AnglicanChristian TraditionsEastern OrthodoxLutheran (LCMS)Non-DenominationalReformedRoman CatholicRound TableSeeking

Round Table: Communion

Perhaps no facet of Christian theology is more important and more often debated than understandings of Communion. Instituted by the Lord Jesus the night before his death, the practice of communing with fellow Christians using bread and wine (or, in some early Christian communities, cheese and wine) reaches back to the earliest Jesus Movement and continues to form and define Christians today.

In order to demonstrate both the unity and diversity of Christian perspectives on Communion, we have asked our authors to respond to the following question: “What is Communion, and what role does it play in your faith?” There are six perspectives on Communion below, each followed by short responses by the rest of the contributors to this Round Table discussion. We invite you to join the discussion.


Anglican Perspective

Our forefathers ate manna in the desert just as the scripture says, “He gave them bread out of Heaven to eat.”To which Jesus replied, “Yes, but what matters is not that Moses gave you bread from Heaven, but that my Father is giving you the true bread from Heaven. For the bread of God which comes down from Heaven gives life to the world.”This made them say to him, “Lord, please give us this bread, always!”Then Jesus said to them, “I myself am the bread of life. The man who comes to me will never be hungry and the man who believes in me will never again be thirsty.

—John 6:31-35 (PHILLIPS)

Reading John chapter six has always been difficult for me. I find myself reading a first century text with a twentieth century mindset (as that is the century into which my parents and I were born). This means that as I begin to read this uncomfortable text, I try to shoo it away by thinking it must be figurative. Granted, Jesus spoke in metaphors and parables quite often, hiding the truth in obvious stories.

John six, however, is not like that. Jesus radically says, “Unless you do eat the body of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you are not really living at all. The man who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life and I will raise him up when the last day comes. For my body is real food and my blood is real drink. The man who eats my body and drinks my blood shares my life and I share his.” (John 6:53-56, PHILLIPS)

No wonder Jesus’ own disciples call these things “a hard teaching”, wondering who could accept it. I wonder if I can accept it. “My body is real food and my blood is real drink” sounds very literal to me. My inner process of explaining away begins to whirl. Yet I cannot explain away this chapter of John’s gospel. I don’t know Greek and I don’t know Jesus well enough to read the tone to see if there is metaphor that I am missing.

Is it any wonder, then, that I attend an Anglican church? The Eucharist is not something I can explain easily or readily. It is both physical and spiritual. It is real and mysterious. Partly I comprehend; partly I partake of wafer and wine in faith. I know the Eucharist as symbol and as substance. Yes, I must be Anglican in this.

Anglicans, you see, tend to want things both ways in certain situations. In this case, the bread and wine are symbolic reminders of the last supper of Christ and His disciples. However, the bread and the wine are the spiritual food and drink for our inner man. As article XXVIII of the Book of Common Prayer points out: “…insomuch that to such as rightly, worthily, and with faith, receive the same, the Bread which we break is a partaking of the Body of Christ; and likewise the Cup of Blessing is a partaking of the Blood of Christ…”1 In this first section we have the literal reading of John six. In the final paragraph of the same article, however, we read this: “The Body of Christ is given, taken, and eaten, in the Supper, only after an heavenly and spiritual manner. And the mean whereby the Body of Christ is received and eaten in the Supper is Faith.”2 Are you scratching your head at Anglicans yet? The wine and the wafer stay wine and wafer, but spiritually we are feeding on the body and blood of Jesus.

Having been on the altar guild at church for a brief stint, I learned that after the service, any undrunk wine in the communal chalice was dumped directly into the ground. This wine could not be saved, yet as it had been blessed (set apart as holy); we treated it with reverence, not wanting to send it through the sewer, but pouring it directly back into the earth. It was still wine, but somehow it is also more than wine. I appreciate this reverence in the handling of the wine (and bread) that have been blessed.

All of this said, what does the Eucharist really do? Is my life changed by the fact that a wafer melts on my tongue and the wine burns down my throat each Sunday? I believe I am changed. After drinking the wine the chalice bearer says, “Drink this in remembrance that Christ’s Blood was shed for thee, and be thankful.” I am thus reminded that the word “Eucharist” comes from the Greek eukharistia, which means “thanksgiving, gratitude.” The root word being kharis, meaning “favour, grace.”3 When God shows us gracious favour, how can our response be anything but gratitude? Thus, the act of kneeling to receive the bread and wine each week feeds my spirit; but it also leads me to giving thanks for God’s grace.

If I begin my weeks with thanksgiving to God for His unspeakable gift, won’t that change the tenor of the week? Am I not more likely to stop and give thanks in all things, not just the good, but the hard, too? Some may argue that it does nothing of the sort, and perhaps it does not for someone who has grown up—or at least, grown stale—as an Anglican. Perhaps for some it is rote, but for one who has begun to celebrate the Eucharist with an Anglican mindset later in their Christian faith, this act sets the stage for the week. I am physically involving my senses in receiving the Life of Christ and in giving thanks in return. It is both physical and spiritual. It is real and mysterious…And I am grateful.

Show Sources

Jody Byrkett

Senior Editor at Conciliar Post

Show Catholic Response

Show Lutheran Response

Show Orthodox Response

Show Reformed Response

Show Searching Response

Show Zwinglian Response


Catholic Perspective

The Eucharist is called the “source and summit of the Christian life.” The Catechism of the Catholic Church speaks at length about its institution by Jesus, sacramental significance, and how we believe that the Bread and Wine, by the work of the Holy Spirit, become the Body and Blood of Jesus the Christ. It’s the focal point of Mass, which is celebrated daily all around the world, and is never separated from reading Scripture. It’s too profound a mystery and too deeply seated in Scripture for me to justly summarize here, so I will just speak from my own experience.

Recently, I went to St. Vincent de Paul Parish in Fort Wayne, Indiana and sat in the gorgeous church to pray. The ceiling was incredibly high, well situated around the raised sanctuary where it continued up and allowed rays of light to enter the room. Pews were angled on all sides with various places to pray on the periphery, and it was peaceful. Quiet. Fascinating paintings were along the walls, and inviting statues of the Saints sat beside kneelers and candles in various corners. And in the middle were the podium, chairs, and a tall, wooden tree in the shape of the Cross with a crucified Jesus upon it. But one important thing was missing: the Tabernacle, the locked box, of sorts, that the priest keeps the consecrated host for Mass and veneration (namely the Body of Jesus in full divinity) was missing. It’s always the first thing I look for. The crucifix is just a reminder of Who is really there.

I got up and followed a side door on the right side until I came to a small room with stained glass featuring angels on all sides, light pouring over the Tabernacle, which stood in front of a handful of pews. One young lady was there. I didn’t know what to say, but I was so excited that I had finally found Him that I sat down, taking a few minutes out of my busy day to fall on my knees and just sit with Him. Nothing else. Just sit.

Later, I told Fr. Dan what had happened, being surprised about its location, and he called my search the “Instinct of the Faith.”

I wish I could describe what that’s like to the uninitiated, but it’s not something I fully understand myself. Only God could reveal Himself in such an awesome and mysterious way. While attending non-traditional churches with hour-long sermons, huge choirs, and jubilant worship, I feel excited and even edified by what the preacher says, but it’s always been supplementary to the celebration of the Mass, which isn’t centered around human beings and what they have to say (although some priests have a knack for good homilies). I’m there to encounter Jesus, not just in some spiritual sense, but in a real and material sense, even if I cannot, at that moment, partake in Communion because of some mortal sin.

What is before me is the Living God. When I see the Eucharist, I see the victory of the Cross and its power over death. I see the Manna from Heaven, my daily bread. I see the Tree of Life, once removed from humanity. I see the Passover Lamb, standing as if slain—and so much more. My eyes which gaze upon the plain bread and wine cannot be fooled by what Scripture—and what the First Christians—celebrated as the Last Supper and the anticipation of the Wedding Feast of the Lamb. It’s God hiding in plain sight.

Michael Shelton

Author at Conciliar Post

Show Anglican Response

Show Lutheran Response

Show Orthodox Response

Show Reformed Response

Show Searching Response

Show Zwinglian Response


Lutheran Perspective

When I initially started thinking about what to include in this post, I felt more than a little overwhelmed. The Lord’s Supper is instrumental in shaping what it means to be a Christian, and honestly I can think of only a handful of topics that could possibly be considered more important to our faiths and more defining of our varied denominations. However, last week when I was talking with my father (a Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod pastor) in anticipation of this post, he pointed something out me that I believe does an excellent job of really getting to the heart of things.

Even though the fact that Lord’s Supper is so fundamentally important and significant, it is also incredibly straightforward and simple.

What the Eucharist is, what it does, and what role it should play in our lives is laid out very clearly for us in the Bible:

“While they were eating, Jesus took some bread, and after a blessing, He broke it and gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is My body.” And when He had taken a cup and given thanks, He gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you; for this is My blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.” (Matthew 26:26-28 NASB)

“While they were eating, He took some bread, and after a blessing He broke it, and gave it to them, and said, “Take it; this is My body.” And when He had taken a cup and given thanks, he gave it to them, and they all drank from it. And he said to them, “This is My blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many.” (Mark 14:22-24 NASB)

“And when He had taken some bread and given thanks, He broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is My body which is given for you; this do in remembrance of Me.” And in the same way He took the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup which is poured out for you is the new covenant in My blood.” (Luke 22:19-20 NASB)

Matthew, Mark, and Luke use slightly different wording, but they are all recording the same message and they are recording it pretty clearly. Jesus tells us “This is My body,” and he tells us “This is My blood.” Therefore, I have no reason to believe anything different. Additionally, Jesus tells us to take His body and His blood and consume them. Therefore, I cannot legitimately justify doing anything different. Lastly, He tells us that we are given His body and His blood for the forgiveness of our sins and as a covenant with Him.

Human reason may not be able to comprehend or understand why or how these things can be true, but if God is able to make Himself man and die for the salvation of the whole world, then why would we question whether or not He could turn bread and wine into His very body and blood?

Communion is the body and blood of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, it is given and shed for me and for all believers for the forgiveness of sins, and it sits at the very heart of my faith. There is certainly more that could be said, but honestly, after you have read Matthew, Mark, and Luke’s passages, what more needs to be said?

Nicholai Stuckwisch

Author at Conciliar Post

Show Anglican Response

Show Catholic Response

Show Orthodox Response

Show Reformed Response

Show Searching Response

Show Zwinglian Response


Orthodox Perspective

The Eucharist is a Holy Mystery. It is what differentiates Christianity from every other religion, pagan cult, and secular gathering. Within it is contained the mystery of life and the economy of salvation. It is the body and blood of Christ—a partaking of the very sacrifice offered on the cross—which is the medicine of immortality,1 the food of salvation.2 When we commune in remembrance of Christ,3 our remembrance is one of actual participation (anamnesis) in His body and blood and sacrifice on the cross, not mere reminiscence (mneia).4 The carnal man cannot survive without food, neither can the spiritual man live without this Bread of God,5 which is not like common bread and drink.6 While earthly food is transformed into our bodies, resulting in temporary survival, the heavenly food transforms us into Christ’s body.7 In this very real sense, participation in the Eucharist is how we abide in Christ,8 how we become partakers of the divine nature,9 and what constitutes unity among Christians as the body of Christ.10

The Eucharist is, without question, the centerpiece of Christian life. Only recently has Christ’s Eucharistic institution been dethroned from its primary place in Christian worship. Historically, such an act would be akin to voluntary condemnation and spiritual death.11 We have it backwards. The problem with Adam was that he ate; the problem with modern man is that he does not. Christian communities without the Eucharist, regardless of their nature, are merely moral subsets of secular society which have distorted sacred scripture, ignored Paul’s exhortation to stand fast in Holy Tradition,12 and have been taken captive by the traditions of men.13 Christianity without the Eucharist is an implicit rejection of the incarnation, an eviction notice from the physical world to God, and structured on moralism. Christianity, however, is about participation in the life of Christ, not do’s and don’ts or rational assent to dogmatic propositions. His Eminence Metropolitan Kallistos asks,

What is the fundamental ‘action of the church’? It is surely the celebration of the Eucharist, the divine liturgy. At the last supper, Christ instructed his apostles not say this, but do this. He gave them an action, not just words.14

We are told that, if you do not eat of the Lord’s body and blood, you have no life in you.15 What does all of this mean for the modern Christian who does not understand the Eucharist in this manner?  I do not know, but God is merciful. What I do know is that I am in much greater need of God’s mercy than anyone else. Ultimately, the Eucharist is a mystery. Just like the Virgin Birth, Incarnation, and the Holy Trinity, it supersedes all human reasoning and rationale. I cannot convince you of anything, but I am entreating you to prayerfully behold the mystery, reflect and read, and perhaps even question what you currently believe about the Eucharist. And finally, to taste and see that the Lord is good.16

View Sources

Ben Cabe

Editor-in-Chief at Conciliar Post

BenCabe.com

Show Anglican Response

Show Catholic Response

Show Lutheran Response

Show Reformed Response

Show Searching Response

Show Zwinglian Response


Reformed Perspective

Growing up, I always thought it odd that certain types of Christians placed so much emphasis on the Lord’s Supper (silly Catholics). After all, Christianity is fundamentally about Christ dying for my sins and a personal relationship with Jesus Christ (right?). However, I was raised with a sense that Communion was a serious matter, a symbol with real significance. My father, during our once-a-month ritual, would always solemnly pray following the meal, mouthing his repentance for past sins and gratefulness for Christ’s sacrifice.

Coming to college, I began to attend a Presbyterian church. Here, the ritual was at the climax of the service, and was eaten each week! It was as if the entire liturgy, worship, and preaching were leading up to “taste and see that the Lord is good.” Further, the congregation is urged to worship as they partook, not merely to confess sin and recognize Christ’s atoning sacrifice. From the feel of the ritual, I intuitively understand a celebration of Christ’s victory, a mourning of my own sin, and a nourishment by the grace of God. Now within a congregation that serves the meal each week (!), I wake up on Sunday excited about the emotions, significance, and nourishment that result from the service.

For the rest of this response, I hope to elucidate the theology of the Reformed tradition that undergirds my experience of Communion each week. I by no means consider myself an expert on the disagreements between the traditions (that’s why we do Round Tables, right?), nor do I feel qualified to present any definitive “Reformed” answer to the question. However, in this response I will be presenting the Reformed understanding of the Supper, as well as arguments as to why the Reformed view is correct, utilizing Herman Bavinck (19th century Dutch Reformed theologian) and Michael Horton (21st century Westminster Seminary).

Horton summarizes the Reformed view of Communion as “a meal in which God ratifies his covenant of grace by feeding believers with Christ’s true body and blood in heaven through the power of the Spirit.”1 The purpose of the Supper is, according to Bavinck, “above all a gift of God, not our memorial and confession…It must first of all be regarded as a message and assurance to us of divine grace signifying the mystical union of the believer with Jesus Christ.”2 The benefits that result are “foremost the strengthening of the believer’s communion with Christ,”3 for we share in Christ’s benefits—the forgiveness of sins and “hope of eternal life and of a blessed resurrection on the last day.”4 “Finally, the Lord’s Supper also serves as the confession of our faith before the world and strengthens the communion of believers among themselves. Believers are one in Christ and therefore also one among themselves.”5 Horton, against a Zwinglian view, clarifies the “remembering” that occurs in the sacrament, one that is not mere recollection, but is “participating here and now in certain defining events in the past and also in the future.”6

The primary Reformed critique of Catholics and Lutherans (and Orthodox, it seems) lies in eschatology. Christ has been resurrected by God and is ascended at the right hand of the Father. The church is the people of God who live between the “already” of salvation through faith by the Holy Spirit and a “not yet” Kingdom of God in which Christ will descend and finally reign. Horton interprets John 14-16 in this light, “over and beyond all of the post-resurrection meals that Jesus shared with his disciples, the meal that we now share occurs on this side of the ascension and Pentecost. In the power of the Spirit, we not only recognize Jesus as the Christ; we receive a foretaste of the eschatological feast (the marriage supper of the Lamb). Yet it is not the fully consummated reality. If “Zwinglian” views tend to eclipse our present participation in the eschatological feast, Roman Catholic and Lutheran views exhibit an overrealized eschatology of the Eucharist, resolving the productive tension between the “already” and “not yet” that this covenant meal not only reveals but intensifies.”7 Bavinck summarizes the argument, “[The Lord’s Supper] is a communion with the person of Christ that does not consist in a physical descent of Christ from heaven, nor even in a mixture or transfusion of the flesh of Christ with our souls, but in the elevation of our hearts heavenward, in a union with Christ by the Holy Spirit.”8

View Sources

George Aldhizer

Author at Conciliar Post

Show Anglican Response

Show Catholic Response

Show Lutheran Response

Show Orthodox Response

Show Searching Response

Show Zwinglian Response


Searching Perspective

Before answering our Round Table question, I feel a brief word is in order regarding my status as a “Searching” Perspective. My wife and I are in the midst of a multi-year Church Search, where we have been learning about, visiting, and engaging numerous different churches and denominations in an attempt to determine where we best fit within the People of God. This process has led us to think and consider (and rethink and reconsider) many facets of what we believe and why we have believed it. Accordingly, though my perspective may (in some respects) be similar to those of the other Round Table contributors, I do not (yet) have a specific tradition which I may officially affiliate myself. Yet I wanted to write something for this Round Table, if for no other reason than to demonstrate that those of us at Conciliar Post do not all pretend to have the answers, that we are all still on journey’s of faith, and that some of us are at a stage of change and transition on the journey.

Now, onto speaking about Communion: What is it and how does it impact my faith? For me, Communion is the sacramental participation in the body and blood of our Lord Jesus, a visible and real “joining together” with our Lord that, among other things, is a foreshadowing of our eventual union with Him in the new Heaven and new Earth. I think a good explication of this are the three English terms that are often used to describe this Christian meal: Communion, the Lord’s Supper, and the Eucharist. The term “Communion” reminds us that through this meal we are in relationship, not only with God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—but also with our fellow Christians. And not only the fellow Christians with whom we commune at our individual churches or within our specific denomination, but Christians of all times and places. This is where I often have concerns with “Closed Communion”, where churches only allow members to participate—this is one of the saddest examples of the Church not being united. Through Communion we unite, not only symbolically, but in some deeper sense as well, with the Invisible Church.

Likewise, the “Lord’s Supper” indicates important aspects of the how we should understand this meal. First, we should remember that the Lord Jesus Himself established and commanded the breaking of bread on the night of His betrayal. That is, Communion is not some ritualistic “corruption” of Christianity that the “papists” or “heretics” inappropriately made a central part of the Christian faith. Rather, the Lord’s Supper was given by our Lord to His people as a means of grace, forgiveness of sins, and remembrance of his sacrifice. Second, speaking of the Lord’s Supper should remind us about what the Lord said at the institution of this supper, namely, “Take; this is my body” and “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many” (Mark 14.22, 24). While different traditions debate the precise meaning of “is” here, there is something to be said for a childlike faith that takes Jesus at His word rather than trying to play un-contextualized semantic games to make these words sound less paradigm-altering than they are. Additionally, I find unconvincing arguments concerning “symbolic” representation within the First Century context, where this concept presupposed something real and beyond the immediately visible of which a symbol meaningfully partook, not as the ontologically empty, abstract “reminisces” that symbols are often understood as today.

A third term applied to this sacrament is “Eucharist”, which is derived from the Greek εὐχαριστία and means “thanksgiving”, an indication of Christian thankfulness for Christ’s once and for all, time-transcending sacrifice on the cross. Our participation in the Eucharistic meal demonstrates our continual thankfulness for Christ’s grace, and serves as a reminder of our need to love and make sacrifices for others (1 John 4.19). The historic use of this term should also cause us to consider the Church’s historic stance upon the Eucharist, which has been spoken of from the earliest days as the “medicine of immortality”1 and the body and blood of Jesus for the power of those who follow Him.2

Hopefully my digressions into each of these three terms have indicated the manner in which I hope communion impacts my faith, as a communal meal that encourages us to unite with our Brothers and Sisters in Christ, as a reminder of the historic reality of Christ and all that pronouncement means, and as a means of grace participating in the sacrificial death and resurrection of Jesus the Anointed. To conclude my thoughts on Communion and its importance, I affirm the words of Irenaeus of Lyons from Against Heresies 5.2.2:

“If our flesh is not saved, then the Lord has not redeemed us with his blood, the eucharistic chalice does not make us sharers in his blood, and the bread we break does not make us sharers in his body. There can be no blood without veins, flesh and the rest of the human substance, and this the Word of God actually became: it was with his own blood that he redeemed us. As the Apostle says: In him, through his blood, we have been redeemed, our sins have been forgiven.”

Show Sources

Jacob Prahlow

Managing Editor at Conciliar Post

Pursuing Veritas

Show Anglican Response

Show Catholic Response

Show Lutheran Response

Show Orthodox Response

Show Reformed Response

Show Zwinglian Response


Zwinglian Perspective

I love remembering Christ, His sacrifice, and His promise to come again. I grew up in a non-denominational church with Baptist leanings, and, in that context, we took the bread and cup in hand at regular intervals–almost always monthly, and at times more often than that. Our communion was open, prayerful and reflective.

However, I confess that sometimes I treated these moments lightly, or as mere ritual, or a matter of “fitting it in before the final hymn,” and in that respect, I often failed to honor Jesus. I have repented of that negligence. I love what Communion means; I love even more the Savior to whom this symbolic ordinance is dedicated, and I want my participation in the sacred meal to bring Him honor.

As a pastor, I often worried that my people were missing the heart of Communion, or going through rote motions without really “considering” the body and blood of the Lord. Our church began addressing this question with more focused observances, and, in some cases, entire events dedicated to them. For example, we set aside the Thursday of Easter week to celebrate the Last Supper–with an elegant evening dinner, confession and prayer around tables, literal breaking of bread loaves, and (as best as we knew how), times of rich, Cross-centered worship, readings and exhortations.

Those moments were rich with love and grace. We were seeking to bring the plain interpretation of the Scriptures to bear in our real world experience. This led us to joyful song, tearful consideration of the Cross, hearty fellowship and humble confession of sin and prayer for each other.

I always look for the Bible’s obvious meaning, unless deeper interpretation is called for based on the literary genre of the biblical passage in question. Thus far on my spiritual journey, my studies into the primary texts regarding the breaking of bread have led me to what some call the “memorialist” position. These texts are Matthew 26:26-29, Mark 14:22-25, Luke 22:14-20, 1 Corinthians 10:16, 11:17-34, and, possibly, Acts 2:42-47. (Although John 6 could also be referenced here, the passage seems to more plainly address our need for salvation, and does not in my view appear to be a prescription for a “literal” feast on Christ’s body and blood at Last Supper observances).

Jesus commands us to remember Him through this special meal, in the same way the nation of Israel was commanded to remember their salvation through the Passover meal. The meals themselves were not the issue–they were means by which to remember the great rescue God had provided! Christ’s work on the Cross is to be remembered, never repeated. Jesus sacrificed himself for me in real space-time, about 2,000 years ago, a perfect Lamb, once for all. This became the legal basis for my justification before God (Romans 3:20-26).

I praise my resurrected Savior for making this unrighteous soul right, for redeeming what was broken, condemned and lost. In celebration, then, I partake of bread representing His broken body, and a cup symbolizing His shed blood, with a thankful heart. By His wonderful grace, I have been saved. Thank you, Jesus!

Dan Jarvis

Guest Author

Show Anglican Response

Show Catholic Response

Show Lutheran Response

Show Orthodox Response

Show Reformed Response

Show Searching Response


photo courtesy of Timothy J. Ritter

Various

Various

Round Table discussions offer insights into important issues from numerous Conciliar Post authors. Authors focus on a specific question or topic and respond with concise and precise summaries of their perspective, allowing readers to engage multiple viewpoints within the scope of one article.

Previous post

The Divine Art of Funny

Next post

Rain Glory