Today
is the 1st Sunday this summer when our children might remain with us
throughout the worship service, and today we celebrate the Lord’s Supper. So, this week, I have been thinking
about my own experiences of the Lord’s Supper from childhood until now. I grew up Southern Baptist. We did not celebrate the Lord’s
Supper; we observed it. It was not considered a sacrament—a visible sign of an invisible
grace bestowed by God. Instead it
was called an ordinance—an act of
obedience–responding to Christ’s command to “do this in remembrance of me.” At our Baptist Church, we observed the
Lord’s Supper once a quarter, at our evening worship—which was attended by
about ½ the number of people who came on Sunday mornings. The table was open
only to members of our congregation.
I remember one Sunday evening the pastor preached about having “to be
right with God” before taking the bread and juice. Otherwise we “ate and drank judgment against ourselves.” He made a reference to knowing someone
who had observed the Lord’s Supper without examining her life and who was now
suffering ill health. My beloved
Sunday School teacher had recently been
diagnosed with kidney disease and had
begun dialysis. The pastor’s
example seemed to point to her.
That Lord’s Supper sermon combined with our evening, members-only
observances painted a picture in my mind that depicted the Lord’s Supper as
dark—almost threatening, as somber—almost sad, and as exclusive—leaving some
people out. As a child, I did not
look forward to the Lord’s Supper.
Like
many young people, when I left my hometown to go to college, I left practicing
my faith behind. A few years
later, when Kevin and I first started talking about getting married, we made a
vow—we would worship regularly together.
So Catholic-reared Kevin and Baptist-reared Mari Lyn began to seek a
church home. When we visited Faith
Presbyterian Church in south Austin, nothing seemed extraordinary. Some people
said “hello” to us when we coasted in right before worship began. Some of the songs were familiar-ish,
fairly easy to learn. The pastor
was soft-spoken and had a kind presence.
But nothing was extraordinary—until the pastor stood behind the Lord’s
Table and spoke the words of invitation.
It seemed like he was looking right at me—sitting in the very back of
the sanctuary. It felt like he was
speaking straight to me when he said these words. “This table does not belong
to Faith Presbyterian Church. Nor
does it belong to the Presbyterian denomination. This table belongs to Jesus the Christ. He is the host. He invites anyone who wants to know him
better to come and be a part of this feast which he has prepared.” An open Communion table, a joyful
celebration, an abundant feast—this is what I was being invited to participate
in. But how could that be? It was like these Presbyterians had a different
perspective on the Lord’s Supper.
What
is the Presbyterian perspective on the Lord’s Supper? First and foremost it is a sacrament—a visible sign of an
invisible grace. We see, we hear,
we touch, we taste, we smell the bread and the cup. By the power of the Holy Spirit, through these visible,
tangible elements we experience God’s grace.
We
use several different terms to refer to this sacrament. And each term reminds
us of something we believe about the sacrament. “The Lord’s Supper” reminds us that we are fed at this
table. Everyone ate until they were full.[1]
Just as all of the crowd was
fed in 1st our scripture reading today, all of us are fed at the
table. Our minds, our bodies, our
spirits, and our emotions are nourished in this sacrament. And the disciples filled twelve baskets with the
leftovers.[2] The grace we receive here is abundant. We do not go home hungry. No need to build a fence around this
table, for there is plenty for all. Fed at this table, we are sent out renewed and ready to work
for God’s justice in the world here and now.
According
to dictionary.com, “communion” —with a little c—is an act of sharing or holding
in common;[3] Communion connotes unity derived from
intimacy. When we refer to this
sacrament as Communion—with a capital c—we recognize that when we share the one
bread and drink from the one cup, we are spiritually united with one
another. John Calvin wrote that at
the table, by the power of the Holy Spirit, we are spiritually transported to
the throne of grace where we meet Christ.
Like the 2 disciples who traveled that road to Emmaus, when we come to
the table—in the breaking of the bread—we meet Christ. Together, we are brought into his presence. Together, we commune with him.
Our
own Lord’s Table has the words “This do in remembrance of me” carved into
it. In Matthew, Mark, and Luke’s
gospels, eating the Passover meal with his disciples, Jesus blesses bread,
breaks it and then tells them to eat it remembering him. This sacrament is a “Remembrance.” We remember the mighty acts of God which reveal that
God created us, God loves us, and God continually draws us close to God.[4] This sacrament is a remembrance. We remember Jesus—his life, his death, and
his resurrection.
In
remembering the freely given grace of Jesus that reconciles us with God, we
respond with gratitude. With
thanksgiving for God’s abundant love, with thanksgiving for Christ’s amazing
grace, with thanksgiving for the transformation the Holy Spirit provides in our
lives, we respond to Christ’s invitation to the table. In our Words of
Institution, the Greek word used for giving thanks is eucharistia— “Eucharist” thanksgiving.
We
give thanks for what has been done for us—for our salvation—the already. And we give thanks for what will be
done for us—the not yet. Luke says, “people
will come from east and west and north and south to eat in the kingdom of God.”[5]
The Lord’s Supper is a foretaste of the feast we will share with all God’s
children when God’s justice is fully realized on earth. The Lord’s Supper is a foretaste of the
great banquet we will share when Christ comes again.
Prepared
by the reading and the proclamation of the word of God, hungry for Christ’s
presence, united in love, remembering God’s mighty acts; with gratitude, and in
joyful expectation, we come to the table.
We come to the table over and over again because we need to be fed. We come to the table over and over
again because we need to see, to hear, to touch, to taste, to smell Jesus. We come to the table over and over
again because we need to know how much we are loved. We come to the table over and over again because we need to
remember who we are and to whom we belong. We come to the table over and over again because we need to
give thanks. We come to the table over and over again because we are
needy. And here, at the table, our
needs are met by God’s ever-abundant love.
To
his disciples, Jesus said, “Allow the
children to come to me. Don’t forbid them, because God’s kingdom belongs to
people like these children. I assure you that whoever doesn’t welcome God’s
kingdom like a child will [not] enter it.”[6] To experience God’s reign, God’s rule,
we must become child-like—open to the wonder of God’s gifts, eager to receive,
and trusting. One Sunday morning
when the pastor concluded the invitation to the table with “Come, all is ready,”
5 year-old Matt came running down the aisle. He broke off a big piece of bread and dunked it into the
cup. Juice flowing down his arms,
he lifted his hand to his face and bit off some of the now purple, wet
bread. Juice ran down his chin. With a front-row seat, my initial
reaction was a sharp intake of breath and a frown over the spectacle Matt was
making. Then, with a smile on her
face, our pastor said, “Praise God,” and I realized what I was seeing. Little Matt understood. In this sacrament, God is offering us
the most valuable gift, so Matt ran to receive it. God’s love is abundant, so Matt took a big piece of
bread. Jesus’ grace covers us, so
Matt soaked his bread in juice and let it run down his face and neck and hand
and arm. What was I seeing? A picture of the Lord’s Supper—a much
different picture from the one painted for me as a child at the Baptist
Church. What was I seeing? A
picture of God’s ever-abundant love, God’s freely-offered gift of grace, and
the eager, joyful anticipation of gratefully receiving it. My hope is that all of us will always
receive this sacrament like little Matt.
Amen.
[1] Luke 9: 17 (Common English
Bible)
[2] Luke 9: 17 (Common English
Bible)
[3] Dictionary.com at
<http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/communion?s=t> visited
2012-06-29.
[4] (“Directory
for Worship,” in the Book of Order: the
Constitution of the Presbyterian Church USA, Part II. W—2.4003)
[5] Luke 13: 29 (New Revised Standard
Version)
[6] Luke 18: 16 – 17 (Common
English Bible)
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