Tag: Communion

  • Communional Mystery

    John 6:54–66, Zechariah 3:1–4, Romans 8:31–39

    The how of Communion has been a mystery of and for the church. How it works has been (and continues to be) a strong discussion point between traditions and denominations. What hasn’t been a discussion point is that it does work. The long practice of Communion ties generations to the past, communities together, connects hearts and minds to the faith. At the beginning, even before Jesus’ death on the cross, it was a dividing point. People took a very literal view of Jesus’ wording, which turned them away from him. Those that knew him—the 12 disciples—didn’t walk away. They seemed to have some understanding that Jesus wasn’t being as literal as others had assumed. That does not mean they completely understood. They did, however, know Jesus, so instead of insisting to understand, they accepted. Jesus did make accepting blood and flesh crucial to being his follower, and receiving eternal life. Thus Communion is not just something we do lightly.

    Communion is part of the transformed/transforming/being-transformed life of being a Christian. It is part of our adoption into God’s family. As we become, and continue to be, a part of God’s family, we can rely and trust in Paul’s words about those who accuse us. The accusations of being nonredeemable and unredeemed are the same accusations that Zechariah saw Satan throw at Joshua (a high priest, not the prophet who followed Moses). The same filthy rags that were removed from Joshua (and by extensions, the Jews), are those removed from us when we accept Jesus Christ.

    The Accuser (whether Satan or people who seek to pull us down) is a constant threat to a Christian (or anyone). However, when we have Jesus Christ and are in fellowship with him, the accusations are merely empty words. The words and spirit behind them hurt, but we turn to Jesus who wipes away our tears and hurt. Communion is that constant reminder that God is the host of the banquet. He has clothed us in white, even though we cannot see it.

    1) Have you ever come across a time or place where Communion separated, rather than joined, people to Christ and the greater body? What was it like?

    2) Have you ever thought about the importance of Communion in regards to your salvation? How do you think that works?

    3) Accusations can often keep us away from the table. When you “hear” accusations, how do you deal with them? Do you bring them to others, or do you bear them alone?

  • A Secured Feast

    Psalm 78:1–43, 2 Kings 4:42–44, Luke 9:10–17

    In the land they had left (Egypt), there was plenty, but it was not theirs. In the wilderness, there was not plenty. In the wilderness, however, Israel had God who provided both sustenance, and beyond that. God provided for the Israelites in ways neither you nor I, or even the Israelites (it seems) could really understand. Perhaps that is much of the struggle the Israelites had. They had to blindly trust God to provide. Their sweat and labor was not required. It must have been frightening. Put yourselves in their place. Remove yourself from your security. There is literally nothing you can do to provide for yourself. Would you really feel so secure, as you think you do now?

    Sometimes food security isn’t about the food itself, but satisfying the needs of others. Elisha’s attendant is charged with feeding a small amount of bread to 100 people. The feeling is along the lines of, “you want me to put this paltry amount of food before these men, and tell them that they will be satisfied?” Elisha is “the man of God,” but the attendant doesn’t believe this carries over to him. God is greater than Elisha (obviously), but there is still insecurity.

    Now, instead of feeding 100 men, you now have to feed 5000. It seems doubtful that the disciples had more loaves than in the story of Elisha. At least they had some fish, and 50 times the number of people to feed. Again, not enough food to provide for others. Only God can do this.

    When we come to the Lord’s Table (communion) we can be secure that God has prepared the table for us. God is our table host. God is our salvation. In a country where 30-50% of food is thrown away, most of us don’t know long term food insecurity. In a culture where food insecurity was the norm, being a guest of a ruler’s feast was not only not normal, it was a once-in-a-lifetime (if ever) invitation. Yet, we are free to come to the table, secure in more than food, but secure in knowing the one who saves us.

    1) Providing for ourselves is an expectation. American culture takes it to a higher level. Why is this a problem when we come to the Lord’s Table?

    2) In Scripture, so many miracles exist around food. Why do you think that is?

    3) When you’re invited to eat with God, amazing things can (and do) happen. Why do we expect so little, then?

  • Welcomed To The Table

    Genesis 12:1-7, Ruth 2:13–19, Job 31:24–32

    For many of us (if not most), the call of Abram (who would become Abraham) doesn’t seem that significant from a strictly human perspective. Yes, any of us would find being called by God significant, but the calling away from relatives and land is not so strange. This is not the case here. There is a relationship with the land. The land of one’s ancestors. There is also the concept of leaving one’s family.

    American culture, especially Western American culture, has some significant breaks with the culture of Abram. The settler and/or explorer mentality which underlies much of American founding is not conducive to family roots, or least always staying near home. America celebrates individuality and individual freedom to culturally understand what God is having Abram do. The only exception to this break had been agricultural families, but with the increasing transformation from family to corporate farms, even that is going away.

    Abram was separated from his family and land by choice. Yes, it was God’s direction, but in his culture, leaving was a big break. While he had his household, he was now a household of wanderers. Where is home for such wandering group? By leaving the ties of the land, Abram would now effectively be a guest wherever he went.

    Ruth was the same. Yes, she had married an Israelite, but he was dead. She didn’t have to leave her homeland. However, in her heart she had made a decision that her husband’s family was truly her own, breaking her family ties. What made her decision even more significant was that all that was left of her husband’s immediate family was his widowed mother. Not much of a family structure for support. Now that Ruth and Naomi were back in Israelite land, Ruth was now responsible for both. By the grace of God, she fell into the care of Boaz, a distant relative. Boaz welcomed her above and beyond a servant. He truly welcomed her to his table to eat. She had no functional value to him, yet he welcomed her.

    And welcoming others to the table is what Job did, too. He was righteous in this. It wasn’t that he had a long line of people that would take advantage of this ( strong cultural taboo against it), so turning people away likely didn’t happen. He welcomed people to the table.

    1) Abram was a guest. Why would other landowners welcome him to their table? Why might they not?

    2) Culturally, much of American culture has turned away from welcoming strangers (hospitality). Why do you think that is? When do you think it started to change?

    3) Generations Community Church (along with the Church of the Nazarene) practices “Open Communion.” How does that apply to Abram, Ruth, and Job? How do Abram, Ruth, and Job apply to “Open Communion?”

  • Cup of Blessing

    Psalm 16, Luke 24:13–35

    Psalm 16 is considered by many to be a Messianic Psalm. Peter and Paul both seemed to have some agreement on this as they appear to have referenced as it appears to be referenced to by them in a number of places. One of the contrasts is the cup of blood (v4) and the cup of blessing (v5). The cup of blood is what is used to pour out the drink offering. This is a play on the “right” drink offering before God, which was the fruit of the vine. Instead, this blood offering is an unrighteous offering, not only because of the conflict of the drink offering but also—and primarily—the offering was to a god other than God. In other words, those who were making these blood offerings had chosen to follow false gods for their security.

    On the contrary, the cup of blessing is a Godly portion which holds promise and blessing. The cup of blessing comes with an inheritance. The cup of blessing comes with Godly fortitude (not false fortitude). The cup of blessing comes with security. And, lastly, the cup of blessing comes with the path of eternal life. With all of that, one can easily see why Messianic is applied to this psalm, especially in the context of communion.

    In the context of scripture (and yesterday’s sermon), we have talked about the institution of communion, which was Jesus’ Last Supper with his disciples, and was observed within the context of Passover. One could say that Cleopas and the other disciple (some believe it was his wife) experienced the first “true” communion. In many ways, it is the exclamation point on Paul’s words, “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes”(1 Corinthians 11:26). Seeing is believing. They saw their Lord alive after he was dead, and declared alive again. They became witnesses to his bodily resurrection. What a way to know in your heart what the new covenant included!

    1) Do you remember your first communion? If not, that’s okay. If you do, what do you remember? Do you remember the last communion you took? If so, what do you remember?

    2) In certain church communities communion is taken individually Why do you think that is? Generations Community this coming Sunday, will take communion in framily groups? Why is this important?

    3) Why is the individual and group taking of communion important? What does this tell us about church-, faith-, and community-life?

  • Drawing Waters of Salvation

    Isaiah 12:2–6, Jeremiah 31:31–34, Luke 22:14–20

    Isaiah is often not filled with much encouragement. This particular “song”, however, is a pronouncement of the saved telling the unsaved that they can be saved.

    Isaiah starts out with his salvation, and that his relationship with God is sound. He then tells the wayward hearer that they will joyfully (note they are miserable) draw water of their salvation. Then they will sing praises to God. Springs of salvation, or could we say Living Water? What do you think?

    Water is life. This is a special truth in the desert, where water is scarce. From a scriptural standpoint, blood is the life of a creature. Thus when we come to communion, we are to consider both the aspect of blood as life (Jesus’ blood) and water as life (Jesus is the living water). When Isaiah speaks about the spring of salvation, it is reasonable to see a foreshadowing of communion.

    With its darker tone (the blood of Jesus), it is also easy to see that this is not quite what had happened before, yet had similar attributes to the sacrificial practices of the Israelites. When Jeremiah speaks of a new covenant, there is little chance that the Israelites would have expected how that covenant would come to be. That this new covenant also changes how the “law” worked would also be beyond expectation. How would the Israelites “know” God’s law? It is not until the Holy Spirit is fully expressed that an understanding of this new way of the law fully revealed. There is also a special promise in Jeremiah’s New Covenant speech. If we all know God’s law, and have to be neither taught nor teach (admonish) others. Looking at the world around us, and our own lives, the only way that happens is if we fully yield ourselves to God. Yielding ourselves to God often starts with the simple acknowledgment that we cannot fully understand God.

    The disciples didn’t fully understand God, and they spent 3 years with Jesus! Have you heard, if only Jesus were here, we’d get the real/whole story, and we’d understand (or even believe). If his disciples who were with him (even one going so far as to betray him) for years didn’t get it, would we be any more likely? With our post-Enlightenment and scientific tendencies, we might be even less likely to understand! Even Judas Iscariot (the betrayer) up to this point didn’t get what this specific night meant for the future. They were just celebrating Passover with Jesus.

    When we celebrate communion (a sacrament), we become participants in this last meal.

    Instead of the usual questions at the end (besides, there were plenty of questions already), we will end with Book of Common Prayer, Contemporary Collect for the Fourth Sunday of Lent:

    Gracious Father, whose blessed Son Jesus Christ came down from heaven to be the true bread which gives life to the world:
    Evermore give us this bread, that he may live in us, and we in him;
    who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
    one God, now and for ever. Amen.

    US Book of Common Prayer, 2007
  • The Proper Guest

    Psalm 104:1–15, John 6:53–58, 1 Corinthians 11:17–11:27

    From the Christian perspective, God breathed life into us. We’re not just talking about the lungs, but the spiritual life, too. God is the great sustainer. While there are those whose perspective of God is the Clockwork God (the concept that God started the whole thing and “walked away”) and others for whom it is only biological life and no spirit, most people seem to be between. The two “extremes” operate within the framework that God is not active, and God does not interact with creation. Again, because one perspective has God off who knows where, and the other perspective has no God (or other “force” for that matter). There is an odd in-between version of the Holy Spirit as a non-personal “force”, but that is even harder to comprehend.
    From an orthodox Christian perspective, without God’s spirit, we would truly be nothing more than mere biological machines. When we look at humanity, despite its often horrible state, we cannot help perceiving that there is something far more significant than just being a machine.

    What happens, though, when someone takes normal things and makes them anything but normal? Ask Jesus.

    When Jesus calls on people to eat his flesh and drink his blood, let’s be honest, it isn’t normal. The church has long held the view that there is definitely something going on here. On one hand, there are those that believe that when we take communion, we are literally (not just spiritually) eating the flesh and drinking the blood of Jesus (called transubstantiation, if you want to know). There are those that believe that it is merely (and only) a memorial, we do it solely because Jesus (and Paul) told us to (which are good reasons), and because the church has done it for centuries (tradition is not a bad reason either). There are two other major perspectives. Consubstantiation is a belief that it is both body and bread, and blood and wine. The last belief is that while it is “just” bread and wine (in the Nazarene and other denominations, grape juice), it is far more than “just” that. There is an understanding that Jesus is present at the table presiding over communion, in the same spirit as the Last Supper.

    Think of that. You’re eating in the presence of Jesus, as a guest.

    Regardless of your perspective on communion, the church (Orthodox to Roman Catholic to Protestant) calls it a sacrament. What is a sacrament? It is something instituted by an act of Jesus. Within the larger Protestant grouping, it is one of two sacraments, the other being baptism. Other traditions count additional acts as sacraments, but communion and baptism are universal.

    There is another aspect that is crucial to the sacraments…ourselves. Sacraments are instituted by God, so we don’t make them holy. However, Paul warns everyone to take them seriously. This is why an understanding of at whose table you are eating is so important. Not only are you eating and drinking with your local church family, there is the larger denomination, the church as a whole (again, across denominations), and with the church universal (both before and after us). It should never be something approached flippantly. This does not you cannot be joyful. In fact, joyful and thankful should be the exact perspective we bring to the table.

    1) For some communion should be done rarely; at most, once a month. For others, communion is weekly. For others still, it is every worship (which can be many times in a week). What is your perspective? Why? Can you see why others might have a different perspective?

    2) Do you ever think of Jesus hosting your table during communion? Does that impact how you view communion, and your participation in it?

    3) Why do you think Jesus and Paul emphasize the body and blood? What is the significance of those two words?