A Christmas Communion

I pass on to you what I received from the Lord himself. On the night when he was betrayed, the Lord Jesus took some bread and gave thanks to God for it. Then he broke it in pieces and said, “This is my body, which is given for you.”

1 Corinthians 11:23-24

Last Christmas we didn’t have many presents under the tree, and that was the result of a conscious decision. We decided as a family that we would forgo a lot of the gift giving and, instead, have one big gift that we’d enjoy together—a trip to China. And we had a wonderful journey with lots of memories and hundreds of photographs.

In preparation for our trip, we watched several documentaries on the country and, among other things, learned about China’s Cultural Revolution. It was a time when Christians were often sentenced to hard labor in prison camps. They weren’t allowed to express their faith in any way. But for one dedicated man, Christmas was not complete without Communion. The significance of Jesus’ birth and death made celebrating the Lord’s Supper on a cold Christmas Day in China worth the risk.

It was 1961 when the prisoners were working around rice paddies in zero-degree temperatures and the wind was howling over the frozen ground. This man approached his supervisor and asked for some time off from work since it was Christmas. The guard gave him permission but warned him to beware of the warden. The old man found a deep ditch, out of sight, and built a small fire, where he began to celebrate Christmas.

A few minutes later the friendly guard saw the warden headed straight for them. He hurried over to warn the old prisoner, just in time to see him sipping something from a chipped cup and eating a bite of bread.

When the warden arrived, all he saw was a small fire with the prisoner and guard huddled over it. But the prisoner had completed his Christmas celebration, not with a banquet or with sweets, but with a cold cup and a cold crust—with Communion. His celebration of Christmas demanded Communion.

The birth of God’s Son would leave us cold, if not for the death of Jesus, enfolding us in the warm glow of his mercy. Our celebration of his birth needs to be wrapped in the swaddling clothes of God’s grace. Our awe at Advent is not just that he came at all, but that he came to be crucified.

Thus may we abide in union with each other and the Lord, and possess, in sweet communion, joys which earth cannot afford.

—John Newton

From the book