Remembrance At The Table
There are days I feel like I forget more than I remember. My schedule gets packed so full and I get going so fast that I forget . . . to grab the dry cleaning, pay a bill, email a friend, brush my teeth! I can’t see the forest for the trees, and the trees themselves are just a green blur.
But this year, during the season of Lent and the days approaching Easter, I feel a pressing need to remember. The Bible is all about remembering; even the minutiae of the Law laid out in Leviticus served to remind the Israelites that they were a chosen people, a set-apart nation belonging to a mighty and just God.
We remember God’s covenant with Abraham: The fresh hewn pieces of bird and animal laid out in a ditch, passed through in the dark by a smoking pot and a flaming torch, God’s presence near and frightful, swearing to uphold His promise and foretelling His ultimate sacrifice on another altar.
We remember God leading His people out of misery and oppression in Egypt, peeling back the briny waters of the Red Sea and coming near in a pillar of rising smoke and rushing fire.
We remember the newborn Jesus, delivered in the place where animals were sheltered, and wrapped in the same clothes that were used to swaddle the perfect and unblemished lambs destined for sacrifice at the temple, His birth announced by angels shouting in a midnight sky.
We remember Jesus, compassionate among the hurting, ailing, outcasts, but bold and fearless in the face of opposition to the Kingdom of Heaven. Walking step by dusty step with His followers, teaching them about grace and truth and righteousness.
And on that last night, before He was betrayed, He prepared the Passover table for His disciples, recalling a passing over of God’s wrath which, at this appointed time, would not pass over Him. And He handed around a loaf of bread and a cup of wine. Because He knew they would forget—as we forget—the powerful and audacious and wonderful ways He reaches into this dark world and lights our way home.
“As often as you eat of this bread and drink of this cup,
do so in remembrance of Me.”
Kirsten and her husband Chris grew up at EvFree Fullerton. She has two young kids and serves in Women’s and Children’s Ministries.