My maternal grandmother is a great cook. I remember driving 5 hours from Bishop to San Gabriel and then sharing a big ham dinner with scalloped potatoes, pineapple, bread, and dessert. There was comfort in those meals, and love. Like women around the world, my grandmother shows love through food. Through her hours in the kitchen she offered herself in service and love to us. And now, whenever I eat ham and scalloped potatoes, I am reminded of her—but not just some memory lodged somewhere in the file cabinet of my mind, but drawn into her person—her smile, the wrinkles of her hands, her French twist hair style, her smell, the furnishings and details of her home. Those simple bites of food draw me into years of history and memories. They renew in me the love and affection I have for her.
I imagine most, if not all, of us have someone we associate with special foods or drinks—an ice cold coke, chocolate chip cookies, fresh green beans off the vine, eggs and bacon…for each of us it is different. Yesterday, at Eva Brown’s funeral, we received copies of her German chocolate cake recipe and almond rocca. Those are her trademark foods—the ones that prompt each member of her family to remember her with fondness and affection and to call forth their many memories of her.
I’m hopeful you can see where I’m going with this—bread and fruit of the vine are Jesus’ trademark foods. The ones where with a simple bite of bread and a sip of juice we remember, we call forth, our memories of him—both from that night in the upper room, but also the many other stories and moments. Listening to his teachings—“Blessed are the poor in spirit for they shall inherit the kingdom of heaven…” “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you…” “Love the lord your God with all your heart, mind, strength, and spirit.” We remember our astonishment at his miracles—the exorcism of the legion of demons, restoring sight to the blind man, raising Lazarus from the dead. We remember meals shared together—loaves and fishes on the Sea of Galilee, a ladle of water from a well in Samaria, and bread and wine shared in an upstairs room in Jerusalem.
Communion takes us to the moment of Jesus’ meal with the disciples. We are drawn to the upper room of the 1st century, and in turn, we draw it near to us. In Greek, the word anamnesis is the word for remembrance. Its meaning is rich and full. It isn’t simply remembering the words to the pledge of allegiance, or remembering our shopping list, its meaning includes a transportation of the mind—a re-living of the moment. It’s sort of akin to nostalgia—being drawn back into the moment, or calling forth the moment into the present. The Lord ’s Supper, the Eucharist, holy communion, is a stimulus of remembrance—it’s the keepsake, the photograph, the memento we use to remember.
Much like ham and scalloped potatoes remind me of my grandmother, as we eat and drink during Holy Communion, we remember the fullness of the person of Christ, the details, the character traits, the moments shared together, and we remember, too, the love and affection we have for him. We remember the many ways he has cared for us, healed us, forgiven us, and poured himself out into our lives.
We also acknowledge that the Lord’s Supper represents something bigger than a meal shared together—it is the symbol of Christ’s offering on the cross—his humble gift of redemption and salvation from sin, darkness, and death. So, as we eat and drink, we remember not only the tangible moments that are important to us, but we also remember the intangible, the spiritual—we call forth a remembering of forgiveness, of restoration, of healing, of wholeness. By participating in this Holy meal we are once again drawn into the miracle of the cross—the newness of life, the transformation of self, the wiping away of sin. We call on the memories of our conversion, of acceptance of what Christ has done for us, of our profession of faith: “I believe in God the Father Almighty creator of heaven and earth. I believe in Jesus Christ his only son, our Lord…” Christ’s saving act is made alive, real, and present by our remembering—our anamnesis—our calling forth of the power of the blood.
This day, as we receive the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ—let us truly remember, let us call forth, let us be filled with moments and memories of our relationship with Christ. Do this in remembrance of him. Take and eat. Do this in remembrance of him. Take and drink, do this in remembrance of him.
