Jeremiah 31:31-34; John 13:1-5, 34, 35;
1 Corinthians 11:17-26
May 2, 2010
Resurrection Life: The Call to Communion!
Rev. Meagan Boozer
Today, we continue our sermon series on Resurrection Life! The question is: What should our lives look like as those who trust not just in Jesus’ resurrection from the dead, but those who trust that Jesus’ resurrection from the dead has opened the way for new life for us here and now, and eternal life for us beyond the grave? What should living in the light of resurrection look like?
We started this series focusing on the call to baptism, continuing with a focus on the call to mission, then last week Dennis focused on the call to hope in God alone, and today, we turn our eyes to the call to communion, the Lord’s Supper, the Eucharist.
Listen with me to the beautiful promise of God found in Jeremiah 31:31-34, a promise of what God places within those who belong to him:
31The days are surely coming, says the LORD, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah. 32It will not be like the covenant that I made with their ancestors when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt—a covenant that they broke, though I was their husband, says the LORD. 33But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the LORD: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. 34No longer shall they teach one another, or say to each other, “Know the LORD,” for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the LORD; for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more.
I remember being a little child in the pews at Falling Spring church, watching all the big people take a little piece of bread and then drink grape juice out of those cool little glasses that fit in those strange little holes on the back of the pew in front of us. I remember being jealous and even mad, because it seemed that everyone got to “do it” except me. It was so mysterious, this thing happening all around me, like nothing I ever saw anywhere else. Those were the days when a kid had to wait until they had been confirmed before they could eat the bread and drink the juice. Presbyterian pastors were more strict then. Rules were rules – and though some might say that rules were made to be broken – rules were rarely broken under the watchful eyes of the Rev. Dr. Rodney Thane Taylor when I was a young girl in church. Joan Sachs was the organist under Dr. Taylor, and she can testify that what I am saying is true.
There are ongoing debates about the “right age” that a child or teen should be in order to share the communion meal. There are debates about whether only the baptized should be allowed to share the meal. There are debates about the debates. But, I keep going back to what I experienced as I watched others receive something that was withheld from me as a child: I experienced a sense of expectation and anticipation for the moment when I was finally allowed to eat and drink that mysterious little meal along with everyone else. I knew that no matter how boring confirmation class might get, I knew the reward for making it through was going to be worth it – I would no longer have to merely pass the serving containers up and down the row – I knew those containers would then have a little piece of bread and a little glassful of juice just for me.
There’s a lot to be said for that feeling of expectation – that sense of anticipation – as we come near to God. For it is true that if we expect nothing, we often receive nothing – but if we expect something, something is often received.
On the night that Jesus was in the Upper Room with his disciples for that final Passover meal, there must have been incredible energy in that room: the disciples were expecting something from Jesus, but they didn’t know what. (How could they not after the three years they had spent with him?) They arrived expectantly, they were nervous inside, yet we know that they were able to rest enough to recline around the Passover table. Listen to what happened that they were definitely not expecting:
John 13:1-5, 34, 35
1Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. 2The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him. And during supper 3Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, 4got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. 5Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him.
Jesus told them they should follow his example in their treatment of others. He said, “If I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.” (vv. 14,15) They were not expecting that! Then, he told them that one of them was going to betray him. They were not expecting that either! And then, he gave them a new commandment. A new commandment? That was totally not on their radar screens: Jesus said:
34I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. 35By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”
As part of the much-anticipated Passover Feast, Jesus inserted a foot-washing, and he inserted this powerful new commandment to love one another so that everyone will be able to recognize them as disciples of Jesus. They expected something special that night, and they were not disappointed.
As Jesus took the bread, he said, “This is my body, broken for you.” As he took the cup, he said, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, poured out for you.” (That’s Jeremiah 31 language – a new covenant!) These ordinary men, made extraordinary because of Jesus’ call on their lives, were not observers watching others do something they were not allowed to do. This was as real as it gets. They were partakers, gathered by the Savior around a table. They were disciples, unsure of what was really being said, of what Jesus really meant when he said the bread was his body, the wine was his blood. They didn’t understand much except that they were loved. They were chosen. They knew that the bread was broken and the wine was poured for them as they rested with Jesus around the table.
What a picture this puts in our head! What comfort it gives to us who struggle to understand what is really happening as we share the bread and the juice together during worship.
• How might we experience a special rest with Jesus if we would just expect him to be with us in a unique way as we receive what he started with those first disciples so long ago.
• Can we anticipate meeting with him as he serves us, and as we then serve one another as he instructed us to do?
It sounds so simple. Just take the bread plate & the juice tray and pass them along the row. How difficult is this? It is not difficult at all if it is nothing but a physical action. Put your hands on the plate, move your arms across your body to transfer the plate to the next person. No problem. Except that it is more, much more than a mere physical action.
This is not your dinner table at home: “Would you pour me some more juice?” “Hey, can you toss me a roll?” This communion meal has a whole lot more to do with our spiritual condition than our physical condition. You knew that, right? You’ve never left after sharing communion together and said, “I don’t think I need lunch today. That piece of bread really filled me up!” Physically, this little meal does not satisfy an empty stomach. But spiritually, this meal can bring to us a deep satisfaction and comfort in knowing that we are loved; we have been chosen. This meal, like baptism, sets us apart from non-believers. They may feel what I was feeling as a child – sort-of left out. And that’s okay, for it may raise within them a sense of anticipation and expectation of what may happen when they are invited to come and share the bread and juice.
Unfortunately, what happens too often is that though the practice of sharing the communion meal sets us apart from non-believers, the practice of our lives before and after doesn’t look or sound any different from theirs.
Listen with me now to this Scripture, written to the early church in Corinth by the apostle Paul. I’ll warn you, he’s a little hot under the collar by the 11th chapter:
1 Corinthians 11:17-26
17Now in the following instructions I do not commend you, because when you come together it is not for the better but for the worse. 18For, to begin with, when you come together as a church, I hear that there are divisions among you; and to some extent I believe it. 19Indeed, there have to be factions among you, for only so will it become clear who among you are genuine. 20When you come together, it is not really to eat the Lord’s supper. 21For when the time comes to eat, each of you goes ahead with your own supper, and one goes hungry and another becomes drunk. 22What! Do you not have homes to eat and drink in? Or do you show contempt for the church of God and humiliate those who have nothing? What should I say to you? Should I commend you? In this matter I do not commend you! 23For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, 24and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” 25In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” 26For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.
How many here have ever attended a potluck supper? The early church had a wonderful tradition in connection with sharing the Lord’s Supper. And for a while, it was a wonderful tradition – until the sinfulness of humanity got in the way. For a while, everyone in the fellowship would bring whatever they had to share to a common meal – a potluck supper! Everyone would eat a meal together (called a Love Feast), and after the meal, the Lord’s Supper was celebrated. Kenneth Chafin writes in his commentary on 1 & 2 Corinthians, “This had a certain naturalness to it since Christ had instituted the practice at the close of the Jewish Passover meal.”
Sounds good, right? Sitting around the tables with each other, eating Joni’s meatloaf or Bob’s pork roast, or Vivian’s rice pudding or coconut cream pie. Talk about relaxed around the table! We might even have to loosen the belt a little! And then after sharing all that good food and conversation, then we would share the bread and the juice together as a Christian community. I like it!
In the Corinthian church though, several things happened to ruin this tradition. When they met, instead of being one body, one family, they tended to divide up into separate groups. Social-class groups. Richer members kept to themselves rather than share their space or their food with the poorer among them. Also, some people were having so much to drink that they were getting drunk. Chafin writes, “In this atmosphere where sharing had been forgotten, the church tried to celebrate the sacrifice God made in sharing his Son for our sins, and it was a mockery. To Paul it made no difference if the right words were spoken and the right actions were performed if the condition of the church’s fellowship and the spirit of its members stood as a contradiction to the true meaning of the Lord’s Supper.”
Paul scolds them for this divisive behavior, and then calls them to remember how it all began. Paul’s words are the first written account of the origin of the Lord’s Supper – for the gospels were still several years away from being written. He reminds them of Jesus’ words as he shared the meal with his disciples as a way of calling them to examine their hearts.
None of us are worthy to share in this spiritual meal by our own merits. None of us measure up to the standards of purity of heart, purity of motive, purity of body or spirit. The disciples didn’t measure up either. But what Christ calls us to measure is not our unworthiness, but our openness to love one another, to forgive one another, to share with one another, to pass the bread and pass the juice up and down the rows without leaving anyone out in thought, word, or deed. Christ calls us, in the sharing of this meal, to remember that he died once for all. And that puts us all on a level playing field, and in our hearts, we must remain there. 1 Peter 3:18 proclaims, “Christ also suffered for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, in order to bring you to God.”
As those who are called to be followers of Jesus, we are called to come to this Table, to remember over and over again the fullness of what Christ has done for us, his physical death, his new life in the Spirit. We are called to meet with our Savior as he draws us together in love. Sometimes at a potluck supper, the ones at the end of the line don’t have as many choices as the ones who started first. Several years ago when we tried a potluck picnic at Hammond’s Grove after community worship, many people didn’t get any food at all.
That never happens here at the Lord’s Table. The equality of this meal is intentional. My prayer today is that we might come with the faith of a child, filled with a sense of anticipation and expectation of what God will do in us and with us and among us as we eat and drink in remembrance of him. Amen.
