Lenten Devotion: Maundy Thursday, April 5

by Julian Rush

O the Depth of Love Divine
United Methodist Hymnal #627
Words: Charles Wesley, 1745 (Jn. 6:35-38)
Music: Carlton R. Young, 1986

1
O the depth of love divine,
the unfathomable grace!
Who shall say how bread and wine
God into us conveys!
How the bread his flesh imparts,
how the wine transmits his blood
fills his faithful people’s hearts
with all the life of God!
2
Let the wisest mortals show
how we the grace receive;
feeble elements bestow
a power not theirs to give.
Who explains the wondrous way,
how through these virtues came?
These the virtue did convey,
yet still remain the same.
3
How can spirits heavenward rise,
by earthly matter fed,
drink here with divine supplies
and eat immortal bread?
Ask the Father’s wisdom how:
Christ who did the means ordain;
angels round our altars bow
to search it out, in vain.
4
Sure and real is the grace,
the manner be unknown;
only meet us in thy ways
and perfect us in one.
Let us taste the heavenly powers,
Lord, we ask for nothing more.
Thine to bless, ’tis only ours
to wonder and adore.

What actually occurs in the act of Holy Communion? Some believe the bread literally becomes the body of Christ upon ingestion, just as the wine becomes Christ's blood. At the opposite end of the spectrum is a belief that the elements are simply a symbol to remind one of the significance of Christ. The common denominator, of course, is one's recognition of communion as a deeply meaningful experience and practice.

In this hymn, “O the Depth of Love Divine,” Charles Wesley expresses the wonder one is able to discover in Holy Communion. The love and acceptance God has for us, as Wesley describes, is “the unfathomable grace,” or in contemporary words, the experience of God accepting us and working within us.

As a high school sophomore, I attended a Methodist camp meeting in southern Mississippi, where something happened. I don't recall any words or messages from the evening service, but I lay awake most of that night contemplating my existence for the first time. I emerged from that “wrestling with my angel” with a decision to go into ministry. Some might consider my experience implausible, but there was no “hocus pocus” about it for me. Whatever took place that night was real and still is. Somehow I opened myself up to God in a way I had never had before, and, to my surprise, something happened! And what happens with each of us personally during the act of Holy Communion can be real as well. The miracle of God working within us, in Wesley's words, is “only ours to wonder and adore.”

The message delivered by Wesley in “Come, Sinner, to the Gospel Feast” is intrinsically connected with the Holy Communion experience. God accepts us, all of us, just as we are. We are all worthy of God's love—an idea which is difficult for us twenty-first century creatures to buy when we are so constantly bombarded with images of unworthiness: too-thin people, fat people, poor people, ridiculously rich people, sick people, old people, people different in skin color or culture or nationality or religious or political persuasion or, god forbid, orientation! Unconditional acceptance is not an easy concept for us to entertain, but Wesley's hymn, even today, hammers the message home. We are loved and accepted.

The poor, maimed, and blind of Christ's day are included in the gospel feast, just as all the unworthies of our own time must be as well. God loves and accepts us all. The message is timeless. We are still being invited to the feast, and if we open ourselves to that invitation, something might actually happen!

Dear God, during this Lenten season, help me to remember that I am loved; I am accepted; I am worthy. Enable me to open my heart and mind and my life to You. Then, help me to be very, very still and to listen patiently. In Christ's name, Amen.