The Sacrament

So remember that last time I screwed up? Well, I still haven't talked to my bishop about it. To be very honest, I have no idea if I'm supposed to talk to him every single time. But I usually do. I feel like I'm not fully repenting if I'm not confessing. So, generally, I withhold from the Sacrament until I've confessed, and sometimes even after depending on how I feel and what he says.

Usually, I'm late on purpose, so I can miss the passing of the sacred emblems. Or, if I'm feeling the need to be on time, I get there on time but I sit somewhere where it's easier to pass on the Sacrament, like maybe in the foyer if I don't have the kids, or on a smaller pew where people will scarcely notice whether I partake or not.

I admit these things with shame. It doesn't matter what man thinks. Only what God thinks. It doesn't matter if Bro. Jones sees my refusal of the Bread and Water and assumes instantly that I'm a whore. It doesn't matter if Sis. Jackson sees my refusal and assumes that I must be a horrible mother. For one, ours is a kind and merciful church, and these scenarios are so unlikely. Also, even if it was likely, what they think doesn't matter. And I know this. And usually, I accept it.

But, usually, I'm squeezed somewhere between pews and people.

Today, I was a little late, but not late enough to have missed the Sacrament. I peeked into the chapel during the announcements and found a spot in the 2nd pew. I thought I could handle that during the sacrament, except it was right by Sis. Peck and I did NOT want her of all people to notice my unworthiness. But there was another spot behind her. I don't have my kids this weekend so it's just me. So I went to sit behind her, but when I got there I noticed all the remaining space was filled with books and stuff, probably to save it for the rest of a family. So I resigned to sitting next to Sis. Peck. But I found the same next to her. Well the entire front pew was empty. But there I sat, in the empty front pew, directly in view of the primary president who was sitting on the stand(today was the primary program and I am a primary teacher). She smiled at me.

The announcements were done and we were singing the Sacrament Hymn. I almost took off. I thought I would just to sit in the foyer till the Sacrament was over. I felt so exposed! Everyone would notice! I'd be one of the first people to be offered the Sacrament, and I'd certainly be the first to reject it. The humiliation was overwhelming. Every time I don't partake, I'm embarrassed. I'm sad that my actions have led to this consequence. But, never do I remember the humiliation I felt today.

During the hymn, so many things went through my mind. I should just leave. Maybe I should just take the sacrament this time so Sis. Primary President doesn't think I'm an unworthy teacher. Yeah, maybe I'm okay taking the bread and water this time. Maybe I don't have to confess every time. I know I want the Spirit with me and that I can remember Jesus through the week- maybe I'll just take it this time. No, I can't, so I have to go, but, I have to go up to the stand right after the Sacrament anyway for the primary program.

I wanted to disappear.

I did wonder at that time, why I was letting the fear of others' judgment get to me. I worry that their perception of me matters more to me than God's. I told myself, my salvation is NOT in their hands, but in God's. And come what may, I am not worthy today to partake of the flesh and blood of my Savior. And that's what's important. My worthiness, nay, my lack thereof. Not my spiritual appearance, but my actual spiritual health.

And so, when the sweet deacon offered me the trays, I put my head down and my open palm up toward the trays that represented my Savior's offering to me, the offering for which I'd previously shown Him I'm unprepared, and thereby of which I am unworthy. And I quietly wept with so much shame. Shame for my sins. Shame that I was perhaps more embarrassed to be avoiding the Sacrament with eyes on me than I was to have sinned in the first place.

The Sacrament is personal. My attitude, not my actions, made it public. I hope that makes sense.

After I'd made my decision to not partake unworthily, the Lord worked on my thoughts a little, I think. I began to realize that while my ward is awesome, and I love them, I'm just passing through here. These people, most of them, will step out of my life at some point, and I out of theirs, in just the natural courses of lives. Not that they don't mean anything, but we're all just passing through. God is the greater goal. In one year, ten years, a hundred years, the thoughts and possible judgments of those around me on Nov 21 2010 simply won't matter. I'm just passing through.

Even so, passing up the offering of the Sacrament will never be pleasant, and it never should be. It will never and should never be easy. I think I had become a little too comfortable with it, and so for today, I thank my God for allowing me to be in a place so uncomfortable and humiliating and exposed to remind me that being unworthy of this gift is uncomfortable and humiliating, and that I should be so ashamed, but in the presence of God.

It was horrible! It was an awful experience, and I'm so grateful for it, and I hope and pray that I remember it, that I remember the feelings that overcame me then, when I'm faced with desires that may overcome me. I never want to repeat what happened today. I never want to be unworthy of the Sacrament again.

Next week, I'll be worthy. And the week after, and the week after, and the week after. All through December, I'll be worthy. It'll be my Christmas present to Jesus.