Have you ever had to wear an eye patch? I have; but the reason for it isn’t important, but the patch itself can have some interesting effects. Small children know immediately that you’re a pirate, who is either terrifyingly wicked or really cool.
Sometimes fantasy and reality come together like that. We even choose to have this happen whenever we go to the theater and see a play, or go to the movies. The playwright depends upon “suspension of disbelief.” It means that you are “into” the play, but not in the play. If Shakespeare is done, you might find yourself watching an actor who proclaims himself to be (for example) Henry V. You know he isn’t, but you accept that; you suspend your disbelief and permit him to be Henry in your mind, for a while.
This happens with us, too. A friend in the medical profession told me that she put on her “professional mask” each day; warm, sympathetic, caring—and uninvolved. Otherwise, the stress of dealing with so much misery would overwhelm her.
We do the same. We are players on the world’s stage, and most of us have a mask. We don’t let this mask down, for then people would know who we really are. Our mask hides our problems but allows our success to shine through.
We come now to the time when the mask should be dropped. There is no sense keeping it up during Communion; the Playwright (God) knows it all anyway. In Communion we meet the real Christ; He said “this is my body” and “this is my blood.” Would you meet the One upon whom reality itself depends, trying to hide your reality from Him? Drop the mask at His feet; may it be the real you that now seeks the real Christ.
