Pausing To Remember

A little girl asked her mother one Sunday morning as she was preparing lunch, “Mommy, why do you cut off the ends of the ham before you cook it?”

The girl’s mother turned and looked at her and said, “Oh, sweetie, I’m not really sure why, but I suppose you cut the ends off of the meat so that the meat can better absorb the juices and spices and make it more tender. Maybe you’d better ask Grandma since she was the one I learned it from. She always did it that way.”

The little girl called her grandmother later that day on the phone and asked her the same question, “Grandma, why do you cut the ends off of the ham before you cook it?”

The little girl’s grandmother responded, “Oh, sweetie, I’m not really sure. I think it is so that the juices will be absorbed better. Call your Nana. She is who I learned it from.”

The little girl began to get a bit frustrated with the whole idea but decided to call her great-grandmother anyway. “Nana, mom was preparing lunch the other day and she cut the ends off of the ham before she cooked it. I asked her why and she said that she did it because the juices would absorb better, making it more tender. She told me to ask Grandma to make sure since she learned it from her. Well, I called Grandma and she said the same thing about the juices and all, but that she learned it from you and I should ask you. Nana, why do you cut the ends off the ham before you cook it?”

There was a long pause in the conversation and then the little girl heard what sounded like muffled laughter coming from the other end of the line. “What’s so funny, Nana?”

“Oh, sweetie, I cut the ends off of the ham before I cooked it because my pan was too small!”

You know we’re such a sentimental people. We keep pictures, we buy souvenirs to commemorate events. We sit around and talk about old times and reminisce. We do things the same way we have always done things without ever asking why without stopping to consider what we are doing.

One of the common needs we as Christians have, is a need to be reminded. The flow of information, events, people, and things can cause us to forget even some important items.

Deanna reminded me just the other day that we need each other so much, just so we can remind each other of things we need to do. Names seem to be the hardest thing for us to remember. We find ourselves trying to remember an event or doctor’s appointment we have coming up. It seems like we plan everything based upon doctor’s visits. Neither of us would be able to make it on Jeopardy! Our response to some of the answers are there—we just can’t bring them up quick enough.

Sometimes, things fail to register in their fullness; the crucial meaning of events suffer time’s wearing effects. We become careless with our storehouse of memories.

If we utilize memory correctly, it is one of our greatest assets. By means of memory, we can bring warmth to cold days. Most of all, memories can restore lost incentive and purpose.

This morning we’re going to reading from . When you’ve found your place, I invite you to stand for the reading of God’s Word. (READ & PRAY)

One of the thrusts of the Lord’s Supper is that it reminds us periodically of that which is central in our lives as Christ’s followers. And we need to be reminded—by a dramatic act in which we participate as a fellowship. We participate in a shared act which impresses on us repeatedly that which we cannot allow to grow dim, faded, or worn—that which we cannot allow to be pushed to one side in our lives.

Some have said that the Apostle Paul made explicit in what Jesus only implied in the original act in which He gave the supper to His church. And these go on to contend that the words, “This do in remembrance of Me,” have been added to Luke’s account. Maybe so. But even if that’s so, we have been done a tremendous service. For the Lord’s Supper is an ever-timely reminder, imperative and crucial time in the life of the church. The supper is far more than this, but it is this: a needed reminder.

Jesus chose bread to symbolize His body which would be given voluntarily for the disciples and for all people who would respond to Him. Bread was and is a mainstay, a necessity, the staff of life. It’s a basic food for the body’s nourishment. Jesus had used this item of food previously in His ministry to share a spiritual lesson with those who had gathered to hear Him teach. Perhaps the disciples remembered the miracle in which bread was involved.

Jesus used a second basic ingredient that commonly was included in the meals of His day. The disciples performed the symbolic act of drinking the “fruit of the vine” from a common cup. As they did so, He said this symbolized His blood, His life, which He would give to seal a new covenant between God and responsive people.

We don’t come to the Lord’s table at the beginning of each quarter in the church year, or a set number of times a year, or even every Sunday in the attempt to keep alive the memory of a man long dead and in danger of being forgotten.

You see, our Lord is present among His people, and our action is not a matter of reviving a fading mental picture of Jesus. In reality, we celebrate His presence and power in His church.

We come to the Lord’s table to call to mind again what God in Christ has done for us. We come to impress on our minds again what we have received. And we gather to respond to the Lord of the supper.

In the busy, active city around the little group in the upper room that night, all the memories of the Passover were being revived, as they were every year. According to Jewish literature, in the Passover celebration the son asks his father: “Why is this night different from other nights?” And the father responds by telling the story spanning the centuries. The story begins with a description of cruel slavery in Egypt, of a people deprived of their freedom. The account continues by narrating God’s raising up a man to lead His people out of servitude to a liberty in which they could realize their destiny. The story ends on the high note of a nation’s redemption. Jewish literature contains the idea that in every generation the people view themselves as if they came out of Egypt themselves.

The night in which the Exodus began was never allowed to fade in the Jewish people’s memories. The prophets repeatedly pointed the people to it. The psalmists sang of it. The people singled out this event and re-examined it, seeing again the many facets of its beauty. They reviewed its implications for their nation in every century and in every year. And every year they reenacted, recreated, this event.

Christians through the centuries have come together to share in the Lord’s Supper. This sharing is not to remind us that Jesus of Nazareth once existed, but that the One present with us has done something on our behalf so creative that no amount of examination can reveal its fullness. We come to look again at what has been done for us, to find ever-new meaning in an old story.

We come to the Lord’s table to be reminded of Jesus birth. Its central meaning is for every day and not just for Christmas: God came to us as the God-man to share our living and to show a love that can free us to be His people. God accepted willingly our limitations for a time in order to offer us limitless life.

We come to the supper to be reminded of Christ’s life. His was the one solitary life, the likes of which had not been seen before, and will not be seen again. His life had all the qualities every human being was intended to have—and we do not have. We are reminded of a unique life which summons us to higher levels of living. God redeems us in Christ.

And we come to be reminded of the resurrection of Christ. It has become the central fact of the church’s life, a resurrection which forever speaks of life, of victory, and of a future. We come to have emphasized for us again God’s sovereignty in His world.

As the disciples ate the bread and drank the cup, they re-affirmed their desire that the relationship to their Lord continue.

Both elements of the supper, therefore, serve to express the same basic truth. We perform parallel acts which convey one message. The supper proclaims people’s imperative need to assimilate the Bread of life, to appropriate full life by a deliberate choice. By partaking of the supper, we reaffirm our choice; and we underline our conviction that choosing Christ is necessary for every person’s redemption.

We do well to pause and to remember. For when we do so, we begin again with new inspiration and new determination. We can start out again with a sense of gratitude, deep indebtedness to God, and joy. And we experience a new beginning with the One who made possible the memories interwoven in this supper.