WACKY WEDNESDAY WISDOM: Stumbling My Way Through Life

     I have a secret to share with you. Actually it's more of a confession and an admission. Despite being a three-sport athlete in high school, a two-sport athlete in college (one long year as a football player and four short years as a baseball player), I am clumsy. Folks tell me I was a really good athlete in my day, but I don't understand how that could be, bein's how I stumble into things, stump my big toes constantly, run into objects and items such as desks and chairs with regularity, and in general am a bumbling idiot. I knock stuff over, often without ever seeing it. I can't eat a hot dog without getting mustard on my shirt. I trip while walking on the sidewalk and then look back as if it was the line in the sidewalk's fault.
     When I was a child, a number of "how could anyone be so clumsy" events occurred. I got my ear caught in the our home's front door, which led to numerous stitches. My nose broke when a TV in the living room tipped over on it while I was lying on the floor. I fell down the steps and nearly broke my back. I bit gaping holes in my tongue twice while playing sports. I got stitches in my forehead when I ran into the side of our church, which was made out of jagged rock. (Still not sure how that one happened but it was dark and I distinctly remember thinking I was sprinting through an open door).
     Flash forward to that same church many years later. Actually it was Easter Sunday, only a few days ago. On that fateful day I returned with my wife and youngest son to the church of my youth where my parents still attend. The Stroupes sit in the same pew now as we did over forty years ago. It's kind of a thing.
     The service was lovely and everything was going well until it came time for Communion. At the First Presbyterian Church in Cherryville, NC, Communion is taken in the following manner: There are little wafers of bread on a tray and the usher hands the tray to the first person on the row. That person takes one of the wafers then passes the tray to the next person. Easy enough. No leaving your seat and going up front. No standing, sitting, or kneeling in front of everybody at the altar. I am not against altars or going up front and standing or kneeling in front of everybody to receive the elements. But at one church I previously attended, I was informed by a fellow parishioner after the kneeling at the altar part that I had missed a belt loop on my pants.
     So to be able to partake of the elements while remaining in the safety of the pew is a clumsy person's dream, as the chances of a stumbling, tripping, or belt-loop-missing incident are drastically minimized. And all went well during the bread routine on the day in question. But the threat was far from over.
     I attended a church in the past that used real wine during Communion. I am not a drinker but I downed the shot glass full of salvation and immediately felt the blood rush to my facial and head regions. I decided not to drive the family car home that day, for fear that I would be the first person in history to get a DUI as the result of a church sacrament.
     But my beloved FPC has always used grape juice so no worries there. Just like with the bread, the ushers hand a tray of two-ounce glasses filled with grape juice to the first person on the row and you take one and pass the tray along to the person next to you. I was the first person on the row. I took my little cup from the tray and reached over to hand the tray to my college age son. Within seconds I felt the sensation of a cool liquid substance running down my leg near the knee area of my pants. A quick glance confirmed that the entire contents of my cup had runneth over onto my pants leg. And to make it worse, my son had been hit as well, right smack in the zipper area.
     My next instinct was to panic but I resisted the temptation. Instead I grabbed another cup of juice, thereby assuring that I would still get to partake of the elements despite my previous failure. The tray traveled on down the line without much fanfare but I could tell the rest of the family was aware of my transgression and were humored by it. I did some quick clean ups on my pants and the hardwood church floor, then lent the tissue to JT to clean his own pants for obvious reasons. (Recall "zipper area" above).
     Jesus claimed in Matthew 26:28, regarding the wine of Communion- "This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for the forgiveness of sins." He poured it out on the cross for me, and I accidentally poured it out on the hardwood floor of the FPC. But I wasn't about to forfeit the honor of partaking. That's why I grabbed another little glass full of juice. The privilege of being able to partake in Communion is something I'm not willing to pass up, despite my previous failings.
     I think some people misunderstand what Jesus accomplished on the cross. They mistakenly believe their past failings have forced them to forfeit the right to partake of the love and forgiveness Christ offers. So they let it pass by and don't accept the honor and privilege of joining the family of believers. But I'm here to tell you this: We've all dropped the glass, we've all made mistakes, we've all cowered in shame. Jesus conquered it all. No matter how much we've messed up, he offers us a place at the table. To think you've done something so bad that you can't be forgiven is to say to God, "What Jesus did on the cross isn't powerful enough to cover my sin." Wow, how sad that anyone would believe that.
     There is no doubt as a clumsy bumsy, I will continue to slip, trip, and stumble my way through life. Fortunately my Savior will be there to help clean up my messes, and offer His hand of forgiveness- and possibly a tissue or two along the way.