On The Lord's Supper
January 31, 2021
It has been almost 3 years since my last post on this blog. So why resurrect it now? I left it unfinished, and that fact has repeatedly bothered me. One post in particular is glaringly absent, and needs to be written before I can legitimately call this project anything like complete. (there are many more posts that I could write, and maybe I will, who knows.)
How could one create a blog detailing a move into Confessional Lutheranism without mentioning the Lord's Supper?
There's a simple and honest explanation: cowardice.
My beliefs on this topic haven't changed during these past years since becoming Lutheran, but rather I knew that sharing them would be rather off-putting to many of my friends and family, and I wanted to delay the potential conflict and/or distancing that I believed would inevitably result. This is about how I imagined they would react:
So enough introduction.
Growing up, the Lord's Supper was a solemn time of remembrance. It was a special ceremony that we did because Jesus instructed us to do so. "Remembrance" meant that this was a time when I was to sit and ponder what Christ had done for me, remembering especially the pain and suffering that He endured in His beatings and crucifixion. The bread and grape juice reminded me of His body that was broken and the blood that He spilled, the true cost of my sins. It was a time for sorrow, tinged with gratefulness.
Communion was celebrated in all of the churches that I attended, as far as I can remember. It is this odd thing that Christians do, something that makes us unique. Usually it was little bread cubes and grape juice in individual cups that were passed around while we remained seated. This wasn't standard practice everywhere though. At the Vineyard there were stations set up at different spots, and as we sang a song or two, people would walk to them when they felt "ready." Sometimes there were crackers that were dunked into the juice. At least once it was part of a family-style meal, with a loaf of bread being passed around and each person tearing off a hunk.
Probably the most unusual time was while I was going to a Christian counselor for help with my depression. During one session when she felt I'd had some sort of "break through," she pulled out two snack-pack-like peel-open containers with a wafer and little cup of juice each. She informed me that the Bible says we are granted physical healing through Christ's blood, and that taking Communion could help "seal" what had just transpired. I had never heard anything like that before, and was wary, but went along out of a desire not to offend. I don't remember if she spoke the Words of Institution, though there was a prayer.
It was probably less than a year later that I found the Lutherans.
I was admittedly confused and put off when I learned that they thought that Christ's body and blood were actually present in the Lord's Supper. Wouldn't that make them cannibals? I mean, whoa. Eww. I knew, sort of, that the Roman Catholics believed something along those lines, but they also believed that they were re-sacrificing Christ, and I knew the Bible didn't teach that.
But these Lutherans, their teachings lined up with Scripture in all of these other areas. I knew how they looked at God's Word, and the care that they took in understanding it, and it seemed odd to me that they could get this so wrong. How could they not see? All it takes is a simple reading of the verses where Christ institutes the Lord's Supper to see that He says, "Do this in remembrance of me." That's pretty plain language.
Oh, but wait, now that I look at it, He does say, "This is my body," and "This is my blood," but it's pretty plain that that must be metaphorical language, right? He couldn't possibly have meant that literally. That's nuts. All it takes is a minute to see that it's still bread and juice. (Ok, so they use wine. I can make my peace with that.)
I thought about it some more. I read some of their explanations, listened to some podcasts discussing the topic. I saw how the sacrifices in the Old Testament were usually consumed by the people, and agreed that those sacrifices were pointing forward to Christ. I considered the magisterial vs ministerial use of reason (do we make the Bible submit to our reason, bending or dismissing what it says when it doesn't make sense to us, or do we submit our reason to the Word of God, bowing to it when we don't understand) and admitted that I had been allowing my reason to sit above Christ's own words. I sat in awe when I saw the amazing connections between death coming from the eating from the fruit of a tree, and salvation coming from eating of the "fruit of the tree" - Christ's death on the cross, the true tree of life. And most importantly there were the actual words of Christ, spoken during a setting that was akin to a "last will and testament" - hardly a time when one uses metaphorical or unclear language.
But while I'd come to agree with them, the thing that I think really stuck with me was when I realized the weight of the meaning behind Jesus' side being pierced. Two things had often puzzled me: Why did John make such a big deal about blood and water pouring from His side? And why did God choose to make Eve from the rib of Adam? From Adam's side God created a bride for Adam, and the same happened with Jesus. In the waters of Baptism, and the blood of Communion He creates the Church, His Bride. AH YES!
Of course, this is a massive topic, and I have no intention of attempting to exhaust it. But I do want to mention a few other things. We believe that yes, the bread and wine are Christ's actual body and blood, but we also believe that they remain bread and wine. The Bible refers to both being physically present, and so they are. (This is different than the Transubstantiation of the Roman Catholics, or the "spiritual presence" of the Calvinists.) We believe that in the Lord's Supper we receive forgiveness of sins (as Christ says, "for the forgiveness of sins.") Because of the weight of what one is receiving - the actual body and blood of Jesus - and the stern warnings about taking it in an unworthy manner, Confessional Lutherans do not allow just anyone to partake. As a doctor would need to first examine a patient to be certain that they would receive the medicine to their benefit and not their harm, so Lutheran pastors take care to do the same (offend as it may, it is done in love.)
So how are things different now? Today I went forward to receive Communion. While yes I remembered Jesus' death on the cross, and I examined myself and saw that, yes, I am still very much sinful and yes, I still very much am in need of forgiveness, the beautiful thing was the amazing gift that I received. In full knowledge of my need, I was given that which satisfied it. I knelt at the rail and was given Christ's own body and blood, an objective, extra nos, concrete, visible Word that cannot fail. Jesus promised that His forgiveness is attached to the elements, and He does not lie. Through the hands of the pastor, He graciously gave it to me, I consumed it, and He has bound Himself to His Word. In my Baptism I was forgiven, He forgives my sins now and reassures me of it through these objective means, and He will continue to forgive me until the Last Day.
Though my faith may waver, and my eyes and my tongue may doubt what actually happens each Sunday, yet I cling to His Word. Though my sins continue to accuse me, though I am far from worthy to receive it, each Sunday I am given renewed assurance of His love and grace. No longer do I leave Communion focused on my act of remembering, looking mostly at my own guilt and shame for the wounds that I have caused. Instead, I leave rejoicing at what Christ has done for me, praising God that my guilt and shame have been removed.
Comments
Post a Comment