So, the last couple weeks I’ve gotten into ecclesiology: the
study and theology of the church. I’ve talked about what the church isn’t, what
the church could be, and what makes the church the church. Today I want to talk
a little about one of the most important rituals of the church, which is
communion, or the eucharist.
Communion has become a point of debate in the last few
decades as we continue to react to our past. In the Middle Ages, the Catholic
Church developed the doctrine of transubstantiation, which states that in the
ritual of the Eucharist, the bread and wine’s substance objectively changes in
the hands of the priest into the actual body and real blood of Christ, so that
even though it still feels, looks, and tastes just like bread and wine, the
grace of God has changed it into flesh and blood. This, along with the belief
that you could not be saved without regularly taking part in this ritual, gave
the priests and the church an incredible amount of power in the eyes of the
people.
As a reaction against what seemed like the overly mystical
nature of transubstantiation and the abuse of the power which these doctrines
gave the priests, parts of the church swung completely to the other extreme (as
humans are notoriously good at doing). There is absolutely nothing mystical
about communion, they say, that there is neither salvific nor any other kind of
power in it. Communion is merely a symbol and, therefore, it really doesn’t
matter if or how we observe the ritual at all.
I would like to
challenge that based on my posts from the previous few weeks. I will not attempt
to prove that there is anything mystical about the ritual, but I do want to
challenge us to think more carefully about when and how we participate in
communion.
The first reason why we must observe the ritual of communion
is simply because Christ told us to. He and his followers enjoined the early
church to take part in the Lord’s Supper often, and to observe it in certain
ways. As followers of Christ, we must follow His instructions.
Further than that, though, the ritual does have power to
constitute the church, even without any mystical add-ons. Paul spoke of communion
in I Corinthians 10:17 saying that we [the members of the church] are one
because we share in the one loaf of the body of Christ. We humans are social
creatures, and there is a special place in our social makeup for rituals. Every
group has rituals that seal its members to each other. Tailgating before a
football game would be one example, ritualized greetings (Hey, how’s it going?),
traditions like Cinco de Mayo and the 4th of July are all secular
examples of rituals that help instill group identity. When members of a group
all do the same thing at the same time it sets them apart from the rest of
humanity and says “We stand together.”
Communion works just the same way in the church. It isn’t
and wasn’t ever supposed to be a ritual of personal devotion, but one of
corporate identity and constitution. We are one because we all share in this
one loaf and this one cup.
Not only does it help form our corporate Christian identity,
it is also a public and concrete rehearsal or testimony of the way Christ knits
us together. In my last post I argued that the church’s internal structure is
perichoretic and Christocentric. If I live in Christ and Christ lives in you,
then I necessarily live in you; and if you live in Christ and Christ live in
me, then you must also live in me. Our mutual participation in Christ
necessarily links us into one another. Communion is a graphic representation of
this. As I eat of the bread, and you eat of the same bread, and as we both
drink from the same cup, we are joined to Christ and thus to each other,
forming the Church.
Of course, if God has endued communion with more mystical powers to affect its
participants, which is certainly within His power to do, then the ritual
becomes all the more important; but even without that, communion is one of the
most important rituals of the church and deserves much careful thought and
discernment in how we observe it.
There are too many implications of this theology to go into
here, but there are two specific things that I’d like to point out. First,
communion reminds us that our sin is not simply personal. As I come to the
table, I’m bringing all that I have with me into the church, including my
unresolved sin. As I join myself to Christ, He accepts all of me, just as I am;
and any sin I have clinging to my spirit goes into the church as well. My
personal issues are not simply my personal issues when I go to commune at the
table. In communion, they become an issue for the church I join myself to.
Second, the way we celebrate communion affects how we relate
to each other in the church. In South Africa, the way that the church
celebrated communion was a precursor to apartheid. Some of the white Christians
were hesitant to put their lips to the same cup which the poorer black
Christians drank from; they were worried about germs and diseases. So the
church responded by setting up separate tables for whites and blacks; separate
loaves, separate cups. It wasn’t long before there were two separate churches,
and subsequently full blown apartheid. The way we celebrate communion affects
the way we relate to one another, and vice-versa.
So as you participate and/or officiate over communion, think
about the importance of what you’re doing and be careful. An individualized
communion betrays the very heart of what communion is supposed to be. Communion
is a form of communication, and we must be careful what messages we sow into
the nature of the church through this ritual. What we do at the table, and how
we come to the table matters; communion forms the church.