Gift #3: Seeing the Sacrament

Happy Sunday! I know you’re excited to tear into this blog post like it’s covered in OneDirection wrapping paper. Before you do that, let’s define some jargon for my non-Mormon/non-Judeo-Christian audience.

Sacrament

Every week, members partake of bread and water that symbolizes the body and blood of Jesus Christ. Taking the sacrament is an awesome weekly opportunity for members to ponder Christ’s sacrifice for us. We can view our sins, repent, and commit to do and be better next week.

Even if I can’t attend all of my Sunday church meetings, I make an extra effort to take the sacrament. The whole ordinance is no more than 10 or 15 minutes, but I feel the closest to God during that time. If you’re not Mormon, you can check out a local LDS meetinghouse and attend the meeting for yourself.

Atonement

You probably know that Jesus Christ died on a cross. This is part of what Mormons call the Atonement. Through Christ’s suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane and death on the cross at Calvary, Christ allowed us to overcome the effects of sin and death so that we could be “at one” with God. At one….atone...I hope we’re making some connections here.

February 25, 2016

Ichinomiya, Japan

I think another element of symbolism of the sacrament is how we sip some water and eat a single tiny piece of bread. Christ doesn’t ask us to eat the entire loaf of bread any more than He asks us to remember and ponder every pain of the Atonement. Remember that single drop of blood shed. Pick one thing to improve on this week- it is truly through the small and simple things that great things come to pass, yea, even a paper cup of water and a piece of bread.

Missionaries don’t get a lot of breaks. We had Preparation Day on Monday, affectionately called P-Day. But P-Day looked like this: get up at 6:30, work out, study for two hours, clean the apartment, buy groceries, eat, email family...I’m tired just explaining.

I think the real preparation day took place on Sunday when I took the sacrament. The sacrament was the one time a week where I didn’t have to care about anyone or anything else. It was me, the Lord, and some bread and water. I couldn’t wait to take the sacrament each week; I felt like a kid on Christmas (unless that kid was Paige, who once cried because she was tired of opening gifts).

My mission gave me eyes to see the sacrament not as a time where I twiddled my thumbs and had to be quiet, but as I time where I could silence the world and commune with Jesus Christ.

Christmas doesn’t come once a year; it comes every week.