The Smell of Love

Posted: August 8, 2014 in communion
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I grew up in a small Southern Baptist church where communion was served each quarter on the first Sunday of the month. Preparation for the holy day began the night before as my mom pressed Daddy’s shirt and did a close inspection of his suit which was neatly hung on the hall tree for Sunday morning. Our family lived on a dairy farm, so Sunday morning was regularly a rush of activity as breakfast was served, 100+ cows were milked, calves were fed, and a frenzied pursuit of the bathroom as we all waited our turn. Daddy would come in at the last minute, looking and smelling as most farmers do, only to transform within minutes to a tall, dark, clean-shaven deacon ready to serve the Lord’s supper to the members at our little church. Our family of five loaded in the car and rode in anticipation of the beauty that surrounds the Table of the Lord. Even though it was not until I was eleven when I had my first communion, my little spirit was awakening to the sweetness and grace surrounding the invitation. Communion for our family started long before arriving at the building where we would join the greater community. It started with the smell of Love. Communion is becoming my favorite part of the church gathering. Lately I’ve been reflecting on the meaning of communion for the body of Christ. I decided to blog my reflections over the next few posts.  

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