TOPIC: The body and the blood...

This past weekend, I got to serve Communion at my church...now this is something I have done countless times, both here and during my time at seminary...there have been times in my life that I have dealt emotionally with the idea of Jesus Christ, the God-man, giving up his life in such a brutal, inhuman way, so it generally doesn't affect me the same way any more...some may call that callousness, I don't know...but something different happened this time...the juice dripped on my hand...maybe it has happened before and I just didn't notice it, but it felt like a new experience...and then it happened again...and again...then one man, as he was taking the juice-soaked bread to his lips, splattered it on his shirt...after I served, I sat down and looked at my hands...there were stains from the juice and small morsels of bread...my mind immediately raced to the soldiers that whipped and beat my Lord to death...I thought of Pontius Pilate and how he metaphorically washed his hands of Christ's blood...I considered those who removed his lifeless body from the cross...how all of them must have been covered in the blood of Jesus, either literally or figuratively...then I thought of myself...I thought of the times I have turned my back on God, the times I knew the right and did the wrong, the times I rebelled against the only one worthy of my entire loyalty...and I thought, "It's not enough."...this small amount of juice and bread was simply not enough to cover for the sins in my life...but fortunately, that wasn't all...it was only a small shadow of what Jesus did when he laid his life down on that cross, when he shed his blood and allowed his body to be broken for me...for me...what a strange thought...he did it for me...Jesus, thanks doesn't cut it...but thanks just the same...