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- Written by: Don Goulding
For this reason, whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord. A person should examine himself first, and in this way let him eat the bread and drink of the cup. For the one who eats and drinks without careful regard for the body eats and drinks judgment against himself. (1 Corinthians 11:27-29)
The bread is at my mouth, and the cup of the vine will follow. Before I take these symbols into myself, I want to remember why we do this. The cloud in my mind won’t solidify, but phrases waft past.
“Examine himself … unworthy manner … guilty of sinning.”
The smoke thickens.
I examine myself. A harsh reply to my wife, carnal thoughts, ingratitude. I’m unworthy. Can I hide from the cup?
The mist shifts and the words clear up.
“Whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup … in an unworthy manner.”
We’re all unworthy. So it’s the manner in which I take communion that can condemn me.
More words take shape, “Careful regard for the body of the Lord.”
There in the cloud, I see Jesus, crucified. His face is twisted in agony, and blood runs from his gaping wounds.
I must acknowledge Jesus, my Lord, beaten and dead because of my unworthiness. Failure to recognize what my sin cost the King of the Universe, is to eat and drink in an unworthy manner.
The Darling of Heaven, the Perfect One, has subjected himself to an errant flea. He has raised that flea to a status beyond angels. Am I worthy of his sacrifice? No. Can I acknowledge the horrible cost in a manner of reverence? Yes.
The smoke grows dense and spiced. It becomes the incense of awe in the Holy of Holies in my heart.
In my left hand is bread, in the right is wine. As the warm haze swirls through me, I desperately push the body and blood of Christ into my mouth.
Prayer: Dear Jesus, your body and blood are what I need above all things.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
But be filled by the Spirit, speaking to one another in psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, singing and making music in your hearts to the Lord … (Ephesians 5:19, 20)
I had to choose. Pakistani Christians jumped and waved to the rhythm of a pump organ and tiny brass cymbals. I could watch the persecuted believers as an outsider, or join as a fellow heir of Christ. I overcame my inhibitions, slipped into the revelry, and whirled before the Lord with my brothers and sisters.
High on the Amazon headwaters, Christian leaders guided their canoes to a sleepy village for a pastors’ conference. The joy of coming together erupted in Spanish worship of Jesús, as bright guitar notes blended with the airy tones of a zampoña flute.
While serving in the Sichuan province, God gave unmusical me the lyrics to a song. I collaborated with a Chinese musician to create a hymn that spread through the underground churches. The Mandarin words for, “God, your love is all around me. God, you are all I’ll ever need,” rose on long high notes, then resolved on a heart confirming crescendo.
There’s a mysterious connection between music and the Spirit of God. Both engage parts of our being we can’t understand, and both unify our hearts in joy. Combine music with the Spirit and we abandon ourselves in worship with heart, mind, soul, and strength.
When I self-consciously analyze other singers, I get out of sync. I have to close out the world, let my body find the beat, then move in unity to the music around me.
The same is true with the Holy Spirit. Only when I ignore human agendas, including my own, and follow his rhythm, do I find the harmonious life God intended.
I can sit on the sidelines and count out the steps of religion, or I can jump in and move with the Spirit of grace. Watch or join—I have to choose.
Prayer: Holy Paraclete (Advocate/Helper), let me dance with you today.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Such trials show the proven character of your faith, which is much more valuable than gold - gold that is tested by fire, even though it is passing away - and will bring praise and glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. (1 Peter 1:7)
A hunched man sat outside his house, gazing into the stunted pines and granite crags of China’s Yellow Mountains.
“I was a porter for fifty years,” he explained through my interpreter. “Every day, I carried goods up sixty thousand steps to the top.”
The man before me was a knot of muscles developed from five decades of hauling loaded buckets, balanced from a pole across his shoulders. Most locals I met played mahjong tiles every day, but this gentle soul had done something extraordinary with his life. He’d carried bricks and parcels up more than one billion stairs.
Faith is a muscle that atrophies without exercise. When there’s no resistance from trials in life, my faith in God gets weak and flabby. Hardship makes me pray and trust God until my faith increases. Trials build up faith, and faith stores up glory.
Faith is my most valuable strength. I may be a deeply religious person, and have an impeccable service record, but those don’t move the heart of God like faith in his Son. My heavenly Father wants to see a well developed, highly sculpted faith in my life.
Back in the Yellow Mountains I gave my new friend the gospel message, which he eagerly received. But he gave me something in return. He demonstrated that living a significant life requires overcoming significant hardship. If he’d loitered among the mahjong players, instead of fighting the gravity of those stairs every day, we would never have been touched by his incredible story, or spurred on to glorious faith.
Prayer: Master Trainer, use trials to build up my most holy faith.