As we prepare to celebrate World Communion Sunday on October 6, here is a poem that I forgot I had written! 🙂 Found it this morning in an old undated journal.

REMEMBER

“Whenever you 
eat this meal,
remember me.”

I imagine confused looks
passed between 
those gathered 
around the table.
One turning his head
to the one next to him.

“Remember him?”

But Jesus
had already moved on.

Their eyes now 
tracked his hands
as they lifted high
the cup
full of wine
holding it before them
looking each in the eye.

“This is my blood,
the new covenant,
poured out for you
and for many
for the forgiveness of sins.
Do this
and remember me.”

“Remember?”

they whispered
“Why do we need to
remember? 
He is right 
here!”

And
yet,
remember,
Jesus said.

Memory.

It’s a funny thing
isn’t it?

It’s a taking out of 
a snapshot
stored in our minds
holding it in front of us
a small glimpse
into a fragment
of our past.

A feeling
A pain
A joy

Memory
is an opening window
through which a breeze
scented with other places
other times
blows through.

For a moment
we can
sit
in that story
that memory
visiting with people
long passed
walking through
a conversation
long ended
hearing voices
long stilled.

Though years may pass
though the feelings change
the memory remains.

Memory is by its nature
things past.

We hold no memories
of things
to come.

We cannot take out
a snapshot
of our future
hold it out
in front of us
and contemplate
what it holds.

We cannot crack open
the window
of the days
that lie ahead
to catch
a glimpse or
a scent or
a sound.

It is only
our past
that can be opened
for review
as we
remember.

Eventually
our present
becomes 
more pressing
and we close the window
put away the snapshot
to focus on the
here-and-now.

But
then
again
we return.

We
remember.

Our past has
a gravitational
pull
on our minds
our emotions
our souls.

Our past —
its pains
its joys —
call to us
calling us to
remember.

Our past
is what
we know.

Our past
is what
made us
into the people
we are today.

Beautiful
Broken
Strong
Shattered

Courageous

The past
is what
we know.

Even when it
pinched
Even where it
hurt
We knew
its edges
We knew it.

Long ago
in a holy city
on a holy night
a holy man
sat with his friends
around a table
and told them
to

remember.

That night
they did not
understand
his words.

Because they 
could not
open the window
to their future
to catch a glimpse
of what was to come.

Garden
Betrayal
Trial

That night
they did not
understand 
his words.

Because they
could not
take out a
snapshot
of their future
to hold it in front of them
to know
what was
to come.

Death
Grief
Confusion
Fear

Jesus said,
“Do this
and remember me.”

Because

Although
they did not 
know

Although
they did not
understand

Jesus
did

He came
that holy man
to that holy city
on that holy night

because
he knew
why
he had come

To teach
To love
To point the way
to his Father

To go 
to a cross
to a grave

Because
he knew
that his friends
gathered around
the table
on that holy night
in that holy city
would
not understand.

Until

suddenly

they

did

After Jesus
was resurrected
they
saw him
spoke with him
touched him

Then
they

remembered.