We catch ourselves in motion, stopped by the light, or by the lack of it. Strange how catastrophes unite. Strange how they divide as soon as we realize there are sides to take and be taken by.

This small thing, this power outage in our town is no catastrophe, but it might as well be. I'm grateful for my simple lifestyle suddenly, by the presence of candles that smell of apple cider, cranberries, or a cheap waxy substance. Our home is lit with an orange glow. I wish it could be like this all the time. Surely candles are cheaper than electric bills?

'We're all socialists already' I read in an article recently. Someone spouting off about how if we can dial 911 and share a water main with our neighbor than in some way we're already biting off the socialist sandwich and why not bite more? I haven't thought that one through yet. I'd rather not because I like having water and the knowledge that should I need it, emergency care is three numbers away. But mostly I haven't thought through it because I tend toward all or nothing in my convictions and there are only so many fine lines I can walk these days.

"This is My body, take eat. Sip of this, you who will doubt Me, you who will deny Me in three sentences, you who are denying Me already with your silver coins rattling against your robe. You think Me a fool? You think that you all walk away from this experience unchanged by one another and Me? You think that that these years are compartmentalized into tidy chapters and smooth transitions?

I'm here to tell you that if you Take Eat that you share in My sufferings every day from here on out. There is no shoulder you brush against in a crowd who will not be touched by Me by some degree, no person whose calamity you will not take on, no cup of cold water that will not be offered in My name. We're all socialists now. So take eat. This is My body. This is My blood."

When I think of that Jesus, the one who said in this life you will have sorrows, things like power outages and starving children and brothers sent off to war and friends who cry often, these things that unite us, only unite us because He drank the cup first.

We, all of us, we're just poseurs. Thinking that our suffering unites us, thinking that our agony victimizes us, sure that our poverty deems us worthy of recompense. We're all catastrophes and this is what unites us. A conglomeration of sinners, socialists because we think there is no other way than to depend on one another for our bread and supply.

And He still says: Take Eat, this is My body. Take in my sufferings and because I'm the Only One who can deliver you from yours.

September 2009