"No More Barriers"

      For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, "This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me." In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me." For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes.

      Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be answerable for the body and blood of the Lord. Examine yourselves, and only then eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For all who eat and drink without discerning the body, eat and drink judgment against themselves.

      So then, my brothers and sisters, when you come together to eat, wait for one another. If you are hungry, eat at home, so that when you come together, it will not be for your condemnation. About the other things I will give instructions when I come.

      Second Presbyterian Church had been through some rough times. It wasn't catastrophic, but it was tough. Membership had declined, young families were leaving, a core group of long-time committee members still wary of the 'new' ministers and their mission outreach emphasis. ('New' meaning a combined tenure of ten years.) There had been a lot of parking lot chatter; a lot of murmuring behind closed doors. Then a confrontation of the leadership of the church---not just the ministers, but also the Session.

      "Things have changed too fast. We want things back the way they used to be."

      Dialogue began, or at least each side spoke. It was civil, but still tense. The invisible walls were up; you could almost touch them. Walls around the pastors as they carefully tiptoed among those most unhappy. Fences between church members. It seemed as though there were two camps: people who were anxious and unhappy, and those who were incredulous. They couldn't understand what all the fuss was about. And the fences and walls crept higher, slowly and imperceptibly, like ivy thriving during a long, wet summer.

      It was now nearly stewardship time. A time to reflect on one's gifts and consider how one gives back to God through the church. This, too, had been a source of considerable anxiety. Financial giving was declining. Even though the church still had ample resources, the numbers were shrinking. When Joseph Small, one of the church's long time members, got up to speak about giving during worship, it was anyone's guess what he might say.

      Joe began by talking about the way things used to be. He told a couple of funny stories about a couple of well-loved pastors from the past. The current pastors sat in the chancel, inwardly squirming, wondering if anyone would ever tell a funny story about them after they were long gone. It all seemed like a predictable, nostalgic walk down memory lane. Until.

      Until this slightly stooped, balding man began to speak of the Lord's Supper. What he said was so astonishing, it left the small congregation with tears in their eyes. He began by saying, in a quavery voice, how things used to be. Communion four times a year and on Christmas and Maundy Thursday. The way things ought to be, in the opinion of many.

      The pastors moved from squirming to sweating. Because when the senior pastor came to Second Presbyterian six years ago, he and the Session instituted the practice of weekly communion by intinction at one service. This had not been well received. It was not fitting. And, in so many words, Joe Small said so. He said he didn't like it. He admitted routinely leaving that service after the second hymn.

      Today we continue our series on the sacraments with the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. 1 Corinthians 11 is our earliest written reference to the sacramental meal Christians have come to call Communion, the Eucharist, the Mass, or the Lord's Supper (which is what Paul called it). The Lord's Supper is only mentioned a total of seven times in the New Testament, once each in the gospels and three times elsewhere. And yet it is a core practice of Christians.

      Most of what we practice and believe about the Lord's Supper does not come directly from the Bible, it comes from the church. As you might guess, different denominations have different views and practices. Sadly, the practice of the Lord's Supper still deeply divides Christians.

      Someone once said if the early church had not had so many significant problems, we would not have a big portion of the New Testament! Such is the case here with the problems Paul addresses with the Corinthians about the Lord's Supper.

      The problems in Corinth were not theological, they were social. Economic conflicts in the First Church of Corinth contributed to disunity. The Corinthians modeled their Lord's Supper on Roman gatherings in which the participants were "wined and dined" according to their social status. Poorer members came to worship early, and began eating early, because they were hungry. This was not fitting! The body of Christ was a divided body, and the whole point of the church coming together to celebrate this sacramental meal faded.

      Paul tells First Church of Corinth they should examine themselves before deciding to participate in the Lord's Supper. They should be ready. Reading between Paul's lines, they should forgive one another and put their arguments behind them. They should be generous with each other, in all ways. They should take care of all who are hungry or in need.

      We often forget the idea that we should prepare ourselves before we receive communion. We run the risk of forgetting who we are and forgetting the deep meaning of even our most sacred acts. We should approach the Lord's table with awe, and even with some fear. This is where other denominations may have a leg up on Presbyterians. The idea of examining our conscience before coming to the Table is one we might well consider. When we pray our corporate prayer of Confession, especially on communion Sundays, we should consider who we need to forgive and who we need to ask forgiveness of, before coming to the table.

      The Lord's Supper is a sacrament because it points to a larger mystery, the mystery of the body of Christ present not only at one time long ago but continuing today in our communities of faith.

      Like Baptism, the Lord's Supper is multivalent. As Baptism is the sacrament of entrance into the faith, the Lord's Supper is the sacrament of sustenance in the life of faith. Next week I will speak more of the theology of the Lord's Supper, as today we focus on the idea of unity and forgiveness that Paul addresses in this scripture.

      Consider what creates division in our hearts and the heart of Lake Highlands Pres. What creates division in the Presbyterian denomination? What divides the church universal? We are encouraged to name and acknowledge our divisions through the vulnerability of prayer and confession, so transformation can occur. Because at the common table, transformation does occur.

      Do you wonder what it was Joe Small said to that divided, unhappy congregation at Second Presbyterian? What he said was so astonishing, so brave, so full of grace, it left both the pastors and the small congregation with tears in their eyes.

      "I just couldn't accept the idea of weekly communion, he said, until something shifted. Something changed when I realized this was not the pastors' table, this was not the church's table, this was not even a Presbyterian table. It is the Lord's table. I was able to let go of my anger at my pastor. I began to see the bigger picture, and it wasn't about my personal opinions or the way things had always been done before at Second Pres. I sensed the presence of Jesus Christ at this table, and I knew I should come. And I began to receive communion every week, and I am better for it. "

      The bread of life breaks down barriers. The bread of life calls us to overlook our own desires, our particular preferences, our petty and even our big differences. The bread of life transcends our theological interpretations and political posturing. The bread of life unifies.

      Communion is powerful and graceful beyond our comprehension. It feeds and heals us. It can even break down barriers and beliefs we have sometimes held more dear than we have held Christ.

      That particular Sunday, when Joseph Small had spoken, the bread of life was so full of life it had fly in it. I know, because I was at the table.