In the summer of 1985, I participated in a celebration of the Lord’s Supper at Arbutus Park Retirement Community in Johnstown. (I spent that summer working as a member of Arbutus Park’s program staff). Sitting beside me in that worship service was Ruth Physaglia, a 75-year-old woman who was in the advanced stages of Alzheimer’s Disease.
Ruth didn’t talk much. But she sang—a lot. The problem with her singing was that there was only one song in her repertoire. That song was this:
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.”
Ruth sang that song over and over again, sometimes a hundred-and-one times a day. It was her love song to life, I suppose, the last vestige of a once vibrant personality. I never heard Ruth sing any other song—except once. During the Communion service, the chaplain came to Ruth with the bread and cup (as she quietly sang “You are my sunshine.”) Ruth stared at the elements for a little while. Then, in a split-second, she changed her tune. The change sounded something like this:
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are…………….Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so. Little ones to him belong. They are weak but he is strong.”
Tears began to form in the eyes of Ruth Physaglia as she came to the chorus. “Yes, Jesus loves me. Yes, Jesus loves me. Yes, Jesus loves me. The Bible tells me so.”
It was the first and last time that I heard Ruth sing those words. In fact, it was the first and last time that I heard her sing anything other than “You Are My Sunshine.”
Why had she changed her tune so suddenly? Who knows? But my personal conviction is that it had something to do with the living presence of Jesus Christ, making its way into Ruth’s soul through the bread and cup of the Lord’s Supper, in such a way that not even Alzheimer’s Disease could distort the profundity of the moment.
Such is the mystical power of Eucharist, I suppose. When believers partake of the bread and cup, Jesus finds his way into human souls, transforming lives and inspiring people to change their tune in all kinds of significant ways.
On this World Communion Sunday, I thank God for my memory of Ruth Physaglia. She speaks to me from my past and, in spirit, joins me at the Lord’s table.
Thanks for sharing.
Amen! Christ is revealed in the breaking of the bread! What a great story!
Great testimony.
And who knows, maybe she meant Jesus when she was singing “YOU are my sunshine.”
Eric,
As one of your congregants, I am able to share first-hand experience at just how eloquent and moving your sermons are.
This past Sunday I once again got to witness a man who is totally devoted to Jesus.
Eric, you are indeed an inspiration to me and many others. I regularly wonder just what amazing and wonderful things God has in store for you. Such a treasure of Love for Christ, faith in God, devotion to the Church and an offering of your brilliance and kindness in the service of God’s will.
All of yesterday’s sermon was a blessing, but particularly for me was the message of the Lord’s Supper as a calling from Christ.
In the video presentation, the narrator was explaining how, when a young boy, his Mother would call out for him to come in for supper. Then, as a Christian many years later, he made the connection that this is exactly what Jesus is doing.
He is calling us in to Supper! To take part in Him once again. To embrace and savor the goodness of His love. Then, I heard these words and was moved to tears: Jesus is calling us home for Supper.
As tears welled up and my soul felt full I made the instant realization that the Eucharist, among all the wonderful things that it does within us, is also about forgivness. No matter that I may be a sinner unworthy of His love, He always calls to me and wants for me to come home.
As a Father I often reflect on my children and just what they mean to me. I think of special times we have shared. I remember especially when they act of their own accord and for no apparent reason reach out to me and show me that they love me. A sweet and precious love that is for me the very meaning of life.
This love, the love that makes one know that they would be willing go to their deaths to protect their child, is, I believe, the same love that Christ felt for His children when He so willingly went to His death so that we might be protected from sin and spiritual death.
Finally, as I noted above how special it is to me when my children show me their love for no apparent reason, I believe that this must also be the love that God holds so dear to His heart - when we show love to Him without a reason, without having something to ask for or being in a crisis. The very speical love between a Father and His child shared for the sake of Love itself without reservation or condition.
This must be the reason for creation itself.
In my opinion it is enough.
Blessings to you my dear Pastor.
Jerry
Thank you for your kind words, Jerry. They touch my heart.
You and your entire family are a treasure.