34. How to Break Bread

JEANNIE: Welcome to Exploring the Word.

LONNIE: Glad you could join us as we attempt to dig deeper into the riches of the Bible. Today we’re going study a topic that has caused quite a bit of controversy down through history.

JEANNIE: It’s the Lord’s Supper, the Eucharist, the way believers receive the emblems of the body and blood of Christ. Amazingly enough, wars have been fought over differences of opinion about how this is supposed to happen.

LONNIE: And there’s still a lot of debate over what taking the cup, eating the bread, really mean, or really accomplish.

When believers in the early church came together to "break bread," they enjoyed a regular meal, called the "Agape" feast. "Agape," the Greek word for love, was the first name given to the communion service. It was a part of their strong sense of fellowship. The Agape feast was accompanied by Bible reading, preaching and prayer. It culminated in the formal acts of the Lord's Supper.

This came to be called the "eucharist." Now "eucharist" is a Greek word meaning "thanksgiving." When the early believers took the bread and wine as the Lord's body and blood, they were, above all, giving thanks for Christ's sacrifice.

Justin, the First Century church father, gives us an interesting glimpse of an early communion service. The one distributing the bread and wine, he tells us,

"offers up praise and glory to the Father of the universe . . . and gives thanks at considerable length for our being counted worthy to receive these things at his hands. When he has concluded the prayers and thanksgivings, all the people present express their joyful assent by saying Amen." (Justin, Apology I, 65-66)

The Agape feast and the eucharist. Love and thanksgiving. These qualities distinguished the earliest communion services. The Lord's Supper originally was a simple means of fellowship and of remembering.

But slowly things changed. The Agape feast faded out. A more formal celebration of the eucharist was fazed in. Church officials introduced magical ideas about what the bread and wine could do. They began to believe the sacraments could bring people grace in and of themselves.

Theologians began to analyze Jesus' words, "my body, my blood." Scholars defined and made subtle categories. They threw around phrases like "real presence, underlying substance, and transubstantiation."
By the late middle ages communion had become an extravagant ritual. The bread and wine were venerated as a sacrifice made to God. Lay people were forbidden to drink from the cup, for fear that some of the sacred wine might spill.

Shortly before the Protestant Reformation broke out in Europe, some folks in Northern Italy, in the valleys of the Waldenses, began to ask questions. One of them was a twenty-six-year-old named Nicolas Sartoire. On Good Friday he heard a preacher talk about the sacrifice of Jesus and how it saves us. He affirmed, “The sacrifice is renewed daily in the sacrifice of the mass.”

Nicolas thought, “But Christ died only once. He’s in heaven now. He won’t come again until the last day.” The problem was, Nicolas was thinking aloud. The clergyman overheard him murmuring.

And so he demanded from the pulpit: “You do not then believe in his corporal presence in the host?”

Official Catholic teaching maintained that Christ was supernaturally present in the bread handed out by a consecrated priest.

Nicolas admitted he didn’t believe this.

The clergyman thundered, “Do you know the creed?”

Nicolas replied, “Yes, but what of that? Doesn’t the creed also say that Jesus is now seated at the right hand of the Father?”

The preacher nodded.

“Well then,” Nicolas said, “he is not in the host.”

Well, church officials there didn’t really have an answer to this argument. So they threw the young man in jail.

Friends helped him escape at night and he almost made it to Switzerland. But he was caught, brought back to prison, and endured the rack. Officials at the time thought torture would help him see the light and retract his errors.

But Nicolas stood firm. When they told him, “The church condemns you,” he replied, “The Bible acquits me.” When they said, “You incur the punishment of death by your obstinacy,” he answered, “He who perseveres to the end shall be saved.”

Nicolas was burned to death May 4, 1557.

The leaders of the Protestant Reformation who broke away from the Roman Catholic Church in the sixteenth century wanted to simplify the sacraments, but even they got lost in all the categories. Luther thought Christ's glorified flesh was somehow in the bread. He subscribed to a "real presence."

Calvin saw only the "spirit's presence." Zwingli stated that the bread and wine were only symbols. Melancthon objected, "No, there's more to it."

For hundred of years these differences led to bitter controversies. And tragically the controversies heated into bloodshed.

Jan Hus protested against the more superstitious practices of the medieval church. He believed that lay people, not just priests, should be able to drink from the cup of communion. He was burned at the stake.

Wycliff opposed the Roman Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation. He could not see communion as another sacrifice. After Wycliff's death, a church council condemned him for heresy and had his body dug up and moved from holy ground.

John Knox condemned the Church's observance of Eucharist as idolatry. In his more passionate moments Knox called for "the blood of abominable idolaters" to "pacify God's wrath."

Differences over Holy Communion would flare up in many other places. People took sides. Churches were divided. Armies gathered. Europe lurched toward war. Basically because people thought they had to enforce the right way to "break bread together."

That’s the great irony. The Lord's Supper, the fellowship meal, became a divisive issue. It had come a long, long way down from its origins.

So what are we to make of the Lord’s Supper today? What can it mean for us in the twenty-first century – with so much bloodshed trailing behind it? Has it outlived its usefulness?

Is Holy Communion a big deal? Does it really matter today? It’s my conviction that, through all the debate and all the controversy about the Eucharist, we've missed the most important point. All our theological definitions and subtle categories passed right over the essence of the communion service.

In Paul's day, the church at Corinth was raising some questions about the Lord’s Supper. Listen to what the apostle told them:

“Is not the cup of thanksgiving for which we give thanks a participation in the blood of Christ? And is not the bread that we break a participation in the body of Christ? Because there is one loaf, we, who are many, are one body, for we all partake of the one loaf.” 1 Corinthians 10:16, 17

Those who partake of communion become a part of Christ and become one body of believers. Listen friends, we’re not asked to analyze and categorize. We are called to accept with thanksgiving Christ's sacrifice for us. That puts us on the same footing with every other believer.

The Lord’s Supper was designed to create one BODY, to make us look at each other as brothers and sisters in the faith.

How tragic that down through history we've missed the point. We've missed the point badly. We've put the bread and wine under a microscope. We've debated about substance and essence and presence until communion is reduced to chemistry.

That's not what our Lord's Supper is all about. It's about coming together humbly and accepting by faith the wonderful mystery of Christ's atonement on our behalf.

Unfortunately some have used the communion service as a way to exclude rather than unite. The apostle Paul's instruction to the Corinthian church regarding the Lord's Supper is often taken out of context. Paul warned that:

“Anyone who eats and drinks without recognizing the body of the Lord eats and drinks judgment on himself.” 1 Corinthians 11:29

Some interpret this as a reference to a particular way of defining the sacrament. They believe they cannot share communion with anyone who does not regard the bread and wine in precisely the same way they do. And again, lines are drawn, and certain believers excluded.

But guess what – it’s evident from this chapter as a whole that Paul had something quite different in mind. The Corinthians had turned the Agape feast into an occasion for gluttony. Believers were actually getting drunk at the communion table! It was this irreverent, carnal spirit that Paul was warning against. He was saying, in effect, "Don't come to stuff your mouths, come to recognize your Lord."

You may have heard of the fateful walk two of Jesus’ disciples had on the way to Emmaus. Their Lord had been crucified. They were without hope. A stranger approached. This man began to talk of certain Messianic prophecies in the Old Testament. The two disciples were fascinated. Now this was our homework assignment from last week. Did you think about how this event relates to the Last Supper?

The disciples asked the stranger to eat supper with them. And then it happened. Look at Luke 24:31. As soon as the man gave thanks and broke the bread:

“Their eyes were opened and they recognized him..” Luke 24:31

It was Jesus. Their Lord. Alive from the dead. A few verses later Luke emphasizes that:

“Jesus was recognized by them when he broke the bread.” Luke 24:35

They recognized the Lord who had given them a Last Supper days before. Isn't that the whole point of the communion service?

Recognizing Jesus. Seeing Him – and the wonder of His sacrifice on our behalf. That’s what it’s about. Communion helps us see JESUS.

You know, the Bible doesn't give any detailed instructions on the exact nature of the bread and wine of communion. Where scholars and theologians have poured out volumes, Scripture is rather silent. But we do have one bit of clear instruction regarding the service. And that is from the Lord Himself. Paul quotes Jesus at the Last Supper as saying:

“Do this in remembrance of me.” I Corinthians 11:24

In remembrance of Me. We are to remember Jesus. We are not asked to concentrate on the emblems of communion. We are not urged to debate over ceremony. We are not required to fathom the precise mechanics of the sacrament. No. We are required to do one thing. And that is, remember Jesus. We honor His SACRIFICE, what He did for us.

That has been so incredibly hard to do over the years. We've missed the point so badly. All the dust and smoke of religious conflict has obscured the Christ of our communion.

A family was having a yard sale one weekend. It was the usual. An exercise bicycle everyone had given up on. Dining room furniture that no longer fit. But there were some other smaller items they decided to give away. Some real treasures, but it was just too much trouble to sell them individually. So they arranged them in a big cardboard box and stuck a sign on it, “Free Box.”

Well wouldn’t you know it, someone came by when they weren’t looking, dumped the contents on their yard, and drove away with the cardboard box.

For centuries Christians have been driving away with the box, fighting over the box, using the box to control others – doing everything except valuing what’s inside the box: Jesus Christ, His grace and forgiveness.

Do this in remembrance of Me.

JEANNIE: Lonnie, I think what you shared today about receiving the Lord’s Supper with thankfulness, about really focusing on Jesus, instead of the details of the ritual, boils down to one thing: simplicity. Keep it simple.

LONNIE: You’re right, Jeannie. We make things so complicated, and then we fight over the complications.

JEANNIE: Love is simple. Devotion is simple. Ritual is complicated.

You know, there’s something that we’ve practiced over the years that I’d love for you to share with our viewers. It’s something called, the Ordinance of Humility. I know it’s been so meaningful for us, as part of the communion service.

LONNIE: It has Jeannie, and I think it helps answer the whole question: What does the Eucharist mean?

At the very beginning, Jesus showed us precisely how to avoid all the conflict that has plagued religious people through the years. It’s actually part of the Last Supper. It’s something we have overlooked. And I believe it can help us make the Eucharist meaningful again.

A young man named Eddie Fischer will help explain what I mean. In the spring of l977 he had embarked on a long journey. He had decided to travel from a small village in Guatemala to his home in Pennsylvania – 4,000 miles – on foot. It was a walk for water. Eddie was raising money to build a desperately needed well for the village of Rabinal. He had worked there as part of a volunteer relief team.

Eddie wanted to attract attention to the needs of Rabinal with his long walk. On the way he spoke to many church and civic groups. TV news crews always met him at the major cities. He appeared on several talk shows. Eddie met many wonderful people during his journey. But one woman stood out in his mind.

He met her at the end of one long 40-mile day amid endless Illinois cornfields. She and her husband had volunteered their hospitality for the night. Their old farmhouse was large, with a lived-in, homey look. They were a very dignified, middle-aged couple. After supper, Eddie settled into a comfortable chair in the living room with some iced tea.

Soon the wife came in carrying a small basin of water. A towel was draped over her arm. She asked, “May I wash your feet?”

Eddie almost choked on his ice. Embarrassed, he mumbled something about taking a shower later.

But the woman smiled and assured him that they often practiced foot-washing for guests. It was something Jesus had done for His disciples. She insisted that she wanted to wash Eddie's feet as an act of service and love for a fellow Christian.

Eddie reluctantly agreed. He started to take off his boots, but the woman quickly knelt at his feet and loosened the laces. She removed the smelly shoes and socks and, smiling cheerfully, began to wash his grimy feet. The woman's gentle hands soothed away Eddie's awkwardness.

Later Eddie recalled, "What happened to me in that home . . . changed my whole attitude about my walk." Before he had seen the Walk for Water as his project, his sacrifice. All the media attention had put him up on a pedestal. But now he felt a part of something bigger, a part of the many believers who give of themselves in service without
recognition.

During a certain Passover Feast, the disciples of Jesus were up on a pedestal. They had learned they were to occupy key positions in the coming Kingdom of God. They knew they were privileged, but they wondered: Who among them would be most privileged? Who would occupy the coveted positions at Jesus’ right and left hand?

The disciples were arguing about this as they gathered in the Upper Room for the Passover meal. Soon everyone noticed that there was no servant present to wash everyone's feet, as was the custom in those days. Who would perform the chore? None of the disciples wanted to get off their pedestal. But as they stared at each other awkwardly, Jesus took off His cloak, wrapped a towel around His waist, poured water into a basin, and began to wash the dust from His disciples' feet.

The twelve watched in shocked silence – and shame. Their Master, the One who came from the Father, was doing the work of a slave. This beautiful expression of Christ's devotion, melted the disciples’ proud hearts. They realized they were part of something bigger, something more important than individual ambition.

Now the twelve were ready to partake of the Last Supper. Now the bread and wine could truly unite them. All stood on the same ground. All in need of washing from the same Master. All redeemed by the same broken body and shed blood.

The service of foot-washing preceded the communion service. How much the disciples needed that! How much we need that today! In all our bickering and posturing we've missed the point so badly. If only we would have washed each other's feet down through the years, instead of fighting over the chemistry of the sacraments.

Please remember that we can only take these emblems of the Kingdom as little children. We can only accept the bread and wine in faith. We can only humbly thank God for the wonder of His sacrifice.

People who have humbled themselves before each other can do that. People ready to wash each other's feet aren't so quick to quarrel or exclude.

Christ meant that His Last Supper should bring us together, becoming one body, through one bread. He meant for us to recognize Him and His love for us in the service. All of us are given the same standing when we partake of the bread and wine – with humbled hearts.

All of us kneeling together as one. An old spiritual pictures it beautifully.

“Let us break bread together on our knees;
When I fall on my knees with my face to the heavenly One,
Oh Lord, have mercy on me!”

Friends, this is the simple beauty we must recover in our observance of communion. Can we celebrate it in the spirit of washing each other's feet? That will make such a difference. Putting all our pedestals aside, putting all our pet theories aside. Let's accept the bread and wine in humble faith with thanksgiving. And above all, with our faces pressed toward the heavenly One. The One who still reminds us, "Do this in remembrance of ME."

Dear Father, we thank You with all our hearts for Your body broken on the cross, and for Your blood shed so freely for us. We will spend eternity exploring the riches of the redemption You made possible. But right now help us to celebrate it humbly, not presumptuously. Help us to truly become one through the one bread we partake of. Humble our pride, heal our quarrels. Fix our eyes on Jesus. Through all our worship may we remember Him only. Amen.

JEANNIE: How about a little homework assignment to help you dig deeper into the riches of the Bible?

LONNIE: Next week we’ll be tackling a pretty big subject: the conflict between good and evil at the end of our age. And we’ll be trying to nail down a dividing line. Just where do the two sides split? What are the issues at stake?

JEANNIE: So we’d like you to look at a short passage in the Gospel of John to get ready. Please read John 14:19-24 before next week. And try to answer this question from the passage: How do God’s law and God’s love work together?

LONNIE: Remember, John 14:19-24 for next week. Until then, God bless you. Never stop Exploring the Word. And remember, God really does love you.