I love the idea that instead of having lofty resolutions which are forgotten, or I am riddled with guilt for not living up to; choosing one word to guide me through my year - taking in the variety of forms the word may manifest into with the changing seasons.
As I thought about what I wanted for this year, I struggled to come up with just one word that encompassed all I hope for this year. I want to remain open. Open to life, and learning, and people. I want to love deeply and well. I want to be in the business of people.
With that, I choose for 2012: Communion
I base my meaning of this word in the Biblical sense, but perhaps not in the connotation that the word has taken today.
I have often wondered what it was of this breaking of bread and wine at a table with other other men that caused it to became the very symbol of Christ himself.
Eating meals like that of the Last Supper was common place for the disciples. They shared countless meals in the same fashion. Coming together for food, conversation, life.
But more than this, Jesus's words, are the basis of communion:
"This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me."
1 Corinthians 11:24
This is my body, which is for you: Jesus, limited his infinite self into flesh form. Mortal-pain bearing, capable of love, anger, pain, strife, joy. Why would he do this? "I do this for you." He breaks his flesh, sent blood flowing in order to come along side to experience life with these men.
Do this in remembrance of me: more than a ritualistic act of bread and wine to remember a Jesus, I believe this line infers a desire for others to do as he did, gave of his very self, to and for others. In this way he calls to be remembered.
Not by symbols.
Not in self-righteous piety.
Not pretending to be strong when we are weak.
Not pretending to be weak when we feel our strength.
Not trying to do this life alone.
Do this in remembrance of me:
The ugly cry in front of others when your heart is breaking, shedding redemptive drops that travel the length of your face, your sorrow, onto the outstretched hand of those who love you.
Dancing with sure delight when the moment comes. Not hesitating for a moment to encircle those around us in our arms and twirling as wildly and as quickly as we can.
Taking in the truth of the moment. Learning of ourselves through the lives of others. Expansion of thought and respect of worlds that are not our own. Finding our common thread that joins our life with theirs.
For I believe in this, there is communion.
There is life.