By Amanda Petersen
Holidays have been interesting for me the past year and a half. I have been away from home, traveling across states and continents, being absent of anything familiar. I have had most ideas of tradition in my life destroyed, and it has been wonderful. Through it all, I have been forced to realize deeper meanings behind birthdays and Hallmark holidays, and even Christmas.
I am currently staying in a place 2,600 miles from where I grew up, and I had a friend visiting me from my hometown over Easter weekend. On Great Saturday, Carrie and I decided that we wanted to share communion together for Easter since we didn’t have plans to attend any church services or special dinners. We bought a beautiful loaf of sourdough bread and some white grape juice, said a prayer for nice weather, and tried to clear any expectations of what the experience would be. Sunday morning was crisp and blue and we headed to the shore of Lake Lanier.
As Carrie and Iate and drank the bread and juice, we talked for several hours about our hearts and what God has been doing in them. We talked about how there is no law governing us when it comes to love and peace and joy. We confessed how we both are so quick to judge and respond in cynicism. I shared with her many of my doubts and questions and frustrations that I am so good at keeping inside. We shared stories that exemplify grace – how Christ works despite us and is never ashamed of us, but is only in love with his children. We paused to take photographs of the lake and ourselves and the wind.
I laid back and closed my eyes and heard God say, ” This is what it means to remember me. This is communion.” Carrie turned to me and told me that she never wanted to go back to doing communion alone, and I echoed her feeling. We talked some more – about how the bread is meant to sustain us and not make us hungrier at church, but it seems corporately we’ve cornered ourselves by not having church services include communal communion. We spoke about different experiences we have had with communion in the different churches we have been to, and how most of them have disheartened us; left us wanting more.
But we became full, both on the physical bread and the spiritual remembrance.
Indeed, He is risen.
Amanda Petersen , of Portland, OR, is an editor for Wrecked, with a passion for photography, writing, reading, and love.