It was only few years ago that Paul came to Troas without a plan for all his plans failed to pan out. No synagogues in Asian or Bithynia opened their doors to him. He thought it was punishment for his brash breaking away from Barnabas. After all, it was Barnabas that fished him out of the anonymity of Tarsus and got him a job at the church in Antioch when no one wanted to take a chance on him because he had a record as far as Christians were concerned.
So he stood at the dock where huge ships from Italy and Greece came in. The Aegean sea came in gently and then rammed against the boats and the barges. In that swirling blue he saw a man begging him to come to Macedonia. The next dawn he got on the earliest departing boat.
Who would have imagined that he would come back here, and there would be believers who gathered every Sunday.
Paul takes the bread and breaks it and says, This is by body!
The people around this table are also the body of Christ. There is Timothy and Gaius, Aristarchus and Secundus from Thessalonica where he got kicked around a bit. So many good friends. If not for this table, they would be strangers thinking they had nothing in common.
Paul then pours crimson wine into the cup, This is my blood!
He is a murderer turned missionary. Where would he be if not for Jesus' blood?
He continues, Do this in remembrance of me.
So this is how Jesus must have felt in his last supper, Paul imagines for this also would be his last supper with the believers at Troas.
He is fights back the tears as he receives bread from an elder he had ordained.
Here he is, breaking bread at the city of his brokenness, surrounded by the people he has come love more than himself, people from all the cities he labored at, people who were so broken that they were ready to be made whole.
The bread melts on Paul's tongue. He has never tasted a bread more sweet in its plainness.