Title: Last Meal
Text: Mark 14:22~25
Sermon: Sister Ok-Sung Cha (Sunday Sermon on October 16, 2005 at Saegil Church)
In the winter of 1995, I had a silent retreat for a week with the nuns at the Convent of St. Paul's Daughter, a little far from Yeoju. Twenty-three nuns, one priest, and 25 people, including myself, participated in the retreat.
It is a mountain village that is often cut off from the outside when it snows a lot. It is said that he had no idea how deep the valley was, even when the 6.25 came, but learned that there was such a war several years later. This very beautiful village was a place where 90% of the residents were Catholic, and the head of the village announced to the entire micro-neighborhood, “Today, we have decided to hold the 6 o’clock mass somewhere.” At night, the stars fill the sky, and the beautiful scenery of the snow-covered village remains as an unforgettable memory.
In general, even Catholic lay people are not allowed to participate in the retreats of the nuns. As a Protestant believer, I was able to participate with special consideration, with one condition. It was that they did not receive communion. In this way, I was able to have a precious time to reflect on my relationship with God while listening to sermons, taking a walk, and praying for a week.
The content of the sermon there was for everyone to say, “How can I give myself completely to God?” It was a useful and good experience for me.
On the 3rd and 4th days, another priest came from outside and the nuns stood in two lines to give confession. Of course I was excluded from that. At dinner that day, the priest asked me to see him if he had time after dinner. After dinner, I met him and talked with him, and I said that I also wanted to confession.
As I grew older and matured, I had a memory that often tormented me. When I was a child, there was an old woman who baked and sold grass bread in front of our house, and I cheated her and ate grass bread several times. It bothered me so much as I grew older and matured. It kept tormenting me that I had deceived my poor grandmother and no one else. Even if I usually forget it, when I think of the old woman who was standing shabby and baking grass bread, I feel guilty and guilty, but my heart aches.
So, at some point, I also thought a lot about wanting to receive forgiveness through the sacrament of confession. Protestants believe that they confess their sins, ask for forgiveness, and receive forgiveness in private prayer to God. Of course, I think that's what you get forgiven for. However, no matter how much I prayed, I could not shake off the agony I experienced when I remembered my poor and humble grandmother. Seeing the nuns standing in line to make the Sacrament of Confession, I was envious inside.
That night, I confessed to the priest and he prayed for me. The priest then said that he personally thought he was right about the Protestant tradition of asking God for forgiveness and receiving forgiveness of sins. Still, he spoke openly and frankly about the good psychological effects of the sacrament of confession. Although the Catholic Magisterium does not condone Communion with Protestants, it does allow Communion to non-Catholic Christians in exceptional cases. Not only the Eucharist, but also the sacrament of confession and the sacrament of the sick can be given to those who voluntarily request it.
The homily there was mainly ‘How can I fully devote myself to Him?’ The next morning and afternoon sermons were especially about the meaning of Communion. And in the afternoon, the table was covered with white tablecloths, the Eucharist was served, the edges of the table were decorated with flowers, and everything was set in a circle around the table. And he said that he would give Holy Communion to those who say “Amen” when they say “The Lord’s body and the Lord’s blood”. It was then that I could sense that the priest wanted to give me communion. And suddenly it occurred to me that if Jesus were to share bread and wine here, he would not exclude me as a Protestant. So, when we said, “This is the body of the Lord,” we said “Amen” and when we said “This is the blood of the Lord,” we said “Amen” and received Holy Communion.
Before that, I had received bread and wine from the church, but I had a strange experience whether it was because of the difficult bread and wine I received that day, or because of the priest's sermon. After receiving the bread and wine, I thought that I had the body and blood of the Lord in me. And I thought that I shouldn't have even the smallest bad thoughts or even the smallest of hateful thoughts.
Then came a calming joy and peace that I did not know. And the sky could never have looked so beautiful with the stars and everything around them. For a while, I didn't get angry at anything, looking at everything in an unusually generous way for me. When my mind calmed down, everything was just peaceful. At that time, I realized that this is what the Buddhist “one mindfulness” is. And I thought that the communion service of the Protestant tradition was too formal.
The last meal Jesus shared with his disciples should be understood in the context of numerous large and small dining communities that are inseparable from His public life, and it can be seen that His dining communities are deeply rooted in the eating community of the Israelites.
In Israel, meals celebrated on religious and family festivals have a set format. First, there is the ceremony of washing hands, holding the wineglass, offering a prayer of praise, and then drinking wine. After that, the head of the household or officiating person holds the bread and gives a prayer of praise, then divides the bread and eats it with other food. Finally, there is the ceremony. Afterwards, we raise a glass of wine again, say a prayer of praise, and then have a drink of wine. A meal consists of three parts.
Nomads in the Near East leave their homes during the winter and start their nomadic life by setting up tents in a new place in the spring. On the first night, they catch a lamb or a mother sheep and sprinkle their blood on tent stakes or on the threshold or doorposts of the tent. to cast out evil spirits that threaten their homes and livestock