As the basket circles each table, from every corner comes the sound of flat bread cracking as sections are distributed to each person. "The body of Christ broken... the body of Christ..."
Surely he has borne our griefs
and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
smitten by God, and afflicted.
But he was wounded for our transgressions;
he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
and with his stripes we are healed.
Isaiah 53:4, 5
"...for you." Broken for me. My grief, my sorrow, my sin caused The Only Innocent to be smitten, afflicted, crushed. For me, he was broken. All around, the snapping sound of brokenness.
One person from each table leans forward to extinguish the flame and the room is plunged into darkness. Out of the darkness we raise our voices in harmony, an acapella verse of Amazing Grace swells and fills the room: How sweet the sound, the broken body of Christ--now Christ's Body; recipients of grace undeserving, a covenant unfathomable, love without measure!
Mmm, i wish I could have gone.
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