Blessings don’t all come the same way; some come as soothing as the smell of fall, and some come as the cup of suffering. Lately I have been reminded of the wonder of sadness. It’s certainly not a wonder when standing alone, but coupled with surrender, it becomes a deeply precious thing that cannot be bought or traded, and cannot be taken from us no matter the brutality of life.
This past Sunday our Amish community gathered for communion, a sacred service that comes only twice a year.
As I sat on that backless bench toward the back with my children, I loved listening about the life of Jesus. Following him is not all easy, but he paved the way for us
As I took that cup of wine, a scene flashed in my mind of Jesus before his crucifixion. He took that cup of suffering though his entire being agonized at the thought of taking all the sins of mankind as his own. Anew I realized that as I sip from that cup, I am telling Him I too, accept the cup of suffering and pain in my life. Tears fell, the reality of our lives belonging to the Lord and suffering for him was painfully precious. I told Him that as Jesus did it for me, I would also follow through with His plan for my life. That cup of suffering may not be the same for everyone; you know the tumults we all face — the misunderstandings, the betrayal of a friend, the death of a dream or a loved one. It may be more than we can bear, but surely when Jesus looked into that cup of suffering, yours was in there with mine. He paid the price, the battle is won; it will be okay if we accept that healing stream of the blood of Jesus to cover and make us whole!
My youngster snuggled up to me after he watched the adults take the communion cup. “Was it good?” he wanted to know.
I nodded. It was.
But the goodness that reached my heart had completely masked the flavor. This token of the blood of Jesus is sacred. It is because of the blood that there is joy greater than the deepest heartache we never thought we’d meet up with.
The children were getting ready to run off more of their energy, but this was the part they had been waiting on. Though the children don’t take part in communion until they are older and able to grasp for themselves what Jesus had done for them, they always enjoy watching and are like little sponges when it is explained what it is about.
Next came the bread, which was torn off in chunks and handed out in remembrance of Jesus’ body, broken for us.
Last of all came the feet washing. Intrigued, the children watched as the adults slipped off their shoes and socks and stooped to wash each other’s feet over buckets that had been brought in with warm water. It is a precious time, though it’s not that our feet are dirty the way they were in Jesus’ time, when they needed to be refreshed after a long walk. Yet as Jesus washed his disciples’ feet, he did so demonstrating a heart of service and voluntary submission to others, and then instructed us to wash one another’s feet. It is not so much about whose feet we wash as the posture of our heart; that we are there to humble ourselves before our brother or sister and receive their love for us.
After church the children went to romp and play outdoors. It felt good to see them run off energy after sitting through the duration of the services. While I don’t have any brag stories here, I have been amazed at how children really can sit for a long time if they get the art of doing it. For us it’s not so much a matter of just telling them how to do it, but more like something that takes time and practice, and of course for some it’s more challenging than others.
Try this popular recipe for what we call church peanut butter. Hundreds of Amish churches across America use a spreadable peanut butter for their sandwiches after church. Many eat it with ham and cheese and home-canned pickles and red beets. Yummy! I personally go for a less sugar version and use healthy replacements. Do what works well for you!
Amish Church Peanut Butter Spread
1 cup peanut butter
1 cup light corn syrup
1 cup marshmallow creme
1/4 cup maple syrup (optional)
Instructions:
Stir all together until nice and smooth.
Gloria Yoder is an Amish house-wife in rural Illinois. She is the third writer of The Amish Cook column since its inception in 1991. Yoder can be reached by writing: The Amish Cook, P.O. Box 157, Middletown, Ohio 45042.
