Redefining Communion

(All photos were taken by Ashley Monogue during communion at Hope Heals Camp.)

We have all valued stimulation over solitude.

Instead of adopting the mantle of creators, we adopt the role of consumers. And we binge on the act of consumption, continuously. Scrolling through social media, tapping out for television & streaming services, and we (even in the midst of a global pandemic) congregate together in community gatherings. All of these items are stimulating – for the heart & mind, and (sometimes even for the soul.

Please don’t hear these words spoken with haste. However, hear them spoken with a sincere, sometimes sadness. A sadness that comes from the many moments that we miss out on, due to busy'd heads and burdened hearts.

Each item mentioned above brings its benefits. But we can’t acknowledge the upside, without also being attentive to that sneaky place of potential that one can slip into – a place where some would say we are led astray.

The place where time slips away. Where we turn our heads from truth. Where we let life happen to us. Reacting, not responding, because of our overwhelmed agendas fit for all sorts of stimulation. In turn, we leave very little room to be soothed, spiritually.

With two left feet, we can make our way through entire days and weeks without acknowledging the Beauty of our Creator. Without admiring His creation, or loving our neighbor. Without taking one long look in the mirror, and choosing to truly love what we see. To acknowledge the truth that the Image of God exists within me.

Instead, we let our stimulation act as a salve for the issues that exist beneath the surface.

All our souls truly need is solitude. Undivided time and attention, alone at the feet of the Father. The place where rest is revealed, where we receive peace from hearing His heartbeat, and understand what it means to embody the Imago Dei. This divine image that we have been hand-crafted to live within.

I would lie to you if I said that most of my life hasn't been riddled with the idea of Image. Having a multi-ethnic mother and an absent father made for many questions within my mind. I even remember being exposed to the illnesses of racism and prejudice as early as four years old. When the warped ideas and misunderstanding of Image were pushed upon me from the ignorant, indignant minds of others.

However, I don't bear an ounce of hate within my heart for those humans who were raised by the couple of hate and hurt. Instead, I feel a deep sense of gratitude for them, because their comments and commitment to my humiliation created a curiosity within my soul—one that would send me on a journey, not only to understand what true beauty was, but to also understand how any kind of beauty might find a way to inhabit my own existence.

I've learned (this year, specifically) that it's utterly important to understand where you come from. I would even venture to say that understanding who you come from overrides the where. It is valuing the insight of identity over the idol of destination, because who we are becoming will always supersede where we are going in the Eyes of God.

And it is impossible to become who we were created to be, without knowing the One who made us.

"Behold, the gates of Beauty open wide, when we care for our communion with Almighty God."

Growing up, whenever I heard someone speak such an idea of “communion,” my mind ran to breadcrumbs and Welch’s grape juice being passed around the church on silver platters. The reading of scripture and the telling illustration of what Christ did for us—with his broken body and his bloodshed. The sacrifice of his perfect life, that led to my salvation and relationship with the Father: the interconnected items needed for me to touch the heights of Heaven—even while I'm here on Earth.

It wasn’t until my twenties that my love for words would walk me into our earthly understanding of “communion,” or at least its definition. This idea of the sharing or exchanging of intimate thoughts and feelings, especially when the exchange is on a mental or spiritual level. The two way street of exchange—where I can converse with you about anything under the sun, and in the same sentiment, you can share whatever exists within your heart or head with me. Not the place of control, but the place of surrender—where vulnerability and the absence of agenda are the only two prerequisites to relationship.

When it comes to God, we have each forgotten true communion at some point or another in our faith. We get really spiritual: falling to our knees, clasping our hands, filling our lungs with air, then sharing with God what we want or what we need. We talk to Him, not with Him. When we're done with our wishlist, we get up off our knees, undo the clasping of our hands, and walk away with a sense of relief because we think that we have communed with the Father.

And in these moments, my mind imagines an Image of a God who's somewhat sad, whispering to you and  to me, "...wait."

I see a Father on the other end of the phone who has heard from His child for the first time in a while, letting them vent and express their frustrations, yet when it was His turn to respond, the phone call ended.

You see, His heart is to show and share with you, too. How He feels, what He thinks, what He wants for you. He's always happy to hear from His children, but He also wants to communicate solutions to our issues by way of communion. He beholds the beauty, and delights in nothing more than sharing it with His children.

Our relationship with God is much more than a garden that only needs to be tended to when it’s time to harvest a gift of grain. Our perspectives exist to be filtered by the Eyes of the Father. One who isn't hindered by the happenings of humanity or limitations that linger within our minds.

He isn't some nomadic family member, who lives off the land—unreachable by any form of communication outside of a courier pigeon. He's close. He's committed. He's calling out for you and me today—to show us more of who He is. To help unravel His beauty upon His people. To soothe our souls with the abundance of His love.

We ought to be captivated by His character, because He is the one who created us. And how can we truly ever know who we are, whose Image we were created in, if we don't choose to commune with the King.

But we miss out on His invitation to the Table of Eternity, when we choose stimulation over solitude. When we fill our agendas with others, and cancel our appointments with our Father. We each need that appointment today—to be reminded of the beauty that exists within us, and to embrace with emphasis again the beauty that exists all around us, everyday.

He is the optometrist that knocks the scales off of our eyes.
He is the neurologist that finds a fix to the issues within our minds.
He’s the cardiologist that identifies the why behind a palpitation, and prescribes a way to get our hearts right back into rhythm with His own.

He is the Beholder of Beauty.
He... is the Beholder of Beauty.

And communion is where the beauty comes from.