When I was in seminary I remember being read a story written from the perspective of a young deacon who marveled at the tears and sincere contemplation of an older gentleman while he partook the emblems of the sacrament. I knew it was desirable to be so connected to Christ through this ordinance, but I just couldn’t see my way to it at that point in my life.
Close to this time, my Dad was bishop in our ward. I remember him seeking, and receiving permission to administer the sacrament on the Sunday’s of General Conference so that we would not be without the sacrament that week. Obviously, this ordinance was important to my Dad. But though I thought this good, I didn’t know if it was really necessary.
As I matured I began to reflect on the incomprehensible power of the atonement of Christ which could wash me clean each week. There were tender times as I reflected on my specific wrongs being remitted and my desire to have the Holy Ghost more abundantly in my life in the coming week. I started to feel gratitude more deeply as I made missteps in my relationships with those I care most for. Knowing that I could be forgiven and made fresh gave me the hope to keep going week to week, in my weakness.
One period of my life, I couldn’t stop the tears each week as I relied on the redemptive power of Christ to heal me of both my own weakness and imperfections, but most especially from the same manifest in others. I reached for that power. I wanted to be clean and whole. I wanted only the power of Christ in my life.
I think if you had asked me at this point if I understood the significance of the sacrament, I would have had an abundant answer. Yet there was more to be learned.
I don’t remember the circumstance playing out in my life at the time. I know I was in our current chapel and I know it was fast Sunday because I bore testimony of this. I know that I was going to church every week and serving in my calling. But somehow, likely for the needs of a baby, I was unable to partake of the sacrament for 11 weeks straight. I suppose I was always either out feeding the baby or attending to the needs of other children. I yearned to take the sacrament. I determined to accomplish it this particular week.
I didn’t seek this experience, but I certainly treasure it now. After the prayers were said and the bread distributed, the emblems made their way to me. I know I was grateful to partake. As I swallowed the bread, I felt a warm burning in my chest, a little personal fire. This was unique and immediately held my attention. Why was I having a physical experience? That little fire within started to intensify and expand through my bosom, gaining strength as it filled me up, literally, to my shoulders, my neck, and my head. I cried as I understood that I was in deed being cleansed. I can’t tell you how. I can’t even tell you why. But I can tell you what. I felt clean and loved, and most especially, known. Also I came to know that the sacrament has power beyond the commonality it may become to us.
One other time I remember watching as the priests tore into the bread and again, though I wasn’t seeking this, found tears on my cheeks. I don’t know exactly how to put words to this moment. I only know that I was deeply touched as I reached to understand this simple, powerful ordinance.
I don’t really understand. But I have been given to sense the power of it. When Christ was in the America’s with the Nephites, after witnessing of His divine work, instructing, and healing them, He instigated the sacrament. Though we have only 15 chapters or so of scripture recorded while He ministered here, two different times, it is recorded that He issued the sacrament. And He spent a good deal of time instructing about how it is to be conducted in His absence, instructing that it should happen frequently.
From my experience I sensed that we are quite literally cleansed when we take the sacrament. Our being is a better vessel to hold the Holy Ghost and He is able direct and instruct us more intensely. The more we have the Spirit in us, the less we are tempted by the philosophies and appetites of the world.
We really must partake worthily frequently to keep ourselves unspotted from the world. I think this is why the adversary strives to keep us from church. As sin and doubt crowd out our hearts, the Spirit has less sway there, His voice is dulled. And though it’s not necessarily our intention or our desire, we have lessened the power of Christ in our lives.
Though I can’t tell you how it’s accomplished more than the general power of the atonement, I can testify of the power of the ordinance of the sacrament. We need it. We need the Priesthood which administers it. I cherish it.
Love,
Mom
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