Given the title here, you might be nervous. What are they changing now? Why mess with my childhood memory? Is this a new understanding unlocked through the latest scholarship of endo-scans of an ancient manuscript and divided by the divine numbers as see on Nat-GeoTM? Nope. These are the same promises Christ made to us on the night before he went to the cross. The change is how we participate.
But why? The short answer: to help us all to more fully understand the meaning of the Supper. It started when I had to buy more plastic cups. And someone asked: where did they come from? I said, “Amazon.” But the real answer is a matter of history: the shot-glass trays were innovated in New York City by a Baptist church in the late 19thcentury. It was the height of industrialization and the advent of germ theory, that is germs make us sick and are to be avoided. In 1906 a Lutheran pastor published an argument that individual cups were more sanitary and convenient. Oh, and there was more than one cup at the Last Supper with Jesus, so we need more cups. Presto-chango and these trays are the most common means in Protestant churches. Then COVID pushed many churches even further by offering the little combo-packs of juice and cracker tossed in a basket. Perhaps you’ve had the displeasure. Last June these were served at the General Synod meeting of the Reformed Church in America. I was convinced (and convicted) that we’d given up too much for convenience. And they tasted horrible. The distribution was bumping up against the meaning of the Lord’s Supper. I was also sad. How could the oldest Protestant church tradition in America lose their rich understanding of the Lord’s Supper? Like bankruptcy: little by little and then all of a sudden. This may still be a revolution.
But what did they do before tiny cups? In the 16th century, the protestors opposed the Church’s veneration of the sacrament. They saw no evidence in Scripture that the elements themselves became divine. Once the reformers were expelled from the Church, they had to practice what they preached. And for them even kneeling at an altar rail before a casket (the wooden box) was too close to the misunderstandings of the Roman bishop. But how can the practice reflect the understanding? Some, like Ulrich Zwingli, liked serving in seats (on stools not pews). He is the arch ‘memorialist’. That is, he views the Supper as a commemoration ceremony and Christ is present in our minds when we ‘remember.’ I find this odd for all sorts of reasons. But to start, Christ’s presence would depend on the mind available doing the remembering. If my mind is scrambled by accident or disease, it’s strange to think Christ is less present to me than before. And then Christ is only present to my mind? and not my soul, heart, emotions, and even body? I think it’s obvious that it’s negligence to withhold the Supper from someone “incapable” to “understand,” as a modern Zwingli-phite should conclude. This view also puts the weight on our readiness and worthiness to receive. John Calvin, on the other hand, insisted that Christ is made present by the Holy Spirit. The Lord’s Supper is a particular means of grace. Christ is neither the bread itself nor constrained to heaven while we sit to recall. Rather, in the Godhead, heaven and earth are joined by Christ’s body and made present to us by the Holy Spirit. So, Calvin liked to walk to the table (they called it walking communion). Others set up chairs around a table and sat like a normal meal. Usually space constraints of buildings make walking communion became the most common practice for Reformed churches, including in the Netherlands. That is until the 20th century.
To be clear: having a wrong idea and weird practice won’t exclude us from God, but why make it harder for us to understand? I want to emphasize it is all about grace and we are dependent on God for making contact with us. We believe the Lord’s Supper was given to us by Christ as a sacrament to confirm our union with him. It’s a sign that proclaims the promise of God to forgive our sins because of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross. Nothing can be added to Christ’s work, and we can’t do anything to earn it, even faith the size of a pumpkin or smart right thinking doesn’t make it more effective. Rather, we come to the table because it ushers us into a new world of God’s new creation, like being issued a new passport so we can cross into the new land. That new life in us is a beachhead of New Creation. When we break the bread and drink the cup we participate in Christ’s body, on earth as it is in heaven. Since we meet the Triune God as a community in community. We need to resist the material-world denying spirituality that passes as faith. We also need to resist the hyper-individualism fueled by our wealth and rugged independence. The Supper is not a private act of a lone individual’s journey to God. So, let’s not make it one. Denying these external realties impinges on us in unhelpful ways. So maybe through a renewed practice the Church (universal) has a chance to rehome the many homeless Christians wandering about, many of whom are spiritually drug-addled and just need someone to walk them home.
What started with plastic cups ended wondering about the understanding of our practice. The Worship Committee and Consistory worked out a new way to try. And if you’ve been here for it, you couldn’t miss it. In March we started coming forward to the table to receive the bread and the cup. Then we circled around (something of a half-circle) and ate and drank together. The intent of the change is to act more clearly by the truth of the Supper. We didn’t change to chase experience but to meet and honor and the Lord as he’s honored and met us: in the body of Christ. We’ll try this for another couple months and talk some more. But notice how this change is helpful to your understanding and participation the sacrament. Also notice ways that it’s distracting or disruptive. Maybe it’s a bit of both. Either way, I welcome you to share with myself or a member of Consistory or Worship Committee how this helps you to know the Lord better, or better: to be known by God. May the Lord meet us at His Table.