, he stammered, “You probably know that I’m a man who has a high regard for the Truth.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “I believe in high standards and believe we should—well—that we should adhere to the beauty of the Law.” At this, the others exchanged knowing smiles and nods. Yosef also suppressed a small laugh as he humbly continued. “But that means I can be incredibly harsh to others—to those that I love and even—or perhaps especially—to myself.” Looking at the ground, he muttered, “For many years, I’ve not been good at giving or receiving Grace.” Looking up again and glancing at the others, he quickly clarified, “Now, I’m not talking about an illegal Grace. I don’t mean we should ignore the Truth to extend His Grace.” Turning to Emet, he said, “I’m just learning that His Truth is always accompanied by His Grace, which means I need to give more time and space for everyone to experience His continual transformation.” Pausing for a moment, Yosef concluded by saying to all of them with confidence, “I shall continue to be angry toward sin and any violation of the Truth. But in my anger, I do not need to be judgmental. And I shall communicate my love for Truth with tears of Grace and a heart of compassion—just as our friend Emet does.” Emet nodded as he said, “The same Jesus who spoke harshly to the Pharisees—” “—is the same Jesus that wept over their refusal to humble themselves,” Yosef concluded, a tear forming in his eye. “God freely extends His Grace to you, my brother—and I know He empowers you to extend that same Grace to others—and yourself.” Reaching across the counter, Emet put his hand on Yosef’s shoulder. “I accept your apology, and I’m happy to forgive you.” Yosef put his hand on top of Emet’s and held his gaze for a moment. While no words were spoken, Yosef’s expression clearly communicated his humble and heartfelt thanks. As he turned to leave, Anna said, “Please stay, Yosef. I want you to hear what I have to say.” Yosef turned back and gave a gentle nod to Anna as she began, “I’m here to apologize, too, Emet.” “Whatever for?” asked Emet, having forgotten the unintentional gift of flour he’d given to Anna the day before. Anna began to tear up as she confessed, “I’ve always dismissed the words of the scrolls when they call us to live perfect, holy lives.” As she spoke, Hanan realized Anna was referring to the words of Peter who had written, “As obedient children, do not conform to the evil desires you had when you lived in ignorance. But just as he who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do; for it is written: ‘Be holy, because I am holy.’” “I just assumed these were unrealistic expectations—words for another time, place, and people perhaps—but not for me,” Anna admitted. “So, I naturally gravitated toward the qualities of God that I think everyone enjoys—His love, acceptance, and Grace.” Emet gave a confused smile. “Yes, my dear, but why are you telling us these things so early in the morning?” “It’s just that—” Anna choked on her own words, “—it’s just that I feel I’ve abused your kindness and Grace too many times, Emet.” As she began to reach into her satchel to pull out some coins, Emet recalled the previous day’s happenings, put his hands over hers, and said, “Yesterday morning’s gift of flour was just that—a gift.” “Yes, and I thank you for that, Emet.” Anna resolutely put some coins on the counter. “But yesterday afternoon’s gift—while it was a gift of Grace on your part—was an abuse of Grace on my part.” Emet looked down at the coins, not sure what to do. “Emet, when you turned to speak with Hanan, I intentionally left without paying. And do you know why?” Emet looked up, catching Anna’s eye. “No, my dear. Why?” “It’s not because I assumed you were being kind,” Anna said, looking at the coins on counter. “It’s because I felt I deserved more of your Grace.” Looking at Yosef and Uzziel now, she added, “I even found myself feeling offended at the thought that Emet might actually expect something from me.” Looking back at Emet, she wept with shame. “That second batch of flour wasn’t a gift, Emet. I stole it from you.” Yosef now felt he needed to interject. “You know, Jesus said something that absolutely confounded me for years, but it’s beginning to make more sense even now.” Wiping the tears from her eyes, Anna asked, “What’s that, Yosef?” Knowing that Anna was mostly unfamiliar with the words of Jesus in the scrolls, Yosef decided to summarize by saying, “Well, a group of people—probably not much different from me, to be honest—brought a woman who had just committed a crime to Jesus. I believe they were hoping He would judge her . . . harshly.” “What did Jesus do?” Anna asked. Recognizing the story, Emet answered, “Jesus looked at the crowd and said, ‘Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.’” Anna held her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. “Oh my! Jesus said that?” Now Uzziel spoke up, “Yes, He did.” He added with a grin, “But that meant that everyone left without throwing a stone because everyone had sinned. There was no one left but Jesus.” “Jesus didn’t stone her, did He?” Anna gasped. “Certainly not,” Yosef soothed, “but here’s the part that has confounded me: Jesus turned to the woman and asked her, ‘Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?’ ‘No one, sir,’ she said. ‘Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin.’” “So,” Anna began to say, “in His Grace, Jesus forgave her?” “Yes, but in Truth, He told her to stop sinning,” Yosef replied. Emet couldn’t help but feel wonder and gratitude at what he saw happening. He mused, “So, while Yosef here is confounded that we can receive God’s Grace—” “—I’m confounded by God’s expectation that we can walk in His Truth,” Anna admitted. “But as we walk in the Spirit, we can,” Hanan said, wanting to share some of what his grandad had been teaching him. As the others looked at Hanan, he continued. “Because Jesus is full of both. So, if we’re full of Jesus, we’re full of His Grace and Truth.” The room was silent for a moment until Uzziel spoke up. “Both of which have been seriously lacking in me,” he admitted. Anna looked up and smiled at Uzziel as she dabbed her eyes and sniffed. “Are you here to apologize to our two wonderful bakers too?” Uzziel caught Emet’s eyes as he said, “Yes, I am.” Emet smiled in acceptance of the apology as Uzziel began to say to Yosef and Anna, “I guess you could say—” his voice trailed off as he tried to put his thoughts together, “—well, it just seems that lately I’ve forgotten which Kingdom I belong to.” “I wasn’t expecting you to say that, Uzziel,” Emet said gently. “Please tell us what you mean.” “Apostle Paul once wrote to remind us that our citizenship is in Heaven—not here,” Uzziel began. “And I somehow got that all turned around.” Looking around to the others, he continued. “A few of us my friends and I had the chance to meet with an important official yesterday afternoon.” “Yeah, I’ve been wondering how that went,” Emet said with curiosity. “Thinking I was actually a citizen of this world, I found myself willing to compromise both God’s Truth and Grace,” Uzziel admitted. “I was ready to do anything to appease this so-called powerful individual.” “So,” Emet empathized, “it sounds like it didn’t go too well?” “Do you know what the official said when he met with us?” Uzziel asked as he looked around the room with disgust. The others shrugged as Uzziel shook his head. “The same promises he’s been making all along. But I finally heard these promises for what they really are—empty. And to think that my friends and I actually thought this powerful man wanted to do something for us—when in reality he wanted us to do something for him.” “I’m so sorry,” Emet offered sincerely. Uzziel gave a heavy sigh. “I hate to admit it, but we had hoped that aligning ourselves with this man would be a benefit to God’s purposes and plan.” Locking eyes with Emet, he concluded, “But yesterday, Emet here reminded me that, ‘In this world we will have trouble. But take heart, because Jesus has overcome the world.’” “As I listen to you,” Emet offered, “I gather that your important official enticed you with a Truth and Grace that really weren’t Truth and Grace at all.” “Exactly, my friend,” Uzziel said regretfully. “And as I embraced his so-called Truth and Grace, I extended neither of them to you. And for that, I am truly sorry.” The room fell quiet again for a few moments until Emet broke the silence by saying, “I’m deeply touched by your apologies—each of you—and I gladly forgive you all.” Unnoticed by the others, Hanan had walked to the back of the shop to retrieve a skin of wine along with the bread he and Emet had baked earlier. As he returned, he offered, “We have some freshly baked Unleavened Bread.” Emet looked at each of his guests with a welcoming smile and asked, “Would you like to break bread with us?” Yosef, Anna, and Uzziel exchanged uncertain glances with one another. Emet motioned to the back of the shop and encouraged, “Please, come. Let’s sit and break bread together.” Hanan quickly grabbed three more stools from the back of the shop and set them near the workbench. As the five sat down, Emet hastily poured the wine into a clay cup and placed it on the workbench—a few crimson drops spilling onto the perpendicular scratched lines. He started by saying with a smile, “Since I’m a baker,”—he tapped lightly on his forehead—“I have a habit of putting a little Truth in this dough of mine.” The others seemed to relax a bit as Emet quoted Apostle Paul. “For I received from the Lord what I also passed on to you: The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me.’” Hanan handed the Unleavened Bread to Emet who was now looking Yosef in the eye. “You’ve been consuming the Bread of Legalism for far too long, old friend.” Yosef nodded his solemn agreement. “But Jesus wants to steal that bread from you,” Hanan interjected. Emet cast a brief, playful glance at Hanan. Breaking a piece from the Unleavened Bread, he continued to address Yosef. “But Jesus offers you the Bread of Life—full of Truth and Grace—if you’ll surrender your bread and receive His.” At this, Yosef heaved a deep sigh of relief. He reached out with cupped hands and repented. “My Bread of Legalism has been crushing me, Emet. I need Jesus’s Bread of Life more than anything.” Emet placed the bread into Yosef’s hands, who then closed his eyes and began to pray silently. Emet tore off another chunk of the bread. Turning to Anna, Emet said softly, “And you, my dear, have been enjoying the subtle sweetness of the Bread of License.” “And it’s been making me fat with arrogant pride and an entitled attitude,” Anna laughed, wiping away another tear. Hanan chimed in again, patting her on the shoulder. “Jesus will steal that bread from you too, Miss Anna.” “If you’re willing,” Emet shook his head and smiled, “Jesus offers you the Bread of Life—full of Grace and Truth—if you’ll surrender your bread and receive His.” Sounding just as relieved as Yosef, Anna cupped her small hands in repentance and said, “The Bread of License has left me feeling empty. I need what Jesus offers in His Bread of Life.” As she closed her eyes in silent prayer, Emet placed a piece of bread into her open hands. “And you, friend,” Emet said, now looking at Uzziel, “you’ve been duped and deceived by the Bread of Lawlessness.” “And I want Jesus to steal my bread right now,” Uzziel said as he cast a knowing grin at Hanan. “If you’re willing,” Emet said with a stifled laugh and a twinkle in his eyes, “Jesus also offers you His Bread of Life—full of both Grace and Truth—if you’ll surrender your bread and receive His.” “My Bread of Lawlessness has left me feeling cold, alone, and desperate,” Uzziel began. “If Jesus will have it, He can take it from me.” Cupping his massive hands as an act of repentance and closing his eyes to pray along with the others, Uzziel received the bread from Emet. Emet tore the last of the bread in two, giving half to Hanan and keeping the other half for himself. Looking Hanan in the eye, he admonished, “My son, remember my words. The Lord Jesus Christ is the Bread of Life. Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, yet they died. But here is the Bread that comes down from Heaven, which anyone may eat and not die. Jesus is that Living Bread, and whoever eats this bread will live forever.” “Yes, sir,” said Hanan as he accepted the bread. “I will never forget.” Emet smiled, then said, “My friends.” As he said this, Yosef, Anna, and Uzziel each looked up, their faces glowing with life. “Now that you’ve spent a few moments in repentance and careful self-examination, let us eat the bread together.” Emet gave thanks for the bread, and the five ate together. As he finished his portion, Yosef thought of another phrase from Apostle Paul’s letters. Looking at Emet, he quoted, “Is not the cup of thanksgiving for which we give thanks a participation in the blood of Christ?” Uzziel recognized the reference and continued the quote, “And is not the bread that we break a participation in the body of Christ?” Recalling the words shared often at their fellowship gatherings, Anna concluded, “Because there is one loaf, we, who are many, are one body, for we all share the one loaf.” “Well said, friends. Well said.” Looking at each one in turn, Emet concluded the quote he had begun their meal with. “In the same way, after supper Jesus took the cup, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me. For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.’” Holding the cup high, Emet gave thanks, took a drink, and let the cup be passed around the room so each person could drink in turn. Once everyone had drunk the wine, Emet began, “My friends, never forget that this is the day—” Hanan smiled, winked at Grandpa Emet, and said, “—when Jesus stole our bread.” Emet winked back and chuckled. As he did, the first light of sunrise peeked through the window coverings of the bakery, warming the five friends and illuminating bits of flour that danced in the air of the small shop. As the morning rays stretched toward the wooden workbench—now scratched with two perpendicular, crimson-stained lines resembling a cross—they illuminated a lasting reminder of the perfect Truth and Grace found in Jesus.