“This is my body...this is my blood poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.” (Matt. 26:27-28)

Strapping on crampons for a glacier hike in Alaska, I noticed the backpack of the woman next to me. Trim size. Attractive colors. North Face - a label symbolizing everything my off-brand backpack did not, an outdoorsy status, an exclusivity I wanted to identify with. The beauty of the glacier fought for my attention.

What does a Tesla symbolize for you? An AppleWatch? Think about your cross necklace or wedding band. Does an American flag fluttering in the breeze get you misty-eyed with patriotism? 

“A rose is a rose is a rose.” With apologies to Gertrude Stein, no, it’s not. Roses have come to represent so much more: budding romance, fragrant love, thorns of disagreements. Symbols - a flower, a watch, a backpack - start as ordinary things which, over time, get imbued with layers of significance, perhaps because we seek a deeper meaning to our ordinary existence. This is hardly a new phenomenon. St. Augustine said, “Symbols are powerful because they are the visible signs of invisible realities.” The symbolic layers build up, adding meaning beyond the literal, and maybe our own identity gets tied up in there as well. 

Passover, an historical event, became a symbol and identity marker for the Jews. Passover memorialized God’s miraculous deliverance of them from bondage in Egypt and symbolized their status as the special people of God. The literal blood on the doorpost came to symbolize God’s past, present, and future protection and redemption. The literal meal came to symbolize God’s provision for their physical needs. 

Before His crucifixion, Jesus shared a Passover meal with His disciples, but He deliberately refocused the symbolism. Jesus imbued the wine and bread with significance only His death and resurrection would make clear: this deliverance is not from a literal Egypt, but from a symbolic Egypt, the place of sin-bondage we all experience. This redemption is not exclusive; it is for all who will believe. “This is my body... my blood poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” (vs.27-28, emphasis added). 

The church has continued what Jesus commanded us to do: participate in a communal meal full of symbolism. The elements nourish us physically but also spiritually. We take His death symbolically into ourselves, remembering His sacrifice: His life for mine. I live in and for Him.

Ordinary elements - a backpack, a flag, a ring, wine and bread - can become so much more than their literal selves. The longer we gaze at the item, the more it means to us. The more it reflects our values and aspirations, the more precious it becomes. Bread and wine are so much more than just food and drink. Ordained by Christ Himself, the symbolic becomes sacred. 

Symbols tell stories of what they’re attached to. Symbols change how we see ourselves and how others see us. I did buy a North Face backpack and will ‘fess up to hoping others notice :). How much more worthy, though, of my attachment and identification are symbols of what Christ did for me. May I gaze steadily at The Table, pondering the layers of meaning the cup and bread hold for me. May I take those elements sacredly, gaining closer communion with God, His nourishment strengthening me to share my faith with others.