New Believers Of God

CHAPTER TEN

The next day at CCD, I ended up right back in the church again.

There, we took a tour of it to be shown the numerous artifacts up close, such as the very front where the altar was, and the numerous statues of biblical figures. However, we also went down to the basement, where things were even more interesting. Very rarely did I ever come down here, except for Donut Sunday once a month.

First, Ms. Crane opened a large brass cabinet where the dishes and chalices were kept, including Father Stanley's own personal one with a signature white ring around it. This is what he always used during the masses.

Next, we were directed to the wine, or body of blood as it was called. I always found it kind of shocking how we were allowed to drink that at such a young age, but could never stand the taste. Even at my first communion I didn't bother receiving it.

Finally, we came to the bread, or body of Christ as it was called, sitting in a large plastic container on the counter. Thin, circular wafers, with a cross on each of them, is all they appeared as to me, yet somehow, we were supposed to believe that it was really him we were consuming. There are millions of churches throughout the whole world. How could so much of him possibly exist?

"Take this all of you and eat of it." Father Stanley would say "For this is my body, which will be given up for you."

Same with the wine. How can anyone possibly expect us to take an alcoholic beverage being passed off as blood seriously?

"Take this all of you and drink from it." Father Stanley would say "For this is the chalice of my blood, the blood of the new and eternal covenant, which will be poured out for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins. Do this in memory of me."

"Ms. Crane," I said, "I have a question."

"Yes Cole." she said back.

"Is that really the body of Christ?" I asked, pointing to the bread.

"Of course." she answered.

"But how is there so much of it? Won't we run out eventually?"

"Cole, it doesn't work that way. The bread isn't actually Jesus himself, it's blessed by his spirit, and as long as that spirit stays alive, we'll never run out."

"What about the wine?"

"Same thing. That's what he wanted his disciples to learn, to trust in him and accept his word."

"Why did he choose them?"

"Because they symbolized the fellowship and unity he wanted to be passed on. That he, as the Lord, was both the bread of life, and the lamb of sacrifice. So they would initiate the new covenant and continue to be used long after he was gone."

She then looked over at the two elements, then at us again.

"I think we've succeeded in that."

This ultimately taught me that when following a religion, not everything is always what it may seem. To those who don't, the body and blood are just regular bread and wine. To those who do though, it takes that kind of loyalty to believe what we are consuming truly is Jesus, not literally, but figuratively. Much like how the large wooden cross that hung from the ceiling wasn't really him either. In Christianity, it was simply a requirement.

Upon making our way back to the top floor, everybody exited out the door and passed the cup of holy water next to it. When we would leave the masses, we usually dipped our hands in this, then made the sign of the cross, but on this occasion, I guess they didn't find that necessary. I however decided there was no reason not to and did so just as I was walking outside, being the only one thoughtful enough.

"Thank you Cole." Miss Crane whispered to me.

The mystery of faith.