Sunday, while our community was celebrating communion on the beach, Amber and I were in Gainesville at the Vineyard listening to a local Episcopal priest teaching about and modelling communion from his tradition. Pretty cool. Anyway, I thought I'd repost an article I wrote last year on rethinking the Lord's Supper. Maybe at some point I'll write more on the topic like I promised...maybe. Here it is:Communion ReloadedIf you’re anything like me, and I think most of you are, your experience with the Lord’s Supper in church has been unremarkable at best. For most people who have grown up in the evangelical tradition, you probably recall the silver trays being passed around with little plastic cups of grape juice and stale matzo. An admonition to spend time in reflection and repentance was given, the passage from the last supper narrative was read, and then you took the elements with your family. Occasionally this pattern was repeated during a special occasion – Good Friday, Christmas Eve, at a special time of corporate prayer, or after a baptism – that possibly held greater significance than the monthly observance. But regardless of the occasion, the theological and experiential weight the Lord’s Supper bore was primarily about asking forgiveness for your own sin and remembering Jesus’ death and sacrifice on the cross.
Certainly there can be nothing wrong with remembering Jesus’ death on the cross and taking occasion to reflect on the areas where we fall short and are in need of restoration. However, as has been our pattern as a faith community in the past, I think we need to ask some hard questions of this aspect of Christian praxis and see where we are led.
There are two questions that stand out as commensurate to our task. First, has the practice of the Lord’s Supper we have traditionally practiced been in any way reductionistic? In other words, are we missing something? Second, is there anything we can learn from other Christian faith traditions that would enlighten us to a richer experience of worship? I think the obvious answer to both questions is “yes”, but equally obvious is the need for help discovering “how” and “what” we need to learn.
Before we can address these questions, however, a more fundamental question needs to be asked: Why even bother with celebrating the Lord’s Supper? That might be a little shocking to some, but for others it might be refreshing to hear someone actually ask it honestly. For those of us who have spent the past 1, 2, 5, or 10 years unpacking and repacking our formation as Christians (or human beings for that matter) it is a natural and fitting question. Why do we spend the time putting on this little show with bread and wine once a week or month? Is it
really that important in the scheme of things as followers of Jesus and a community of faith?
Of course, it’s tempting to just say, “Well, we do it because Jesus said so.” That’s not a bad answer, but excuse me for mimicking my two-year-old son,
why did Jesus say so? Did he just arbitrarily choose bread and wine? Why not meat and potatoes? Water and wood? Figs and mustard seeds? Did he really expect generations of his followers to do the
same thing and read the
same words to commemorate his death? Isn’t it just more important to love God and your neighbor and try to follow Jesus’ commands? After all, Jesus certainly didn’t anticipate his church inventing the
single-use, vacuum-sealed disposable communion container, did he? With all the theological reduction, practical weirdness, and just plain silliness the church gets itself into, why bother?
Good question. But it brings up an even deeper question that has to be posed. Maybe we should forget all about this church stuff and just focus on being better people. Certainly Jesus spent a lot of time demonstrating his distaste for the religious posturing of his day. He didn’t seem to care about pomp and ceremony, services and structure. But did he envision a social club for Christian spirituality that dabbles in following Jesus like you would dabble in organic gardening? Or a harrowing and gut level journey to discover a place in the renewed people of God? I have to believe it was the latter. The Church, for all its bumps and bruises, somehow always finds its compass pointing back to Jesus and his kingdom project.
Concerning the Lord’s Supper, I want to introduce a few ideas that may help answer the “why should we bother” question. First of all, in case you haven’t noticed, eating is a pretty important activity in the Bible. From the apple in the Garden to Jesus chowing with prostitutes and tax collectors, food carries biblical weight. When Jesus feasted with sinners, it wasn’t just to tick off the Pharisees. His feasts revealed something of kingdom reality.
“You'll watch outsiders stream in from east, west, north, and south and sit down at the table of God's kingdom. And all the time you'll be outside looking in--and wondering what happened. This is the Great Reversal: the last in line put at the head of the line, and the so-called first ending up last.” Luke 13:29,30 (1)
Throughout history, eating together has been a sign of acceptance and friendship. Jesus demonstrated his friendship with the worst of the sinners of his day, but he looked forward to a time when anyone who called him Lord would sit down for the Feast of Feasts.
But why did he ordain this particular meal, the bread and wine, to be repeated by his followers? A starting place might be to look at what this simple meal would mean to a first-century Jew. The Jews in Jesus’ day were inhabiting the land promised by God to Abraham, but in a real sense were still in exile. Dominated by Rome, factions of Jewish hierarchy fought over competing visions of how Israel might in fact become, once again, ruled by Yahweh and Yahweh alone. Was it by defeating Rome militarily and reclaiming political power? Was it by escaping into the wilderness and waiting until God destroyed their enemies? Or was it by becoming slick compromisers and grasping for every ounce of power that could be sucked from Rome’s grasp? To put it succinctly, Israel was undergoing an identity crisis of national proportions.
This was a world where symbols were much more integral to life than flags or monuments. For the Jews, the Temple carried the ultimate symbolic and existential weight. It was, after all, where God chose to set up shop with his people. Never mind that some Jews were less than thrilled that it was built by the murderous Herod and certainly was a shadow of Solomon’s glorious structure. The Temple
was the center of Jewish religion, politics, economy, military, and culture.
So consider the story of Jesus “cleansing the Temple”. Was this act just to demonstrate Jesus’ zeal for God and righteousness? If so, why couldn’t he have done the same thing at the downtown market? No, it was a direct challenge, an arrow in the heart if you will, to the prevailing idea of what it meant to be the people of God, to be Israel. N.T. Wright in The Challenge of Jesus reveals,
“His attitude to the Temple was not “this institution needs reforming,” nor “the wrong people are running the place,” nor yet “piety can function elsewhere too.” His deepest belief regarding the Temple was eschatological - the time had come for God to judge the entire institution. It had come to symbolize the injustice that characterized the society on the inside and on the outside, the rejection of the vocation to be the light of the world, the city set on a hill that would draw to itself all the peoples of the world.” (2)
Later that week, Jesus would gather with his disciples to celebrate the Passover meal, another intensely symbolic activity for the Jews. However, it would have been an innocuous event for a group of Jews in Jerusalem that night, if it weren’t for the fact they celebrated it on the
wrong night. Curious for lifelong Jews to be sure, but only the beginning of the subversive, symbolic images recorded in the gospels relating to that evening.
The Passover meal held double meaning for first century Jews. It certainly recalled their deliverance out of Egypt by the hand of God, but it also looked forward to their own final redemption, the coming of the kingdom and defeat of their enemies. Jesus, in celebrating this meal with his band of followers and using the elemental bread and wine, revealed his intentions to take Israel’s fate on his own shoulders. Instead of blood on the doorposts and dead first-born-sons, there would be a body broken and blood spilled on a cross.
“In this context the words that he spoke [during the last supper] suggest that Jesus was deliberately evoking the whole exodus-tradition and indicating that the hope of Israel would now come true in and through his own death. His death, he seems to be saying, must be seen within the context of the larger story of YHWH’s redemption of Israel; more specifically, it would be the central and climactic moment toward which that story had been moving. Those who shared the meal with him were the people of the renewed covenant, the people who received “the forgiveness of sins,” that is, the end of exile. Grouped around him, they constituted the true eschatological Israel.” (3)
When we take the Lord’s Supper, we aren’t just agreeing to a theological principle or performing a dutiful act of remembrance like laying flowers on a grave. The Lord’s Supper is a many-layered subversive and prophetic act that declares once and for all - the exile of God’s people is over. The kingdom of God has come and will culminate in a final feast where all the friends of Jesus, regardless of class, race, gender, or nationality will sit at his table. Israel is - not a proud, pure, triumphant nation - but a rag-tag band of sinners living in the grace of God. That’s who we are and that’s why we bother with the Lord’s Supper.
In the next article I will begin to flesh out how the Lord’s Supper integrates with our hopes for being a community of faith that actually loves one another and the world. This article, as with anything I write, is certainly up for debate and question. Please feel free to leave a comment below or send me an email.
1) Eugene Peterson, The Message, Luke 13:29,30
2) N.T. Wright, The Challenge of Jesus, pg. 64
3) N.T. Wright, The Challenge of Jesus, pg. 85