And Jesus took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way, after the supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you”. Luke 22:19-20
I must have been around 24 - nearly 50 years ago - and a newly ordained minister, but I remember it well.
I noticed that a lady in the church, an absolute regular, didn’t take the bread and wine at communion. I must have asked her why this was, and she replied: “I don’t think I’m good enough.”
This alerted me to the fact that there are people who come regularly to our churches who, if I can put it bluntly, haven’t got a clue about various things - among them the “communion service”. That lady obviously hadn’t understood that there is nobody “good enough” to take the bread and wine! - the whole point of Jesus’ crucifixion is that it is for sinners, and that means every single one of us. And so the meal that commemorates it is also for sinners.
I suspect that many of us regularly take communion pretty much as a matter of course - just something we do - without giving it much thought. I’m certainly guilty of this myself - and I’ve often been the one doing the leading!
Communion - or “the breaking of bread”, the “eucharist”, the “mass”, the “Lord’s Supper”, whatever you call it in your particular church tradition - is a big topic, and there’s no space to go into it in depth. But I want to focus on two questions, taken almost at random, which I think demonstrate how limited our understanding can be.
First, should I expect to feel a certain way when I take communion?
It might be more honest to put the question a different way: Is there something wrong with me if I don’t feel any particular emotion? Should that bother me?
There are those, in various church traditions, who would say that communion is “the central act of Christian worship” or something similar, the most sacred moment in what we do. Some churches, I believe, have a “communion season” just twice a year, when several weeks’ preparation is required before partaking in this solemn act.
But if this is so, shouldn’t I be feeling something emotional, even mystical, as I take the bread and wine? Shouldn’t every communion service be a spiritual “high”?
Even after all these years, I must admit that this question still vaguely niggles away at me. I obediently eat the bread and drink the wine, but there is that little inner voice: “So what? What was that about? What was the point? Has it made any difference?”
And then I have to give myself a bit of a talking to!
I remind myself that emotion is a very unstable thing. Putting it another way, feelings are not things we can control: they just happen to us. An urge to laugh - or, come to that, to cry - can’t be controlled. We all know what it’s like to have a “fit of the giggles”, or to be unable to control tears which we didn’t even realise were anywhere near the surface.
But if feelings can’t be controlled, neither can they be souped up - manufactured, so to speak - to order.
When I was a very small boy I had an aunt who was infuriatingly bossy, and if she thought you were looking a bit glum (which I may well have been, to be honest, precisely because she had decided to pay a visit) she would try to jolly you up a bit: “Come on, give us a smile!” And she wouldn’t let it go until you had forced yourself to produce a completely false, plastic smile: “Now then, that’s better!” she would say. Grrr!
Forgive the trivial example, but it does apply. For by the same token you can’t force yourself to feel “spiritual” just because you’re in a communion service. True, if you routinely share in such a service with a heart that’s stone-cold towards God, then perhaps you need to have a look at your whole spiritual life and your relationship with him. Something may be wrong.
But the fact is that what you are doing, in essence, is simply obeying a clear command that Jesus gave: “do this in remembrance of me”. As long as you are sincere, and truly want to be drawn closer to him, as long as you take the bread and wine in honest faith and humbly want to be a better Christian, what do feelings matter?
Loving, obedient trust is everything. So, I would say, receive the bread and wine with a grateful and peaceful heart!
That’s my take on this matter. But I would love to hear from you, of course, if you feel I have missed something...
I said I had two questions I wanted to tackle, but I’ve run out of space, so I must leave it till next time. But in order, hopefully, to whet your appetite, let me tell you what the other question is: Should it bother us if non-Christians take communion?
Father God, thank you for the word of Jesus: “If you love me, you will keep my commands.” Please help me to show my love by my obedience, and so to let my feelings take care of themselves. Amen.
I must have been around 24 - nearly 50 years ago - and a newly ordained minister, but I remember it well.
I noticed that a lady in the church, an absolute regular, didn’t take the bread and wine at communion. I must have asked her why this was, and she replied: “I don’t think I’m good enough.”
This alerted me to the fact that there are people who come regularly to our churches who, if I can put it bluntly, haven’t got a clue about various things - among them the “communion service”. That lady obviously hadn’t understood that there is nobody “good enough” to take the bread and wine! - the whole point of Jesus’ crucifixion is that it is for sinners, and that means every single one of us. And so the meal that commemorates it is also for sinners.
I suspect that many of us regularly take communion pretty much as a matter of course - just something we do - without giving it much thought. I’m certainly guilty of this myself - and I’ve often been the one doing the leading!
Communion - or “the breaking of bread”, the “eucharist”, the “mass”, the “Lord’s Supper”, whatever you call it in your particular church tradition - is a big topic, and there’s no space to go into it in depth. But I want to focus on two questions, taken almost at random, which I think demonstrate how limited our understanding can be.
First, should I expect to feel a certain way when I take communion?
It might be more honest to put the question a different way: Is there something wrong with me if I don’t feel any particular emotion? Should that bother me?
There are those, in various church traditions, who would say that communion is “the central act of Christian worship” or something similar, the most sacred moment in what we do. Some churches, I believe, have a “communion season” just twice a year, when several weeks’ preparation is required before partaking in this solemn act.
But if this is so, shouldn’t I be feeling something emotional, even mystical, as I take the bread and wine? Shouldn’t every communion service be a spiritual “high”?
Even after all these years, I must admit that this question still vaguely niggles away at me. I obediently eat the bread and drink the wine, but there is that little inner voice: “So what? What was that about? What was the point? Has it made any difference?”
And then I have to give myself a bit of a talking to!
I remind myself that emotion is a very unstable thing. Putting it another way, feelings are not things we can control: they just happen to us. An urge to laugh - or, come to that, to cry - can’t be controlled. We all know what it’s like to have a “fit of the giggles”, or to be unable to control tears which we didn’t even realise were anywhere near the surface.
But if feelings can’t be controlled, neither can they be souped up - manufactured, so to speak - to order.
When I was a very small boy I had an aunt who was infuriatingly bossy, and if she thought you were looking a bit glum (which I may well have been, to be honest, precisely because she had decided to pay a visit) she would try to jolly you up a bit: “Come on, give us a smile!” And she wouldn’t let it go until you had forced yourself to produce a completely false, plastic smile: “Now then, that’s better!” she would say. Grrr!
Forgive the trivial example, but it does apply. For by the same token you can’t force yourself to feel “spiritual” just because you’re in a communion service. True, if you routinely share in such a service with a heart that’s stone-cold towards God, then perhaps you need to have a look at your whole spiritual life and your relationship with him. Something may be wrong.
But the fact is that what you are doing, in essence, is simply obeying a clear command that Jesus gave: “do this in remembrance of me”. As long as you are sincere, and truly want to be drawn closer to him, as long as you take the bread and wine in honest faith and humbly want to be a better Christian, what do feelings matter?
Loving, obedient trust is everything. So, I would say, receive the bread and wine with a grateful and peaceful heart!
That’s my take on this matter. But I would love to hear from you, of course, if you feel I have missed something...
I said I had two questions I wanted to tackle, but I’ve run out of space, so I must leave it till next time. But in order, hopefully, to whet your appetite, let me tell you what the other question is: Should it bother us if non-Christians take communion?
Father God, thank you for the word of Jesus: “If you love me, you will keep my commands.” Please help me to show my love by my obedience, and so to let my feelings take care of themselves. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment