A young man returned from military duty in the Middle East. For several months, he had served in a place of great danger, in very unfamiliar and uncomfortable surroundings. When he talked about his joy upon being home, he talked of the simplest things. His recliner fit like a glove, and his bed was nothing short of luxurious comfort. He played ball with his son for an hour, and enjoyed his favorite meal across the table from his wife. The touch of her hand, he said, was beyond description. The greatest comfort he'd ever known wasn't anything elaborate. The greatest comfort was simply being home. It was the comfort of having familiar surroundings after a very dangerous journey.
The disciples and the close-knit circle around Jesus thought they had lost Jesus. They had called him Messiah, and life had been wonderful when Jesus was around. Suddenly, there was the cross, and it was all over. The grave sealed their hopes, and the comfort was shattered.
Then came the cry - "He's alive!" - and Jesus was in their midst. He came with open hands, standing among them, fixing their breakfast, walking with them, encouraging them, thrilling them, leaving them with the smiles of a man come home from war.
Wherever you've been, the Lord's Supper is an opportunity to come home. The battle might have been difficult, and you might not have won every fight. But here is forgiveness, and grace ... and the open arms of home.
