Series Introduction
‘This is my body.’
He said it like you’d offer, Have a piece of bread;
with genteel hospitality but no sacred airs.
Because she’s old, my church has offered that hospitality for a very long time:
‘Here, share my body’.
But throughout the world, where Christians gather, it’s been said for 2,000 years.
‘This is my body.’
Imagine you’re a hungry traveller, a thirsty seeker of truth.
Unburdened of backpack and sweaty cap you elbow up to counter and stool,
swipe back of the hand across a weary forehead and focus on blackboard options of fare.
‘Here,’ plates up the bar tender, ‘This is my body’.
‘And here,’ he motions around his gathered Christ-worshipers, ‘This is my body’.
Let’s chew on a very familiar phrase: This is my body.
Reflection: Body unashamed
Series Introduction:
‘This is my body.’
He said it like you’d offer, Have a piece of bread;
with genteel hospitality but no sacred airs.
Because she’s old, my church has offered that hospitality for a very long time:
‘Here, share my body’.
But throughout the world, where Christians gather, it’s been said for 2,000 years.
‘This is my body.’
Imagine you’re a hungry traveller, a thirsty seeker of truth.
Unburdened of backpack and sweaty cap you elbow up to counter and stool,
swipe back of the hand across a weary forehead and focus on blackboard options of fare.
‘Here,’ plates up the bar tender, ‘This is my body’.
‘And here,’ he motions around his gathered Christ-worshipers, ‘This is my body’.
Let’s chew on a very familiar phrase: This is my body.
Reflection:
Let’s never get tired of revisiting The Beginning, the poetry of Paradise with glimmers of eternity.
Picture God’s final flourish that generated the glory-goodness of humanity.
Body: spirit with a mooring; soul with a presence; interior with an exterior; a shelter, a casement, a shell, a chest to treasure and safeguard, a container to be opened and shared, a nest, a home.
Take a minute to close your eyes and think of ‘home’. For most people, being at home is comforting. Do you find that too? Memories of past homes are formative, consolidating. Deeply grounding. But sharing home—opening our doors to others, is less a universal pleasure. Home is a reflection of who we are. To expose ourselves to the gaze/the judgement of others is to be vulnerable.
I think that’s the case here, in the beginning. Two people, at home in their bodies: vulnerable to each other, to their creator and to their world. This is body and this is good.
Prayer:
Christ-creator, through whom, like whom and for whom we were crafted, we humbly worship you. In the masterful narrative of creation you honoured us with glory and charged us with relationships and stewardship. What a beautifully-wild dance that must have been. ‘Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!’ (Psalm 8:1)