wafer-thin of meaning

11 04 2010

crushed

I found crushed communion wafers at the bottom of my man-bag today. Remnants, fragments, symbols of a long-forgotten adventure, a terminal journey from churchy shop to plastic pot to food bag to holy table, to arrive at the sacred destination only to find themselves eaten as much as revered, consumed as much as consecrated, wholly eaten as much as holy food. Except…

Except for these escapees, these abandoned fragments of flour and water that claim to be bread, but are to bread what church coffee is to Costa. For these, their destiny is unfulfilled, their darkness complete in the bottom of the front pocket of my bag, where in a rush they were transported, yet escaped, to sit, waiting, like unrequited love offering themselves fully, but finding themselves ignored, trapped in the purgatory of in-between, not fit for purpose, yet not even considered, and until now, overlooked.

They are a symbol of something, their brokenness, their meaninglessness, their nothingness surely meaning something, the telling of their story giving purpose to their ill-fated journey. And now, they are returned to the ground from which they came, to grow once again on a holy wafer tree, no longer crushed but dissolved, not eaten but melted away, stuck not to a tongue for an awkward but endless few seconds, but lost forever amongst the beautiful soil and dirt that stretches underfoot, unnoticed, undisturbed. Wafer-thin, and full of meaning.


[theblogofkevin has been enjoying a week off post-Easter and may have had too much time to think]

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7 responses

11 04 2010
c2drl

We look at crushed wafers and think of the act of crushing, the waste, the failure to fulfil that for which they were intended. We look at the symbols and denegrate them for not being the bread they represent, which itself represents something so amazing we cannot even understand it. And so we ignore them, discard them, forget them and move on.

God looks at crushed people and thinks, not of the act of crushing but of the act of renewal that follows, of how he can resurrect and bring growth from the crushing and the crushed and so become part of a renewed and God like world. God looks at us, the crushed symbols of his love and draws us to him, values us and nurtures us until we become the symbols we should be and begin to understand he whom we represent. And so he seeks us out, befreinds us, journeys with us and helps us to stay with him.

God’s view of things is so different from ours and yet we still try to see things through our eyes and not his.

11 04 2010
Kevin

I knew there was meaning there somewhere! A very good exegesis of my slightly odd way of thinking.

12 04 2010
Edge

I thought Jesus was crushed for our iniquities, but it looks more like it was your fault. So does that make you the propitiation for something?
And is the bottom of your man-bag a worse fate for the body of Jesus than ending up in Gehenna would be for us?
So many more questions spring to mind. Modern theology is endlessly fascinating…

12 04 2010
c2drl

Sorry Edge you’ve got this all wrong. Jesus was crushed for our iniquities, but does that make him responsible for all the sin in the world? I don’t think so. And if Kevin was the propitiation for something does that mean that Pilate could have been the propitiation for our sins?

Why is the question about the relative demerits of various means of crushing relevant to anything?

Maybe we need to stop asking too many questions and concentrate on what God is saying and doing. The Zeitgeist says ask enough questions and you can dissemble anything. God’s wisdom and love are beyond human logic. I for one am very glad about that, it is one of the things that gives me real hope.

Now why is that? Discuss.

12 04 2010
Kevin

There are many questions, and many answers, but they don’t always match up – and not enough are found at the bottom of my man-bag for this discussion to get us many places!

What I do know is that if I believed that Jesus actually was the wafer in the bottom of my man-bag, then this debate would transubstantiate into something way more, well, fleshy. As he isn’t there any more than he is any where, I am relieved of the responsibility of crushing Jesus again. And my man-bag is not Gehenna. It is Fat Face.

13 04 2010
Edge

It’s a tricky thing, humour. If you have to explain it, the joke has gone wrong. Maybe it was a bit ambitious of me to try and take the piss out of an old hymn lyric, catholic guilt, arcane church language, transubstantialists, hell-fire damnationists, man-bags and my own ‘reputation’ for asking unanswerable questions all at the same time in my previous comment, but I think it’s fair to say that the irony was lost (going by c2drl’s interpretation). I apologise for any confusion and/or distress caused.
In my defence, I would argue that Jesus was a much funnier guy than comes across when he is quoted in the Bible. Sometimes the joke is the point and sometimes the joke is to point. But which is which and when? Oh blimey, now I’m comparing myself to Jesus and asking another facile question…

13 04 2010
c2drl

Sorry edge, it looks like I’m the one with egg on my face, I missed the irony. Well we hoary old Christians aren’t much used to that in Church, you’ll be expecting us to enjoy it and laugh and wave our hands around next.

Now, when you compare yourself with Jesus are you thinking that you are sinless or omnipresent or what? Surely you must be at least a little bit like him, which i suppose means I mustn’t get cross with your questions. Now Kevin, that would make an interesting debate for somebody’s blog.

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