One year there was a service leading up to Easter that was about a battle. Four kings against five went to blows, and Abram's nephew Lot was carried away in captivity. Abram gathered his army and pursued the enemy, bringing Lot home again.
Melchizedek, the king of Salem appeared, offering bread and wine. This was an unexpected blessing. It is in fact the first instance of communion in the Word. Hearing about the conflict that preceded the meal helped me to prepare for the Holy Supper that was to be offered at the end of the service. Families were welcome to come up for a hands on blessing, while the bread and wine were reserved for adults. The minister explained that there was both whole wheat and gluten free bread, as
well as the choice of wine or grape juice.
At the mention of grape juice, Benjamin's head popped up. This is currently his ultimate drink. The last time he and John went shopping Ben urged that they buy eight jars instead of merely four.
The musicians began to provide quiet instrumental music while people came up for the sacrament. I looked over at Ben and smiled. They were playing his favorite, John Michael Talbot. He smiled too.
Ben and I walked up to the railing and knelt down. I reached for a piece of bread. So did Ben.
My eyebrows rose, wondering how God would feel about this man/boy taking part. I noted the stubble on his chin, and recalled the struggles he has endured lately. Sometimes he is carried away by anger, much like Lot's abduction. Anxiety holds him captive inside a body that thrashes with emotion. He rebukes his fingers for poking his eyes, by screaming at them. Whacking them on the table top. But today those fingers were willing servants reaching for bread.
Melchizedek appeared out of nowhere, bringing nourishment to an exhausted army. It was a gift much like this moment: my autistic son reaching for the Lord's supper with humility and eagerness. Ben's obedient fingers reached for the tiny glass of juice, and lifted it to his lips.
Then went back for seconds.
