The Sacrament {1 Corinthians 10-11}

When Christ introduced the sacrament to the twelve apostles for the first time {Luke 22:19-20} and  then to the Nephites a few days later in America, {3 Nephi 18: 6-11}he told them that the point of the sacrament was to remember him.

Paul brings up in {1 Corinthians 11} that we shouldn't partake of the sacrament if we feel we have been unworthy. Christ taught this in America too and told the apostles that they should forbid those to take until they have repented. {3 Nephi 18} This may seem harsh, but Paul teaches that doing this will give us a chance to return and improve instead of being in the world. 

For me, the sacrament is a recharge. I'm like a set of old rechargeable batteries that don't last very long. At the beginning of the week, I'm running at full speed and feeling great. But then I mess up. Again, and again, and again. By the end of the week, I'm barely hanging on and I'm feeling worn. Sunday comes, and I partake of the simple ordinance of the sacrament, and I become clean all over again. I remember. I remember what my Savior did for me and I feel so blessed that I can start new. Even though I will fall short again, he will make up the rest.

What the sacrament means to me:

Except from "Believing Christ" By Stephen E. Robinson

"I was sitting in a chair reading. My daughter, Sarah, who was seven years old at the time, came in and said, “Dad, can I have a bike? I’m the only kid on the block who doesn’t have one.”

Well, I didn’t have the money then for a bike, so I stalled her. I said, “Sure, Sarah.”

She said, “How? When?”

I said, “You save all your pennies, and soon you’ll have enough for a bike.” And she went away.

A couple ofs weeks later I was sitting in the same chair when I heard a “clink, clink” in Sarah’s bedroom. I asked, “Sarah, what are you doing?”

She came to me with a little jar, a slit cut in the lid, and a bunch of pennies in the bottom. She said, “You promised me that if I saved all my pennies, pretty soon I’d have enough for a bike. And, Daddy, I’ve saved every single one of them.”

My heart melted. My daughter was doing everything in her power to follow my instructions. I hadn’t actually lied to her. If she saved all of her pennies, she would eventually have enough for a bike, but by then she would want a car. I said, “Let’s go look at bikes.”

We went to every store in town. Finally we found it—the perfect bicycle. She was thrilled. Then she saw the price tag, and her face fell. She started to cry. “Oh, Dad, I’ll never have enough for a bicycle!”

So I said, “Sarah, how much do you have?”

She answered, “Sixty-one cents.”

“I’ll tell you what. You give me everything you’ve got and a hug and a kiss, and the bike is yours.” Then I drove home very slowly because she insisted on riding the bike home.

As I drove beside her, I thought of the atonement of Christ. We all desperately want the celestial kingdom. We want to be with our Father in Heaven. But no matter how hard we try, we come up short. At some point all of us must realize, “I can’t do this by myself. I need help.” Then it is that the Savior says, in effect, All right, you’re not perfect. But what canyou do? Give me all you have, and I’ll do the rest.

He still requires our best effort. We must keep trying. But the good news is that having done all we can, it is enough. We may not be personally perfect yet, but because of our covenant with the Savior, we can rely onhis perfection, and his perfection will get us through."

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I think as we realize we each are just trying to get by with our 61 cents we've earned, we realize how badly we need the atonement by partaking of the sacrament each week. We go to church not to show off how awesome and righteous we are, but to stagger in with our 61 cents in desperation for our Savior to help make up the rest. Then I remember what my Savior has done for me, and I feel motivated to keep on trekking along. That is why I rely so heavily on the sacrament and why I love the gospel of Jesus Christ.