The Surrender at the Communion Rail

THE SURRENDER AT THE COMMUNION RAIL
By
Rick England

There is a little known powerful story about General Robert E. Lee. It happened on a beautiful Sunday morning in June 1865 in Richmond, Virginia. Saint Paul’s Episcopal Church was filling up with people. The priest prepared to deliver the message and provide communion to the congregation. He was unprepared for what was about to happen.

Outside the church, occupying federal troops were present. Some soldiers were ex-slaves, posted to uphold civil order. It was a city of people that were bitter, humiliated, and who bore physical and spiritual wounds of war. It was that empty seat at the dinner table, the empty bed upstairs, or that still divided home - where brother fought against brother - that kept the wounds afire.

Inside St. Paul’s Episcopal Church the people were no different. The physical injuries were obvious, and the depth of broken spirits were sometimes seen in tears or heard as a groan. The church was at full capacity, and with each member, there was a painful story. That includes General Lee, dressed in a nice gray confederate uniform, stripped of all insignia as commanded by military decree.

General Lee had emotional wounds, too. He had led scores of his countrymen into battle. He had lost his dearest General, Thomas Jackson (known as Stonewall Jackson), and then there was Gettysburg. Lee’s charge at Cemetery Ridge left between 46,000 and 51,000 American’s dead in three days. He felt deep remorse for the outcome and admitted it was entirely his fault. He offered his resignation in a letter to President Jefferson Davis, but it was refused.

Jefferson Davis ordered General Lee to defend Richmond, and he lost. Now he sat in a church in that Union occupied city two months after his surrender to General Grant. All he had left were the memories of a lost cause, defeat, and humiliation.

General Lee had lost more than just the war. He lost his personal property at Arlington, Virginia, taken by the nation and turned into a federal cemetery. His financial losses were significant. Moreover, he had lost his American citizenship.

There was every reason for General Lee to be angry and hurt about the war being lost. But he showed no outward sign of it. Just after the surrender at Appomattox Court House, he told his solders to go home and be good Americans.

One would think he would be blamed for losing the war, and there were people who did that. However, there were many who still looked to him for leadership, in that Richmond church and elsewhere. There were those who continued to admire him, watched him closely, and sought his wisdom.

At Saint Paul’s church, songs and prayers came forth that worshipped Jesus Christ. Soon came the moment for communion, the time when believers concentrate on the reconciliation provided by the cross, and to partake of the Lord’s Supper while kneeling at the communion rail.
Then it happened.

A well-dressed African-American man rose and walked quickly to the communion rail. He knelt and waited for the sacraments.

The audience froze.

There were gasps.

There was a recent time when a black man would have been dragged out of the church and arrested for disturbing the peace. In those days, the blacks could only come from the balcony and receive communion after the white members had been served. Now he came – and he was first. This was a deliberate break in status quo.

The clock ticked as people waited for direction, movement. The priest provided no leadership. But then there was one who responded.

At that moment as the intensity peaked, an older man in a gray suit stood up from his pew. He walked to the communion rail and reverently knelt beside the black man. The congregation witnessed the unthinkable. General Robert E. Lee took communion with a black man at the communion rail. The rest of the congregation slowly followed, and one by one they walked to the communion rail, knelt, and took the sacraments.

After services, the unknown man disappeared, not ever seen again. But he left a hurting church that had now taken the first step to reconciliation and healing. General Lee had once again led a noble charge, but this time he was victorious. In an odd way, his surrender at that communion rail was a victory with grace and forgiveness.

If Robert E. Lee can gracefully surrender his feelings of guilt, racial bias, bitterness, anger, or humiliation, why can’t we do the same? As the hymn proclaims:

All to Jesus I surrender;

all to him I freely give;

I will ever love and trust him,

in his presence daily live.

I surrender all,

I surrender all,

all to thee, my blessed Savior,

I surrender all.

We need to take everything that has hurt us, disappointed us, or even humiliated us and follow General Lee’s example. Just surrender it all to our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

The time to give it up is now!

******
References:

For additional information about Robert E. Lee, and this event, see America's God and Country: Encyclopedia of Quotations by William Joseph Federer, page 367.

See also, Virginia's Civil War by Peter Wallenstein, Bertram Wyatt-Brown, page 286.

Both books can be purchased from: www.amazon.com.