| Hands Of Communion Various pairs of hands you might find taking Communion together. | | by: | |
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| Item Size: 2.79 KB Created: 12:13pm on 04-24-2002 Modified: 12:18pm on 04-24-2002 | |
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The story behind this poem: Back in late 1978, our then-minister, Chuck Cox, had read several of my poems and liked my style, so he asked me if I could do a special one for him to read during our next Communion service.
He told me that he had a vision of the hands of different people sharing the Communion feast and asked me to think about this as I was writing the poem.
This poem was written almost a quarter of a century ago (24 years ago, come November 26, 2002), so there might be a part or two that "dates" it (e.g. spoon-rings), but the Message it sends will never go out-of-style!!!
Although I've made a few changes in punctuation--and even fewer changes in wording--to make it read more smoothly, what you'll be reading below is close-to-exactly what the congregation at Colonial UMC heard Chuck read from the pulpit back in 1978.
May it also touch you in a very positive way!!!
HANDS OF COMMUNION
Around the table of our Lord, they gather to partake and pray;
And--for this meditation I--have put their hands upon display,
For sensitivity knows well that each pair has a tale to tell.
Transparent hands with lines of blue
Reach eagerly, although they shake,
To grasp a quite familiar cup
And well-known loaf of bread to break.
Rough hands--a large and small as one--
Are symbols of a toil-worn life
Where hard times didn't kill the joy
Known by the husband and the wife.
Another pair of hands in love--
But one is dark, the other white,
Which seems to shock more than a few,
Though, in their joy, God shows delight.
Smooth hands--no outward wear they show,
For work took place within the mind.
Here at the table of our Lord,
They know that inner-peace they'll find.
On up the arms from some spoon-ringed hands,
Needle-scars tell of a troubled teen
Whose hands once, in a desperate search,
Unearthed II Corinthians 5:17.
For what he thought would bring world peace,
This man a part of him gave up.
With metal hook, he taught himself
To, once again, take bread and cup.
Tiny, velvet hands--too young
To take the bread or grasp the cup,
But they a great example set
By always reaching out and up.
And these are just a chosen few
Of all the hands who share the feast--
And God loves every single pair,
Right from the greatest to the least!
© Copyright 2002 Peace & Love From AJ (UN: ainsleyjo at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Peace & Love From AJ has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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