Reflections on Communion

What is it that we do here each week, when we share communion—the Lord’s Supper—together?

Communion is a ritual filled with many layers of meaning, with a rich history, and a bit of disagreement, and many different—yet good—interpretations. The sharing of bread and wine is one of our oldest Christian rituals, mentioned in Paul’s letters, the earliest portion of the New Testament, and in the book of Acts, the story of the early church.

Communion is a sign of the coming of the Realm of God, which sounds so heavy, but is so accessible.

Again: Communion is a sign of the coming of the Realm of God, or the kingdom of God

The Realm of God, Jesus said, is like a wedding banquet to which we are all invited. And it’s so important that we all be there, that a shepherd would leave his whole flock to find just one missing sheep.

We see the realm of God in the other meals that Jesus ate in his lifetime—meals with sinners, tax collectors, the outcasts, the poor, the marginalized. Throughout Jesus’ life, this open table was one of his most characteristic and controversial practices. It was carried through in the early Christian church, where the Jews and the Greeks, the rich and the poor, slave and free, male and female broke bread and worshipped together, sharing actual meals, “love feasts,” the ancient coffee hour.

These meals recall that ancient promise of the prophet Isaiah, who said that on the mountain, God will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, of well aged wine, and wipe away the tears from all faces. God invites all to the feast, and we are to turn no one away.

This is what we –not just symbolize—but actually act out, when we share communion: that we are all invited to God’s table—coming from east, and west, north and south— that we are all invited to a common life, together, ordered by justice, love, and peace. In a world marked by war, the church is called to be an outpost of the realm of God on earth, to build it and to share it. And of course, our life and the church’s life is messy. But this ritual, this sacrament is a sign of that hope which we have, that “God’s kingdom will come”, that someday all the earth will be fed, will be at peace, will be whole.

It is appropriate that in our communion, as we act out the practice that makes us followers of Christ, we also remember and give thanks for all that God has done and is doing. And we remember this tangible life of Jesus, a flesh and blood person who lived among us and showed us how we could be, how could live. We remember Jesus, and we remember what it cost Jesus to do this—his life, his body, his blood. Communion memorializes that sacrifice, but also points towards victory.

For death was not the end— afterwards, Jesus appeared to the disciples on the road to Emmaus: they did not recognize Jesus but saw him as a stranger, until later when they invited him to stay for dinner, and then Jesus took the bread, blessed and broke it, and their eyes were opened, and they recognized Jesus for who we was.

I pray that when we share the glorious open feast of communion, that we may draw closer to God, that we may see Jesus in our midst, that we might be encouraged and strengthened to go out into the world and live the life to which we’ve been called.

Out of practice, not so perfect

A review of Unbinding the Gospel over at The Christian Century talks about successful mainline churches:

Even if their faith is in a universal salvation, they have learned to tell the story of how they have experienced God's grace in their community of faith and to share that story with enthusiasm. They have broken through the mainline fear of offending people and decided to talk about their church.

It has long struck me that the same mainline church members who pass resolutions on gay marriage and propose solutions to conflict in the Middle East suddenly shrink in silence on the subject of their faith, and they do this—here's the irony—so they won't offend anyone. For too long, our noble impulses toward tolerance and inclusivity have turned us into spiritual illiterates who, being out of practice, have forgotten how to speak the words of our faith.

Amen.

People here at First Church often mention being afraid that they'll be misjudged as a conservative or evangelical if they talk about their faith in Liberal City. Of course, if the liberals keep quiet, most people who talk about faith will in fact be conservative/evangelical. We need to 1) get it out into the culture that progressive Christians have experiences of God too; and 2) learn how to share them again.

God is Still Speaking

I read about Hillary Clinton and her faith in the New York Times:

As for how literally to interpret the Bible, she takes a characteristically centrist view. “The whole Bible gives you a glimpse of God and God’s desire for a personal relationship, but we can’t possibly understand every way God is communicating with us,” she said. “I’ve always felt that people who try to shoehorn in their cultural and social understandings of the time into the Bible might be actually missing the larger point.

The UCC advertising is effective. First thought: "God is still speaking."