Mystery of the Meal - Redeemer Episcopal Church

 John 6:35, 41-51

35 Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.

41 Then the Jews began to complain about him because he said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” 42 They were saying, “Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?” 43 Jesus answered them, “Do not complain among yourselves. 44 No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me; and I will raise that person up on the last day. 45 It is written in the prophets, ‘And they shall all be taught by God.’ Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me. 46 Not that anyone has seen the Father except the one who is from God; he has seen the Father. 47 Very truly, I tell you, whoever believes has eternal life. 48 I am the bread of life. 49 Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. 50 This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. 51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”

God of everlasting life, help us to embrace the mystery of the meal you have set before us, and the goodness of your son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

We are on our third Sunday of Jesus talking about bread. And we will be talking about it for another three weeks after this too. If you have heard me preach more than twice, you may have noticed that the meal that we share at this table is my favorite thing in the world. It’s my favorite thing to preach about, talk about at parties, lead faith formation classes on, and it is especially my favorite thing that we share together as a community. I love the Holy Eucharist. So a couple of Sundays talking about bread is right up my alley. 

On campus, I talk about the Eucharist a lot too— But mostly in the context of the meals that we eat together. Every single week, we get together for what we call Food for Thought, which is centered around a shared meal. My students think I’m just really enthusiastic about food because I DO feed them every chance I get. 

At the end of the last semester, I invited all of our students out to a restaurant to celebrate making it through the year. It was the only time we were able to meet in person together the entire year. All my students came and many of them brought friends that I had never met before. I ushered them all up to the line to order their food and told the cashier, “I’ll pay for all of it at the end.” My students who know me, knew this was a totally normal thing for me to do, but the new students were flabbergasted. Why would I pay for their meal? Well, that’s just how we do things here. 

My students really do just think I’m a food enthusiast. And I do like eating, obviously. And, of course, this is the reality of ministry with young adults— we are always hungry. And much of the time, students are wondering where they are going to get their next meal. But I think it also tells us something theologically, that our ministry is based around a shared meal— our bodies matter. Being fed is important. Sharing a meal together is holy. And hospitality is sacred.  

In these stories of Jesus talking to the crowds about bread, moves further and further away from the physical bread with which he fed the crowds and becomes more and more theological, and more and more scandalous in what he is telling them.  

But I think it’s important to remember that Jesus DID start with the people’s physical hunger. He didn’t ignore their bodies and tell them that they were encountering the bread of heaven. No, he attended to their physical hunger and fed them with an abundance— so much so that there was more than enough left over. He had to satisfy their physical hunger, so that they might be able to tune in to the hunger in their hearts. They began to understand that they were not hungry for bread and fish any longer, but for Jesus’ teaching, so he began teaching them about who he is and what his life would mean for them and for the entire world. 

This morning, Jesus’ teaching takes a turn when he makes some heavenly claims— “I am the bread of life that came from heaven.” And the crowd seems to have a real issue with this. 

“You’re Joseph and Mary’s son! You’re from this town— we know where you came from and it wasn’t heaven!” 

They felt like they knew Jesus, or at the very least, they knew his parents. And because they were so familiar with him and his story, it made it hard for them to believe that he was extraordinary. Of course he couldn’t have come from God— we know he grew up with normal parents in our normal town. 

Now when the crowd begins to grumble, Jesus has the ability to do what most of us would do in this situation. He could backtrack and make his claims a little less offensive. Claim that he misspoke and that he didn’t mean that he’s ACTUALLY from heaven. He could try to make his claims a little more palatable for the crowd so that they might be able to understand it better. 

But instead he makes his claims even more scandalous, even more offensive. He doubles down and says that not only is he the bread from heaven, but that people will eat of this bread, they will come to him, and they will have eternal life. 

Their physical hunger was satisfied, but their longing for Christ had only just begun.

Jesus’ words here bring to question what it means for the crowd to follow him. Jesus wants to make it clear that walking with him is no peaceful stroll. In fact, he says, it will cost him his life. 

But it is impossible for the crowd to even understand Jesus’ origins. So how will they understand his journey and his destination at the cross? It doesn’t make any sense that Jesus will have to die in order to provide life for the world. They only understand him as ordinary Jesus, the son of Mary and Joseph. They don’t know him as who he who truly was, and is, and is to come. 

“The bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” Those words simply don’t make sense to the crowd. I’m not sure they make much sense to us. Of course, we do have the advantage of knowing the rest of the story— and about two thousand years of people talking about the rest of the story. But perhaps that is the reason we keep telling this story, the reason it has endured for 2000 years, why we keep coming back to church each week to hear it again— because we don’t totally understand it but something in it captures us. 

I think, perhaps, this is why Holy Eucharist is so compelling to me. Because God takes something that is so familiar to us— bread and wine— and it is the body and blood of our Lord… and this simple meal is the beginning of eternal life for us. It is the foretaste of what is to come for us as we continue walking this path with Jesus. We come to this table every week with the expectation that God will be present here, and yet we are surprised and confused every time. What God does at this meal doesn’t make any sense at all. And yet… it is. 

Jesus’ claims that he is the bread from heaven… his claim that the bread he will give for the life of the world is his flesh… they don’t make sense. And yet the people will continue to follow him, continue to long for his teaching. They will follow him all the way until his death on a cross. And then they still won’t understand. But they will continue to chase after this mystery, as we do now. Only to be satisfying by what first kept them wanting more. The ordinary bread that is not just ordinary bread. The wine that is not just ordinary wine. The bread from heaven, here at this table, in this holy community. Amen. 

Strive for justice and peace in all the earth

"To strive for justice and peace in all the earth is a kind of crescendo at the end of our baptismal commitments. To paraphrase the Gospel according to John, when 'people love darkness more than the light' (3:19), we don’t respond with condemnation but instead by shining Christ’s light to expose the weakness of the shadows." 

This is how Rev. Drew Tucker, the University Pastor at Capital University describes the final baptismal promise. 

Finding time to care about-- let along do anything about-- justice and peace while we are in college can feel incredibly overwhelming. I have heard a lot of critiques of my generation (millennials) and the generations after mine. Whether we are snowflakes, self-absorbed, social media crazed, obsessed with avocado toast, or killing various restaurant chains and industries, there seem to be many reasons to complain about college students these days. Many older people assert that things should just go back to the "good old days" before complications like smart phones and empathy. 

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't critical of my own and younger generations at times, but I find so much hope in young adults today as well. It is probably the reason I have a passion for young adult and campus ministry. Not a day goes by that the deep convictions and empathy of people younger than myself teach me to be more like Jesus. 

Indeed, campus ministry is often where the journey in pursuit of justice and peace begin for many people. Josh Hayes, a previous student at Jacob's Porch puts it this way: 

"Campus ministry was where I first heard the term social justice. Nearly everyone I know from JP (Jacob's Porch) is still extremely active in the realm of justice and the pursuit of peace. Though it can be difficult to work toward justice, the knowledge of what it means to those who have been treated unjustly is the most compelling call to action."

Pastor Tucker confirms this idea that sometimes campus ministry is where the roots of justice and peace take hold of God's children and refuse to be pulled up.  

"In my various experience in Lutheran campus ministry, I’ve seen students take the lead on including people who identify as LGBTQ+ fully in the life of the church. I’ve seen campus communities open their empty housing to refugee families in need. I’ve seen white, straight, cisgendered, male students use their privilege to center the voices of people of color, women, immigrants, and others typically marginalized in our society. Most recently, I’ve been invited to celebrate the transition of a student in worship with an affirmation of baptism that honors God's grace offered long before the transition and is now experienced anew in the fullness of his life. For me, campus ministry is where the light of God’s call for justice and peace pierces the shadowy veils of judgment with God’s expansive, inclusive love."

As busy as college students often are, I and others have witnessed over and over again the drive and passion that students have for seeking justice and peace in the places and times they live in today. I have never heard a student say, "I know there is a lot of suffering in the world, but I can't do anything about it now. Let me wait until I graduate." Rather, I more often hear students say things like, "I know there is suffering and injustice in the world, and right here on this campus. How can I be a part of the change right now?"

Although campus ministry doesn't always get it right and we have a long way to go to look like the Kin-dom of God, I love being able to reply, "by joining in what we are doing at campus ministry, you can help us change not only this community but this campus and the world."  

Hear the word of God and share in the Lord’s supper

I don't remember the first time I visited Jacob's Porch, the Lutheran campus ministry at Ohio State, but my first memory of the service was the Lord's supper. I had grown up in church my entire life and I knew of about three different ways you can partake in communion: dip, sip, or tiny cups. We always went up to the altar, and the pastor always gave us the bread. I figured every single congregation in the whole world did communion like this.

So imagine my surprise when we were asked to stand in a circle for communion that Sunday evening. The pastor handed the bread to the person next to him, "body of Christ, given for you," and she dipped the bread into the wine in the pastor's other hand, "blood of Christ, shed for you." Then the student took the bread and repeated the process to the next person in the circle. Around we went in this organically played out dance together until the final person serviced the pastor.

It changed everything for me.

I remember going back to my seat on the couch and crying through the next two songs. Suddenly, communion wasn't something performed in front of the congregation or something done "for" the lay people by the pastor. It was an act of God in the community, literally being in communion with one another. I still have never experienced anything that could so fully reveal a new eucharistic theology so profoundly. And we simply served each other Christ in a circle.

Somehow, without even meaning to (or maybe fully meaning to), campus ministry brought me into more full communion with God and with my siblings. 

Vicar Ellen Clough, campus ministry leader at Furman University, tells about how campus ministry brings students into more full communion with God in other surprising ways:

"When I was in college, I very rarely wanted to wake up for worship on Sunday mornings. I was a religion major, and one of my professors would jokingly call out those of us who didn’t make it to worship on Sunday mornings by asking us on Monday if we’d worshipped “St. Mattress” the day before. I’d feel guilty for a few hours before promptly forgetting about it until the next Sunday when I’d choose to eat a late brunch in the cafeteria with my friends, sharing laughs and stories from our eventful Saturday nights. 

For this reason, when I started working with college students as their campus minister, I half-heartedly invited them to join us for worship as I’d been told to do, and didn’t expect any of them to show up. I absolutely believe that it is good for the people of God to gather together for worship and to share in the Lord’s supper, I just knew that while I was in college, I didn’t make this a priority at all.  

But my students surprised me. One girl told me she was attending the Catholic mass held on campus because she knew she needed communion every week and was taking it without telling the Priest she wasn’t actually catholic. Others didn’t have cars but asked if I would be willing to coordinate a carpool to worship. Now, halfway into the year, about half of the students who are regularly participating in our weekly gatherings are also attending worship. It’s beautiful, it’s humbling, and their desire to come to worship so diligently is truly a sign that the Kingdom of God really is present when we gather together around even the simplest of things, word, wine, wheat, and water."

I believe that campus ministry has the opportunity to not only be a place for students to hear the word of God and share in the Lord's supper, but do these things in new, exciting, personal, and transformative ways. One of the incredible blessings (and sometimes hardships) of campus ministry is that we are often freed from worship committees and congregational traditions. I've very rarely (if ever) heard anyone within campus ministry say, "because that's the way we've always done it." Campus ministry can be transforming and renewing with every year and every new student.

In an age where we must continue to adapt to the changing and constantly-moving lives of young adults, campus ministry has a unique opportunity to be an anchoring point, a sanctuary of the old old story and the deeply nourishing meal. In this way, campus ministry is more than a club or gathering place, but a true and sacred worshiping community meant to bring students into a more full communion with God and with one another through the word and meal.

Hospitality and Holy Communion

Please note: this paper was written for a specific context, within an academic class. The views of the article may or may not reflect my own arguments or the theology of the ELCA. This is simply one argument in the midst of many. Please feel free to let me know what your own opinions are! 

In an effort to be a more hospitable and missional Church, communion invitations (verbal and written) within the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America should be changed from “all baptized people” to “all people.”  There are two ways this thesis will be approached: theologically and practically.  Although tradition has dictated that communicants be baptized, there is little theological and biblical evidence for the restriction.  Practically, opening the table to unbaptized members publicly can serve as an evangelical tool as well as create greater ease within the parish.  Although communion before baptism should not be the regular practice, changing the invitation would be more inclusive in terms of mission and hospitality.  

Here it should be reiterated that the main point of this essay is not to normalize the practice of unbaptized people receiving communion.  It simply argues that a more welcoming invitation will provide opportunities for hospitality and mission while not disregarding the sacristy of Holy Communion.  Tradition states that people should be baptized before receiving Holy Communion.  Lutherans understand that welcoming people into the Body of Christ involves welcoming them into the baptismal waters as well as the Lord’s Table.  The pastor should follow up with a communicant in the week following the service (as they are likely to be visitors, not long-time members) and ask if they are baptized or interested in being baptized.  If the pastor discovers that they are not baptized, they should be encouraged to come to educational opportunities in the church about both baptism and communion.  In this way, an open invitation to communion is actually a form of evangelism. 

The church recognizes that it is possible and, in some cases, common for people to take communion without being baptized.  The main defense for baptism being the prerequisite for communion is that baptism is the initial profession of faith (which occurs once) and communion is the ongoing, continual, and repeated renewal of faith.  In fact, the Use and Means of Grace states that “admission to the sacrament is by invitation of the Lord, presented through the Church to those who are baptized,” without further explanation as to why it is only presented to the baptized.  The section goes on to explain that 

when an unbaptized person comes to the table seeking Christ’s presence and is inadvertently communed, neither that person nor the ministers of Communion need be ashamed. Rather, Christ’s gift of love and mercy to all is praised. That person is invited to learn the faith of the Church, be baptized, and thereafter faithfully receive Holy Communion. 

Therefore, we understand that it is by no means a sin nor will someone be damned by taking or administering communion before being baptized. 

According to Use and Means of Grace, the only other recommendation for communion is that a person properly prepare to receive the body and blood of Christ.  This preparation comes in the form of individual or corporate confession and forgiveness.  This practice comes from Paul’s request to the Corinthians to “examine yourselves, and only then eat of the bread and drink of the cup.”  In general practice, anyone receiving communion will have been a part of the confession and forgiveness at the beginning of the service.  Therefore, unbaptized persons should not be withheld from receiving communion because they have actively participated in the recommendation to properly prepare to receive the body and blood of Christ. 

Theologically speaking, the Church is not who invites people to the communion table.  It is “by invitation of the Lord” that any of us are able to receive Holy Communion.  It is only through God’s incredible saving mercy and grace that we are welcomed to share this meal with Christ.  God desires everyone to be a part of the Body of Christ, so if participation in the eucharist leads to baptism, then it cannot be working against God’s will.  

The Large Catechism, from which we glean much of our tradition, states that it is not our worthiness or unworthiness that makes the bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ Jesus.  Luther goes on to state that 

Christ does not say “if you believe or if you are worthy, you have my body and blood,” but rather, “Take, eat and drink, this is my body and blood.”  Likewise, when he says “Do this” (namely, what I do now do, what I institute, what I give you and bid you take), this is as much as to say, “No matter whether you are worthy or unworthy, you have here his body and blood by the power of these words that are connected to the bread and wine.”

Luther points out that Christ says, “This is my body and blood, given for you” (his emphasis).  This means that no matter the person, Christ is addressing all people who hear these words and believe them to be true.  Luther claims that “the treasure is opened and placed at everyone’s door.”  In this way, we simply cannot limit Holy Communion to baptized people.   

We see from the Large Catechism that despite what practices are carried out voluntarily or involuntarily, we hold that “this blessed sacrament remain unimpaired and inviolate even if we use and handle it unworthily.”  We can go forward into new frontiers assured that the sacristy of Holy Communion is not affected by our own actions or differing practices.  

To move to more practical reasons why the verbal and written invitation to the Lord’s table should be inclusive, we will reposition ourselves into a missional mindset.  Practically speaking, in any given congregation, there is no way of telling who is and is not baptized when they approach the table.  We will not stop people from coming forward if they hunger and thirst for Christ.  In fact, Luther says that it is their privilege to come forward if and when they thirst. A friend served communion at their wedding and invited everyone to come forward.  A couple near the front of the church were atheist and Jewish, but were invited to the table as well.  That is a sign of the Holy Spirit working in wonderful, graceful ways through the Lord’s meal.  As many invitations now stand (stating that all baptized people are invited to the table), they could cause visitors, de-churched people, and unchurched people to feel ostracized during the sharing of the meal.  It can close off people from hearing the gospel when they realize that they are not invited to this wonderful meal.  We are representatives of Christ, and to many people, not being welcomed by the church translates to not being welcomed by Christ.  Paul argues that we should be mindful not to “cause our neighbors to stumble” (Romans 14:13-23; 1 Corinthians 8:13).  If an exclusive invitation to the Lord’s table causes people to stumble in their faith or growing faith, then it should be changed for the sake of the Gospel.  

There are two main reasons a person may be opposed to a more open invitation to communion.  The first is that the pastor must follow up with visitors on a regular, intentional basis and ask about things such as baptism.  To this, it should be said that visits are a part of the pastor’s vocation.  The pastor should be constantly reaching out to visitors and having faithful conversations with them regarding their beliefs and religious backgrounds.  

The second piece of opposition may be more serious.  People could argue that allowing anyone to come for communion will devalue or misconstrue the sanctity of the meal.  As previously stated, we do not cause or detract from the sacristy of the Lord’s meal.  It is God’s graciousness and mercy that makes the meal an expression of, not a prerequisite for, God’s grace.  Where people might get the wrong idea about what the eucharist means, we will emphasize that education must follow and continue throughout the lives of all congregants.  Preparation of the heart and mind is necessary for the true reception of Holy Communion.

We see from these arguments that there is no biblically or theologically grounded opposition that should keep churches from changing their invitation language to be more inclusive.  In fact, keeping in mind the theological implications and emphasis on hospitality, churches should be encouraged to change their verbal and written invitation to communion to an inclusive statement about “all people” being invited to the Lord’s table.  This change should occur with prayerful consideration of the context as well as an understanding that communing non baptized people should not be a regular practice, but a gateway to starting a conversation with visitors about baptism and communion.  Education outside of Sunday morning worship is especially necessary as we open the table to all people.  

Sources: 

Use and Means of Grace: A Statement on the Practice of Word and Sacrament, Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, (Augsburg Fortress: Minneapolis, MN, 1997).

Kolb, Robert, Timothy J. Wenger, and Charles P. Arand. The Book of Concord: the Confessions of the Evangelical Lutheran Church: Large Catechism. (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress Publishers, 2000), V.