Taking Communion in a Forest Fire
First Corinthians 11 says that, when we participate in Communion, we are proclaiming the Lord’s death. “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until He comes” (1 Cor. 11:26). On the surface, that verse sounds like we’re just reminding everyone that Jesus died. But it’s more than that. That phrase “you proclaim” is the Greek word kataggello. It’s the same word, used throughout the New Testament, that is also translated as “preached.” “And when they were at Salamis, they preached the word of God in the synagogues of the Jews” (Acts 13:5, emphasis added). When you take Communion, you’re telling the world about the Lord’s death. Every time you partake in the body and blood of Jesus Christ, you are preaching the Gospel. How? Communion is most often thought of as a time of quiet reflection, not bold proclamation. Yet that word kataggello is undeniably assertive.
Every time you partake in the body and blood of Jesus Christ, you are preaching the Gospel.
Each time you take Communion, you align yourself with the broken body and the shed blood of Christ. You are remembering what He’s done for you. But you are also aligning yourself with what happened three days later. When we are lined up with the reality of Christ—in spirit, soul, and body—we release that reality into the world. We preach the Good News, not just from a pulpit or with our voices; we preach the Good News with who we are. We show the goodness of God with how we handle situations in our businesses and in our families. Every time we take Communion, then, we are reminding ourselves that we are Christians—little Christs. When we remind ourselves who we are, we can reveal to the world who He is.
Every time we take Communion, then, we are reminding ourselves that we are Christians—little Christs. When we remind ourselves who we are, we can reveal to the world who He is.
Mark Mack served as a California Fire Captain for 30 years with the wildlife firefighters. In 2007, he was assigned to a major fire in the San Diego area. That location had burned four years prior, and a firefighter had tragically lost his life. Mark and his team were stationed in the exact same place. With winds gusting up to 90 mph, the threat was extremely high that the fire would begin to spread. Mark, the Division Supervisor, was tasked with keeping it contained by any means necessary.
As his shift began, it became obvious to Mark that this was not going to be an easy day. One firefighter sustained a burn; another fell down a hillside, fractured his arm and needed a team to rescue him. After that, an engine crew reported to Mark that they were being fired upon. The crew had been clearing houses in the path of the fire, and they had accidentally stumbled across a meth lab. In a different location, another firefighter fell into a canyon and broke his leg. His rescue required a Coast Guard helicopter. In an incident unrelated to the wildfire, a house caught on fire down the road from where they were stationed. An elderly man wandered away from home, leaving his family terrified that he had been caught in the wildfire (he wasn’t). Three traffic collisions occurred that required firemen to be present. And, finally, as Mark was flown by helicopter to survey the fire in his designated area, a warning light came on in the cockpit, and the pilot had to make an emergency landing. All of this happened in the midst of the regular operations needed to contain a 100,000-acre wildfire.Mark said, “Finally, around 8:30 in the evening things slowed down, and I could catch my breath. I was extremely tired, stressed and very ticked off at God for making me go through all of that. I had the classic ‘Why me?’ attitude.” He sat on the tailgate of his truck, feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. Noticing the box of sack lunches that had been prepared by a local church, Mark reached for a paper bag, realizing that he hadn’t eaten all day.
The very first thing I pulled out was a small piece of green cardstock. Written in a child’s handwriting in black crayon was, “Thanks, Love Allison.” I bowed my head and wept. Then I heard the still, small voice of Holy Spirit. He gently said, “Son, you forgot why you were here. All of these things happened today because I knew you would handle them. That’s why I put you here. You forgot that it’s not about you…it’s about them, and you bringing My love to them.”I brokenly asked Him, “How did I show them Your love? It was all crazy and fast and, truth be told, I never even thought about You.”He replied, “You were here—where I wanted you to be.” Then the Lord said, “I want you to take Communion here and now, and I want you to remember Me.”
Mark reached into his sack lunch and pulled out some Ritz crackers and a bottle of Gatorade. In the middle of a major fire, he took Communion and remembered why he was doing what he was doing. “Ever since that day, whenever I get angry or fearful, I remember. I remember a card written in crayon from a nine-year-old girl. I remember how much He loves me. And I take Communion in remembrance of Him.”