Dental Theology, by Kim Thoday

At the Last Supper, Jesus Christ said to his disciples: “This piece of bread is my flesh. Eat it.” Recently, I have understood this in a new way. It is not the only way. It is another way. Perhaps it is, for me, a revelation. I think there is a level at which Jesus knew his friends were not fully conscious. Not really conscious of what was happening as a result of his ministry and mission. I think Jesus wanted something that would not only foretell the future, but would also help the disciples live fully in the present moment. He also told them: ‘This is my blood. Drink it.” Jesus invited them to feast upon his grace and love right then and there. To savour him – the real bread, and the real wine. To savour the presence/ present Bread, in light of its future absence. Something can only be present in relationship to its potential absence. Love can only truly be known in a dialectical relationship to non-love. Peace can only be understood once lack of peace or non-peace or war has been anticipated or experienced or imagined. Joy is felt in contrast to states of melancholy or depression. Faith and Doubt are dependent upon each other.

For Jesus, the Kingdom of God, that is, God’s gifts of love, peace, joy and faith were there amongst them, to be found in that Supper, in their fellowship, in their humanity, in their shared experiences, in their memories and hopes. They just had to stop and look and listen and be fully present to the grace of these presences in light of the potential absence of the presences, that is the potential reality of evil in the absences. To be fully present to God’s grace is like looking into the eyes of a child. It is like looking up at the night sky and knowing our connection with the cosmos. It is like going through the agony of severe tooth- ache and with the grace of dental technology, experiencing and appreciating the peace that comes of non-tooth ache.

I once heard of a doctor who woke up in the middle of the night and in the darkness used the wrong drops for her eyes. A few months later she was not able to see anything. Every time she wants to remember the lines on her young son’s face, she has to call him close and rediscover the shape of his face with her fingers. To be able to see things again, she says, would be paradise. So, with this in mind, for most of us who are capable of seeing, we are already in paradise. Open your eyes and see the blue skies, the mystery of the gum tree, the care of a friend, the little old lady in your congregation who prays every day for your ministry. And live with gratitude after all for dentists.

Kim Thoday, Hewett Community Church of Christ, South Australia

http://www.hewett.org.au