“For who is greater, the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one who is at the table?”
“Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine!” The words of Frances Crosby rang out, clear and true. It was the last day of the retreat and we’d all gathered for the final session and to partake in Holy Communion. I always found this custom interesting. In my particular denomination, we took Communion once a month or on special occasions. But every conference, no matter the location or sponsor, always ended with Communion.
I’d connected with friends from a previous conference and sat in the front row aisle seat. These ladies happened to enjoy sitting on the very first row in the auditorium! Sometimes I felt a little too close to the speaker. Front and center could be uncomfortable when the Word of God began to pierce your heart and Holy Spirit brought forth conviction! Yet all had been washed clean as the new day brought forth new mercies and fresh revelation.
Familiar scripture from Luke’s Gospel ushered us into a time of prayer and preparation. Leaders took their places and were served…the body and the blood…that they might, in turn, become servants.
“This is my story, this is my song.”
I made my way to the front and ate of the body and the blood. Tears flowed freely as I knelt at the altar. “Perfect submission, perfect delight,”. Oh that the words being sung would become my mantra! “Visions of rapture now burst on my sight!” The front row seat had provided me a glimpse into eternity. Woman after woman came forward, lines formed on both sides of the auditorium. One by one they ate of His body and drank of His blood. Approaching the altar, then returning to their seats, their voices sang out in unison, “This is my story, this is my song, praising my Savior all the day long.” Was this not what heaven would be like? Would we not enjoy sweet communion with our Savior and praise Him for all eternity?
Crosby’s words became manifest as the atmosphere changed. “Angels, descending, bring from above echoes of mercy, whispers of love.” Ah, such sweet communion.
The conference had brought us together, women from all walks of life, as followers of Jesus. We’d sat at His feet listening intently while speakers brought forth His Word. We’d fellowshipped, shared, laughed, received, wept, broke bread, prayed, and worshipped together even as the disciples did some 2000 years ago. Wasn’t it fitting then, that we too should end with Communion?
That we might take into all the world
such a sweet Communion
and become as One
This is my story
and my song.
“Perfect submission, all is at rest, I in my Savior am happy and blest, Watching and waiting, looking above, Filled with His goodness, lost in His love.”
Blessed Assurance/Frances J. Crosby, 1873