Last Communion

On Friday I participated in a man’s last communion. It was something that I never thought I’d ever be doing, yet there I was, with another pastor, ministering a man through his death. It was unlike anything else in the world. The man ended up passing away that evening and the funeral services are this week.

It was one of those moments where being a “youth pastor” was superceded by being a “man of God.” At least that is what “qualified” me to be with these people at this time. What was amazing to me is that people looked to me like I knew what was going on, like I could handle this. The only thing I had a handle on was the assurance that another pastor was going to be there, and he knew what to do. In the moments that I was there alone, before my pastor friend arrived, I came to see in a real and fresh way what it meant to be fully present. Nobody expected me to do anything, they just appreciated my being there. I simply visited, prayed, participated in some of a disciple’s last hours on earth.

Just another day? No way.


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