Jesus
is a master communicator. He is known for, among other things, his
clever and concise story explanations for complex things. He would
regularly draw out the inner workings of his listeners’ hearts—even
exposing areas of which we ourselves were previously unaware—with
accessible, yet provocative, parables about everyday life. With this
young Galilean, you didn’t need to be an elite theologian or have a
PhD in eschatology to get a taste of the kingdom of God. Jesus would
explain it in down to earth, blue collar terms that resonated with
his disciples and took root in their hearts. This talent for simple
and effective communication is especially seen in Jesus' use of food
and drink to convey the core of the Gospel—namely, that he is the
Bread of Life.
After
miraculously feeding a crowd of over five thousand people, Jesus
explained to them that he was the “true bread from heaven” sent
to satisfy their hunger and to give them life (John 6:32-33). He
likened himself to the mysterious manna that God provided to the
Israelites in the wilderness, and he claimed they would need to feast
on his flesh and drink his blood if they wanted to live. This bizarre
declaration wasn't any less jarring in Aramaic. There’s no
linguistic nuance or cultural filter that makes his sentiment any
more palatable. Jesus’ apparent invitation—no,
insistence—that his followers cannibalize him was received as both
disgusting and insane. Many of them left over this sermon. Even the
Twelve were shaken but ultimately had “nowhere else to go.”
Later
in the upper room, on the night he was betrayed, Jesus repeated this
earlier controversial sentiment. He retooled the Passover meal, that
was first enacted on the eve of the Exodus, in order to celebrate and
declare an even greater deliverance. The Lord's Supper is one of two
rituals that Jesus personally instituted among his followers
(interestingly, his diverse body can rarely agree on the meaning or
mechanics of either of these two rituals. In many cases, we've
allowed practices that were originally designed to unite us to
instead divide us). There are quite a few indicators that
throughout the 1st Century Church the regular celebration of the
Lord's Supper became the main event when the people of God would
gather.
Breadcrumbs
Leading to Jesus
Bread
(a staple food item that represents basic sustenance in most
cultures) is an essential element of human life that comes from
outside of us. Like oxygen, we need it to survive, yet we can’t
produce it ourselves from within.
God
has designed human beings with an internal mechanism that reminds us
of our need for this external sustenance. Dirt, rocks, sticks and
such won't do. Only food will satisfy our hunger.
However,
the bread won’t benefit us until we consume it. And it won't force
itself down our throats and into our stomachs. We must decide if we
will eat or not. In fact, we might have quite a bit of observable
knowledge about bread and the human digestive system, but it's the
one who partakes—even if they know nothing of how it works—that
actually benefits from bread (and, in the end, has a greater sort of
knowledge about bread).
Once
we eat the bread, our body begins to metabolize it. The bread
essentially becomes a part of us. It nourishes us and fuels our body
from within. It gives us life.
And
lastly, the bread is destroyed in the eating. We can't have our bread
and eat it too. The bread simply won't survive its encounter with us
if all these other things are going to happen.
Everything
we've just considered about bread is of course obvious. The benefits
of eating and drinking are intuitively understood, even by very small
children, and, as previously stated, can be experienced apart from
knowing how it all works. This is exactly the point. This is why it
becomes a powerful, easily repeatable, and readily accessible picture
of what Jesus has done, and is doing, in those who call him “King.”
Pass
the Bread
In
many cultures, breaking bread together is a very intimate communal
activity. When we celebrate the Lord’s Supper, we preach the Gospel
to our brothers and sisters, to ourselves, and to not-yet-believers
who are looking on. As the Apostle Paul says, we “proclaim the
Lord's death until he comes” (1 Corinthians 11:26). In this way,
it’s both a declaration and an invitation—a family meal with much
room still at the table.
It's
not uncommon for the person officiating the celebration of the Lord's
Supper, after they've explained its significance, to instruct
not-yet-believers in attendance to let the elements pass them by.
These uninitiated folks are usually told to come find someone after
if they want to hear more about the Gospel. I think this common
church practice misses the purpose of what's actually happening in
the ritual. The Gospel is being proclaimed. That's the point
of it all. If someone in attendance suddenly believes the Gospel
message that we're collectively celebrating and declaring, even if
they didn't believe only seconds before, they should be invited to
respond by partaking (if you're from a tradition that would require
baptism first, very well. I'd agree that baptism is the prescribed
first response to the Gospel and the other ritual commanded by
Christ. But make baptism readily available, and resume the family
meal only after it's done). You don't present a Meal, describe how
incredible it is, and then quickly whip the plate away from your
dinner guest.
Our
reluctance to let just anyone participate in the Lord's Supper
is I think rooted in Paul's stern warning to those who would partake
in an “unworthy manner” (1 Corinthians 11:27). If you look at the
context, though, Paul was addressing a church that was making a
mockery of the sacred ritual with their hypocrisy (he wasn't
forbidding the newcomer who has yet to procure their PhD in
soteriology). On the one hand the church at Corinth was declaring
their faith in Jesus' Gospel by participating in the meal, but on the
other hand they were completely contradicting the implications of the
Gospel by excluding people who were running late to the gathering or
weren't able to afford the fixings and so on. Basically, they turned
what was meant as a unifying family meal into a free-for-all
exhibition of human selfishness and divisive prejudice. As Jesus
pointed out with his story about the unforgiving servant, we can't
receive forgiveness from God and then withhold forgiveness from
others. That's not how his Gospel works. Freely extending forgiveness
is just one example of how a truly transformed person will naturally
live in Gospel truth. Anytime we partake of the Lord's Supper while
actively denying through our rebellion the Gospel that the meal
illustrates, we're “guilty of sinning against the body and blood of
the Lord” (1 Corinthians 11:27). We're essentially making a
statement that we don't in practice believe. We're taking his name in
vain and trampling on his spilt blood. So we ought to “examine”
ourselves before we eat and drink of the meal (1 Corinthians 11:28).
Anyone who finds that they don't actually believe the Gospel
(regardless of whether or not they say they do) should refrain from
participating in the Lord's Supper. If we find that we do believe but
are currently out of step with Jesus' Gospel then we must first
acknowledge our inconsistencies and realign ourselves with our King.
And whether we're responding to the Gospel declaration for the first
time or for the ten-thousandth time, those who have been born of God
will respond with repentance and then partake with gratitude.
Fortunately
for us once-rebels, Jesus offers himself to all. His words of life
are for anyone “with ears to hear,” and he invites everyone who
is “hungry” and “thirsty” to be satisfied in him. He's given
us a simple yet profound demonstration of his good news, something we
can be reminded of often (since we typically eat at least three meals
a day) and something we can in turn share with those who will be
hearing it for the first time as we welcome them to our table. Jesus
truly is the Bread of Life. Eat up!
“I
am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats this
bread will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give
for the life of the world.” —John 6:51
"even if they know nothing of how it works" Or where it comes from? I could run a long way on that assumption ...
ReplyDeleteJesus emphasizes the "where" it comes from (or better said, the "who" it comes from). It seems imperative to the Jesus of the gospels that his hearers understand that he is sent from God, that he is specifically the promised Messiah of Israel's God. John's gospel emphasizes this point from the beginning and throughout (John 1:1-18, 3:18, 6:29,32-33, 8:23-27, 42).
DeleteSome have proposed that there could be "anonymous Christians." C.S. Lewis, a hero of mine, even seemed to subscribe to this idea (as seen in "The Last Battle"), but I have to part ways with him on this point. The idea is that God could save individuals through the work of his Son, Jesus, without them ever knowing or accepting the person and work of Jesus. Examples would be of a moral Muslim or Buddhist who despite their rejection of Jesus as Messiah, as Savior and King, seem to be exhibiting the effects of someone born again or born of God. That is their nature is changed, or they seem to have God's law "written on their hearts." All the while they would still consider themselves a Buddhist, Muslim, etc. Well I would never attempt to tell God how he can or cannot save someone, I simply don't see this theory expressed in Scripture. And I would say this theory undermines the story that is explicitly being told about Jesus in the Bible, that he is the only way, the only Life.