I've always thought it peculiar and mysterious, the act of communion. Most denominations and various Christian traditions practice communion; drinking wine and bread as a holy sacrament to replicate and remember what Jesus did for us.
Recently, my little family went to the mountains. It was my first visit to my father-in-law's house that he purchased right before he passed away this summer. I asked my husband why he bought this house, settled in between biking trails and waterfalls right before he passed away, with no ability to go on them. He said it was his favorite place to be, in the solitude of brushy woods and trees... and he said, "I think it was for us to enjoy, even though he couldn't."
We arrived to the little house, and the views from the porch were literally breath-taking. As the fog rolled in I felt like I was sitting in the clouds. It was a semi-peaceful trip, and we (Josh and I) were trying to be as peaceful as we could given that we haven't been able to find that peace at home, and Isabel is in a very toddler-y stage.
We woke up and walked the nearby town where the Hendersonville Bakery awaited us with so many delicious treats. As I was drooling over the homemade breads and pastries my husband said, "Those were my dad's favorite," pointing to the donuts.
So we bought a box of hand selected goods and went on the trails walking miles into the deep in search of a waterfall. We didn't speak much that weekend, and most the attention was trying to keep Isabel from losing her mind. But as we walked through the woods and jumped rocks to the waterfall I couldn't help but think of John.
After our picnic, that my husband so thoughtfully prepared: turkey, brie and cucumber sandwiches... I wrapped myself in a blanket with the child and man inside, sitting on the porch overlooking the cloudy mountain towns and ate the raspberry cream pastry and drank juice in a wine glass (the only beverage we had)... in that moment I thought, "do this in remembrance of me."
I later looked up that story online because I haven't read my real bible in...... I don't even know where it is. But I noticed it says that all Jesus' friends were reclining at the table after their amazing supper together, hanging out etc... and it was in this moment, that Jesus told them to remember him. In the moment of satisfaction, after a good meal, stories and laughs- this was the place they were taught to remember.
So as I enjoyed the cream mixed with the stretched doughy cruller topped with a dust of sugar crystals, watching the fog drift back in for the evening, I settled in my chair, thinking of communion and as I ate the delicious treat and reveled in the adventures of the day, I remembered John.