Communion in Dusseldorf: Receiving the Blessing of the Movable Feast

I prayed that the Spirit of the Lord Jesus join us to eat and drink with us, as he did with his disciples before his death, over 2000 years ago. I held the cup of Greek red wine and asked the Lord to transform it into Jesus' blood. I asked Henrik to join me. We touched the bread. We asked the Lord to transform it into Jesus' body, which was broken for us.

We confessed our sins to one another. I asked if Henrik needed to forgive anyone. I certainly did. It's good to let go and not be bitter.

We then gave thanks for what we were grateful for in our lives. I drank the wine. I tore the bread with my teeth. I handed the wine to Henrik, "The blood of Christ, spilt for you." I handed the bread to Henrik and said, "The body of Christ, broken for you."

After praying and drinking and eating, the Lord's spirit joined us to celebrate, after all Jesus was and is the King of rest and feasting. The room glowed brighter with a heavenly light. A sense of supernatural peace filled the room and kissed my soul. Time froze and flowed into eternity. An understanding of God's truth and love lingered in our hearts. I didn't know it then, but I received the blessing of the Movable Feast.

* * *

From Crete, I found a $74 flight to Dusseldorf, Germany, which took a threeand-a-half-hour, which included the luggage fee. Luckily, my friend Henrik was in town. I haven't seen him since 2016. We celebrated Christmas then.

Henrik was very hospitable and met me at the airport, where he took me to his home. The first thing about coming into Dusseldorf I noticed was that it was much more of a modern and industrious country than Greece. For instance, Henrik was talking about his job with the German stock market and how he was challenging share prices of the corporation. Only in the First World, do people discuss such things.

He treated me to dinner at a biergarten (beer garden) the first night. I had a schnitzel in a cream and mushroom sauce. We chatted about his life, his wife, his child, and his problems with church. I told him I had problems with church. I actually met him through a friend at a church I used to attend in Los Angeles. 

Henrik was really good about helping me sort out the rest of the trip and finding me a train ticket to Paris from Dusseldorf. I was going to take the speed train out of Dusseldorf to Paris. Henrik was excited for him, because he said the Thalys Train was an exciting ride.

During the day in Dusseldorf, I went to the bookstore to have coffee and write and read. I was still processing my incredible time in Greece.

The next night, Dusseldorf was warm. And Henrik showed me around downtown and taught me the history of the city. Dusseldorf has this huge modern clock tower, which displays the time like a digital watch. It's located near the ancient part of town. It really sends a message about the future and past coming together.

After eating döner kebabs (Turkish meat sandwich) and seeing the city, we partook in communion together, the ancient Christian ritual that we're commanded to do. It was amazing that me as a Korean-American and a German, who are separated by 5,482 miles, can practice the same ritual and experience God's goodness, as it was done over 2,000 years ago.

* * *

I was running late to get the 6-o'clock train to Paris. We went to the nearest supermarket, but there was only one cashier and a long line. I needed some food for my four hour journey. Some young Arab teenagers saw I was in a rush. I let them know I had a train to Paris. They insisted I cut in front of them. They had the warmest smiles and most welcoming attitude. They knew they were helping me on my journey forth. A bitter German lady behind them didn't seem too happy though.

Outside, it was 5pm. The sky was bright blue and the sun was full and it was hot. Henrik took me all the way to the train station. The Thalys Train was a bright ruby red.

I found my seat. We put my luggage in. Henrik stayed with me until the train departed. He started running with the train. It was very kind of him. I watched Henrik, until he disappeared from my window. At first he was at the right side of the window, and as the train outpaced him, he slid more left and left, until he disappeared.

* * *

I was thinking about the blessing of the movable feast on my train ride. What's a movable feast? The most important Jewish and Christian holidays, Passover and Easter, are movable feasts. They are celebrated on a different day each year. 

Most people probably think of blessing as wealth, health, and success. But I realized I was receiving a different blessing, one that celebrated life, hospitality, and eating and drinking. Life became one celebration, because there are times to celebrate. People who say religion is a set of rules don't understand that the Christian God is one of festivals, partying, and passion.

And the feast was movable. It was going with me to Paris. And I was going to invite others to join and celebrate and enjoy. I had a movable feast experience once in Stockholm, Sweden.

I realized now that the Movable Feast goes where the Spirit of the Lord is. And the time and place and people will change. But the spirit of celebration and joy is always the same, if you can catch and experience it.

* * *

While riding the train, I passed through Cologne and saw the Gothic cathedral out of the window. I spoke to the conductor in German. When they changed conductors, I spoke to him in French. I spoke on my cell phone in English, catching up with people back home. The train was going at 186 miles per hour. The people around me must have thought I was the strangest Asian guy.

There was fast WiFi onboard. I could see why Henrik said it was an enjoyable experience. It was faster than airplane, because you would have to check in and out. You have fast WiFi. You have a lot of space and a comfortable seat. And you get dropped off directly in the center of the city, instead of having to find transportation from the airport back into the city.

In the train, I switched out my reading books. I put in my luggage the book on a confederate war general. I pulled out of my luggage Ernest Hemingway's A Moveable Feast.

My train arrived at the (in)famous Gare Du Nord station in central Paris. When I exited the station, the streets smelled like urine. Everyone outside was from Africa, and there was no white people at Garde Du Nord at night, outside the train station. If you didn't know it was Paris, you would have thought you were in a capital city in Africa. I walked my way to my hostel with my luggage. 

I made it to Paris. The last time I was here was over 22 years ago.