There is one hymn that always, without exception, gets me teary-eyed and choked up when they trot it out at church (usually, come to think of it, at funerals): “For All the Saints,” and in particular the verse that goes
O Blessed Communion, fellowship divine!
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine,
Yet all are one in Thee, for all are Thine,
This weekend we’re heading for Poughkeepsie to attend the First Communion of my goddaughter, Ruth Adele Milne, in the yellow dress, the youngest daughter of my dear friend Elizabeth. (Her oldest daughter, Emily Jane, is also “mine.” Though unfortunately we were unable to attend her first because of a raging flu bug that hit both our families at once.)
Elizabeth, who is MUCH better at staying in touch with photos and letters and little tokens of remembrance than ever I was, nearly made me choke on my Diet Coke with the last picture she sent of her kids.
Emily is officially a young woman. Wow. Seems like just yesterday I was changing her diaper and begging her mother to let me take Em for a walk around the apartment complex so she could get a couple hours of rest. Now . . . wow. I’m a little afraid to blink, in case she makes me a great-godmother while my eyes are closed!
The thing about this “blessed communion” is that it goes on under our noses when we are least aware of it. Both the glory and the struggle. All under the mighty eye of God, who gives us just what we need when we need it — as any good Father does. (My husband was reminded of this just today when Sarah insisted on bringing a box of Timbits into class with her, and resisted his offer to let him carry it in for her. Long story short, he was picking Timbits off the floor and kicking himself for not trusting his first impulse and taking the donuts away from our excited daughter.)
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine. And that’s what I’m most looking forward to this weekend: a glimpse of the glory, when my goddaughter gets her first real taste of Jesus. I tell my kids that we’re never closer to God than at that moment when we receive Him in the Eucharist — that if they listen very closely, they can hear the angels singing.
Of course, they’re all geeked about the party and the presents, and truth be told it can be tempting to let the hoopla detract from the main event. Until we remember that, on this day of all days, our children are getting to experience for the very first time, a foretaste of the heavenly Wedding Feast to come.
Better than bakery cake, any day of the week.
Lord Jesus, You are the Bread of Life, the Wine of Gladness,
You are the Joy that never ends.
Give us an unforgettable taste of You to sustain us
As we feebly struggle across the long days ahead,
Until we taste at last that heavenly Bread,
Consumed with the Fire of Everlasting Love,
And that Blessed Communion that will never end.
In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen!