Tasting eternity

I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever, and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh. (John 6:51)

It was a moment of eternity. But then, so is every moment, for Eternal Love is always present, though not always palpable. But this day, at least for a moment, eternity engulfed everything in its wake, washing over our little lives as we held each other not wanting to let go.

I started to step back from our goodbye hug when Ben pulled me again into his broad shoulders at the end of an afternoon together. He released his grip slightly only to pull me back a second time.

‘Thank you, Grandpa,’ he said, then kept repeating, ‘thank you, thank you, thank you.’ I lost track of how many times. Standing eye-to-eye, hands on each other’s shoulders, our eyes locked as he thanked me once more for the gift Dixie and I had given to help with his education.

And then, I knew, it was time for me to say something worthy of the moment, although almost nothing is. All one can do, if speech is possible, is stumble out whatever words you have, knowing they can never bear love’s infinite weight or endless longing.

Nor can they convey the joy of giving a gift, something of the substance—the flesh and blood—of your life, freely giving from your heart to one whose life will go on, I pray with hot tears, long after ours are done and this restless heart of mine rests, finally, in a Heart far greater than my own.

But in this moment, as eternity engulfed time, we were home, believing (as I do) the mystery that (however consciously—or not) we ate the bread of heaven. The Eternal Love who becomes flesh and blood in time and space became flesh and blood in us that we might taste … and, God help us, become the Love we most need … and crave, the Love our longing eyes expressed more fluently than any words can.

Love took us over, the Eternal Love incarnate in the flesh and blood of Jesus, breaking down walls, obliterating our separateness and awakening the sweet pain and pleasure of being truly human souls, tasting eternity yet aching for more of the Boundless Love who gives life to the world.

David L. Miller