Cupped Hands

As usually happens, I had a profoundly moving experience while I was cloistered at the Academy for Spiritual Formation. In that place I am allowed to participate in worship rather than lead it. For that week, I am part of the congregation. At that time I receive, rather than give, communion.

The soft music was playing in the background. People were singing quietly to the reflective songs being played. I had heard a moving sermon and was now, myself, moving toward the altar: the table of grace. As others preceding me in the line to receive were served, I cupped my hands in order to receive the bread.

I looked at my hands and knew that I was a beggar with nothing to offer the One doling out the bread. As I moved forward, my cupped hands pled for mercy, for a crumb of blessing that I didn’t deserve. As I reached those offering the elements of communion I heard the words; “This is the body of Christ broken for YOU.” (Emphasis added.) My cupped hands didn’t just receive a crumb, but a piece, a mouthful. I then went on and was treated to the cup of Jesus’ blood poured out for the forgiveness of MY sins. (Emphasis added again.)

I couldn’t shake the idea of God’s Extravagant Generosity given to me, an undeserving sinner. I was overwhelmed with humility. Then another picture stuck in my mind. It was a picture of starving children with hands cupped just like mine. Only for them the bread they were to receive was more than a church ritual. It was a chance to survive another day.
As we receive the mercy and grace of God’s Extravagant Generosity let us cup our hands