My Favorite Sounds

I like sounds. Not just words or music, but sounds. There are the obvious things like rain hitting the window and my children’s laughter; but there are more subtle things like the click of the keyboard as I’m typing this. It lets me know I’m being creative. There’s also the opening of the door in the evenings because my husband of 18 years is home and our family is under one roof again. Or there’s also when Bucky sighs letting me know he’s content.

But there is one sound I really enjoy hearing week after week. It’s the gentle click of the communion cups during our church’s weekly communion time. When I was growing up I went to a church that only had communion once a month at best. I could never figure out when it was coming. It made me wonder why communion was so sporadic, or at least it seemed that way. Then I started going to East Win. There communion is served weekly because it says in scripture that Paul ‘broke bread’ with fellow believers on the first day of the week in Acts 20:7 and made it sound like it was a regular occurrence, not something that was saved for certain days of the month or special observances. But the scriptural basis for frequency of communion isn’t what I’m talking about in this post at least.

I’m talking about the wonderful sound the cups make as the church family takes communion. We don’t have a chancel rail like other churches, nor do we have it given to us like some others. We have the bits of unleavened bread in a small tray in the middle of two rounds of small cups of grape juice. Then, the whole church takes the elements as they are passed down the rows. So while some take taking, others have already taken and are putting their cups back in the trays. They make this gentle click as they rest in their places and the tray is passed to the next family member. (Just writing about it is a soothing experience, reminding me how great my church family is and how lucky I am to have them.) So, for the next few minutes, while I reflect on the sacrifice of God’s one and only son for me even if I was the only one who needed it, I am able to listen to the rest of the family take communion and know they too are trying to make it in this world and none of us can get through it without the sustaining strength of Jesus and his spirit.

It’s a great unifying thing for me to know I am not alone in my struggle to be in this world and not of it, my struggle to be transformed by renewing my mind, my struggle to be the best help meet to my husband and mother to my kids. Those quiet clicks of plastic on brass are almost like a hug or a pat on the back saying, “We are struggling too. We all need Jesus. It’s ok to rest fully on him.”

And it’s probably my favorite sound in all the world.

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