At Ease in Zion
At Ease in Zion
When I rise from where I am kneeling, there will be a congregational prayer, then a closing hymn followed by the benediction and the charge and then we will all leave to go home. Music will play, but it will not uplift me. It will instead only remind me of where I was. That is why I linger.
When He says, "This is my body given for you," "This is my blood shed for you," He teaches that these are not so much His as ours, which He took up and laid down, not for His own advantage but for our sake and benefit. He gave Himself that we might live, and that we might have Him.
And, indeed, we must carefully observe that the entire force of the sacrament lies in these words: "which is given for you," "which is shed for you." The present distribution of the body and blood of the Lord would not greatly benefit us unless they had once for all been given for our redemption and salvation. They are, therefore, represented under bread and wine so that we may learn not only that they are ours, but that they are as life and food for us. Nay, the force is here, that because He gave then, we receive Him now. It is neither His body given for us, nor His blood shed, but His person revealed to us. He secured our reward, and He is our reward.
When I rise from where I am kneeling, the service will end in a few moments. Six days will pass before I can kneel here again. The taste of unleavened bread and wine on my palate...
What wondrous love is this, 0 my soul, o my soul!
What wondrous love is this 0 my soul!
What wondrous love is this, that caused the Lord of bliss
To bear the dreadful curse for my soul, for my soul,
To bear the dreadful curse for my soul?
When I rise from where I kneel, will the congregation see my sadness? Will they read in my eyes that I never want to leave?
Love bade me welcome yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Ddrew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If lacked anything.
"A guest," I answer'd, "worthy to be here";
Love said, "You shall be he."
"I, the unkind, the ungrateful? ah my dear,
I cannot look on thee."
Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
"Who made the eyes but I?"
Truth Lord, but I have marred them, Let my shame go where it doth deserve! And know you not, says Love, who bore the blame My dear then I will serve. You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat. So I did sit and eat.
Soon I will rise, and leave Home to go home. The Master will command it, "Now
go in peace, to love and to serve the risen and reigning Lord Jesus Christ."
That is our charge, an order from the King, who knows and understands that our
hearts long to stay. I wonder if the order breaks His heart as it breaks mine.
We "have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly
Jerusalem, to an innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly and
church of the firstborn who were registered in heaven, to God the Judge of all,
and to the spirits of just men made perfect" (Hebrews 12: 22-23). And we
must descend. Now, and here we understand the true challenge of the fourth commandment.
It is not difficult to rest, when you rest in the
company of all that is beautiful. Instead the challenge is to go, and to labor
for six days.
But now we know what we are working for. We trudge on through this strange and foreign land. We sing by the rivers of Babylon, because we not only know where we are going, but we have been there. We will sojourn for eons, to end in such a home- not to be with such a King. Now we understand that our present suffering is not worthy to be compared with the eternal weight of glory. Now we see the beauty of the King, and so have the strength to break our gaze from Him. If He has not only promised this to us, but secured it for us, we can leave Him, and do His bidding. But I'll be back next week, maybe sooner. And sooner, means forever.
"I go to prepare a place for you..."
For me?
For me!
Sources: Calvin/S. Mead/George Herbert