Often our experiences during the sacrament service seem quite ordinary. However, partaking of the sacrament is one of the most important and sacred ordinances in which we can participate. Here are four ways we can get more from the sacrament and "always remember him and keep his commandments. . . that [we] may always have his spirit to be with [us]" (D&C 20:77-79).
In the [sacrament] prayer we are coaxed—no, commanded—to remember. Remember. As our minds soar across the millennia, we find there is so much to remember about Him that we in turn should exemplify ourselves. We remember His love for all—not just the attractive or powerful or wealthy or righteous. We remember His desire to do the Father’s will always—not just when it was convenient or easy. We remember the battle against evil that He waged in Gethsemane and that He fought until He won—no matter the cost. And we remember His complete devotion to righteousness. We remember, and we offer our own hearts, trusting Him to be with us every step of the way.
As we wait reverently, the emblems are passed to each one there assembled. Everyone has the opportunity to partake, for in the Lord’s kingdom, not a single one is overlooked. Each is invited. Through some infinite eternal arithmetic that our mere mortal minds cannot grasp, the power of the Savior’s Atonement reaches out to touch us in a unique way, carried tenderly by deacons—the smallest and weakest, for those moments each Sunday made strong enough to help deliver salvation.
In our partaking, we remember Him, and we anxiously hope to become acceptable. In our weekly taking of the emblems of His flesh and blood, we are helped in that quest, becoming clean once again. And we do remember Him. For Him, the cup was bitter—the most anguished any has ever been asked to sip. Had it been up to Him, and Him alone—had not innumerable souls hung in the balance, had not He stood unwavering in that great and crowning council—perhaps He would have turned from that bitter cup with its horrific dregs. But it was not up to Him alone, because His very life—His will, His purpose, all that He was—reflected in perfect oneness the will of the Father whose Son He was. And so, exercising every fiber of His remarkable strength and courage, He drank of that bitter cup so that we would not have to. Instead, the cup from which we drink each week is clean and pure—quenching manna to our hungry spirits, yearning to be fed by all that He is.
When the cool, clear water touches our lips, we might remember that His experience was far different. Exhausted, bruised, His flesh torn, He hung in agony and must have trembled with a thirst unlike any we could know. No relief came—only a sponge soaked in acrid vinegar was pressed to His parched lips—until He gave up the ghost and declared, “It is finished” (John 19:30).