Audition vs Communion (Essay)

By Amirah David

I've been preparing for a musical theater audition all week, scrutinizing how every note sounds, every gesture. Is it natural enough? Bold enough? Good enough? And then, in the middle of it, it dawned on me that communion is the actual opposite of an audition.

And we are always auditioning. Yes, there's the standard prep for a play, when we live in the oxymoron of desperately trying to show off what we can do while striving to look as natural as possible. But then there is the audition of the job interview, trying to sound confident and maybe stretch the truth to fit what they want so we can feed our family. Or the audition of dating, hoping to be desired, so we dress the part or laugh too loud or hold back an opinion to seem more agreeable. And then there are the more subtle auditions - the kid with the report card hoping to get a "well done" from his dad. The girl starting high school putting on 9 outfits to thread the impossible needle of fitting in while also still trying to be herself. The hundreds of small lies we tell to keep people from seeing the parts of us we're sure they'd reject, which leaves us unbearably lonely.

Trying. Striving. Hiding. And, hoping.

So why is communion the opposite of all that?

(1 Corinthians 11:24-26) reads: "This is my body, which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me." And then: "This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me. For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes." 

The world tells us to prove we are worthy, and then to keep proving it, because there is never any assurance - at any moment we could blow it, or lose it. But this table says there is nothing to prove. The old covenant asked of us what we could never deliver. The new covenant is God delivering it Himself, and then handing us bread. A one way street, from Him to us. Grace.

Notice what we are asked to do. Not achieve. Not muster. Remember. And notice what he says: "This is my body, which is FOR you." Not because of you. FOR you. He performed it. He also knew we would forget, over and over again, because the pull of all our auditions clouds our sight from the purity and simplicity of the gospel. That's why he says "as often as you drink it." He expected this to be often.

And notice WHO we are asked to remember. "Do this in remembrance of ME." Not in remembrance of how we're doing. Remember HIM, and less about ourselves - again, the opposite of auditioning. I know I can go whole days without looking up, so to speak, to remember the most important, transformative, protective, nourishing relationship of my whole life, the source of my life and healer of my broken soul and redeemer of the whole world - because there are late tax bills, and crusty dishes staring at me, and legos carpeting the house, and baseball practice, and disagreements with my husband, and sick kids, and on and on.

When we audition, we are out there alone, begging for approval. When we come to this table, we are in the deepest intimacy of our lives. Known and loved. Not alone. Jesus said something totally radical and unheard of: "As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever feeds on me, he also will live because of me" (John 6:57). And later: "I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst" (John 6:35).

I'm not sure I'll ever understand in this life what it actually means to abide in Christ and have him abiding in me. But I DO know that when I remember that miracle - that HE performed it FOR us - something changes in my striving. I have more patience for the legos. More grace for the people in my house. This is what it is to be securely attached to someone: to stop checking, every day, whether you are still wanted. It is the true source of confidence. Worth without arrogance, humility without self-deprecation.

He loved ME enough, he loved YOU enough, to become human, to die brutally, to take ALL our mistakes and ALL our sins to the grave, to pay ALL our most significant debts, and to free us to an eternity of goodness and communion, unbroken.

So you will never have to audition for God's love and approval. It is already finished. It was finished before you were born. We have sinned, we have blown the audition, and we are eternally loved anyway, and valued anyway, and forgiven. You are not reading for this part. You were cast a long time ago.

So come and remember. Take Him into your body, into your heart, into your soul. Let Him nourish you. Abide, and rest.

Let's take the bread and the cup together. It is a celebration of baptism (death of the false/alone self, the birth of the new united-self as we were meant to be, and the most important wedding of our lives)!