The Party Has Arrived

Yesterday I went to church in Llano Grande, a small town halfway up a volcano. It's one of my favorite churches to visit, as the congregation there feels like a family away from home. They're marvelous.

So the pastor begins to preach and talks about how this Sunday is a celebration Sunday. Well, every Sunday is reason to celebrate he says, but today we're having a party. Today we're celebrating the party that is Holy Communion--partaking in the blood and body of Christ Jesus. He wanted us to know that we were to celebrate that which Christ has done for us, dying on the cross to forgive us of all of our sins. Of our imperfections. And now it's time to party.

After the sermon, everyone begins to line up in the only aisle of this 50-member church, getting ready to receive the cup and the bread. Quietly, background music begins to play from the speakers hanging precariously over the plastic chairs and wooden benches, the only affordable seats for a congregation in this community. The moment is serene, and I'm contemplating that which Christ has done for me. Then I look up.

And there, walking down the aisle, is one of the church members, probably in his late 40s, early 50s. He's carrying the cup in one hand, the bread in the other, and he's wearing navy slacks with a navy t-shirt, nicely tucked in. He's returning to his seat to pray and receive the blood and body of Jesus. And I can't help but crack a smile. Because written across his t-shirt is a rather simple message, in English:

"The Party Has Arrived"

How appropriate :-)