The ONE Loaf


1 COR. 10:17.

THE twilight hour, when all the world doth dream,
I stand amid
The ripening grain, the ripples, like the bosom of
a lakeimages
Beneath the evening breeze. I pluck, and idly hold
within
My hand, one golden ear, the while in swift succession
pass
Strange visions of the olden time: I see a threshing-
floor,—
The wheat by wooden flail bereft of chaff and shining
husk.
The scene is changed: I see a woman grinding at
a mill,—
Between the upper and the nether stones the grain is
crushed
Until no semblance of its former state remains, but
each
Is merged into one common whole,—a coarse and
homely meal.
Another picture,—mixed with water and with salt
a loaf,
Or flattened cake, is formed and laid upon the glow-
ing coals.

And as I gaze my thoughts are lifted to a higher
plane;
I see “the members of His body,” like the golden
grain,
Denuded of their glittering robes of earthly pride and
fame;
The upper and the nether stones of life’s vicissitudes
Are slowly, surely, grinding rich and poor, the high,
the low,
Into one common-union,—heart and mind, and zeal
and love;jk
With purifying salt, life-giving water of the Word,
The mass is being drawn and held and moulded in
“one loaf.”

Ah, then, beloved, when we drink of that memorial
cup,
And eat the symbol of His flesh, let us partake with
joy,
Nor marvel if we need that strange, transforming
power of fire,
Ere we are counted worthy to be like our Lord and
Head,
And “broken” that a hungry, fainting, dying world
be fed!

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