Real Commun(ity)ion

So here’s the deal:

In prepping for a communion service last Sunday afternoon, I found myself googling for creative communion ideas. Seems wierd, does it not?  I mean, did Jesus ever mean for communion to be what it has become.  Is it just another service element to do in a culturally relevant way, making sure that each piece of the puzzle makes a meaningful whole.  Then, just maybe, people will look sombre or pious enough when they eat & drink.

Granted, different traditions have different ways of celebrating the Lord’s supper but i think most of us have lost the plot. I say this reservedly because I do not want to offend but I think we need to re-think some things:

Jesus took bread & broke it & shared the cup with his disciples: nothing out of the ordinary here really.   Probably a pretty standard meal. When Jesus talks of remembrance, He knows that these disciples will remember because they will break bread together soon and often. They will drink wine again together, also soon and many times after that. Jesus’ intention is not that we should set 2 Sunday services a month aside for communion but that we should remember and remember together.

I can see it know, as i type: Jesus has died. The disciples are meeting around a meal. They give thanks. There is laughing and maybe even a story or two of what the day held for this one or that one. Peter reaches over and picks up the bread. Having no bread knife, he breaks a piece off as is the custom. The chatter stops. The bread is passed around. One by one they take a piece, tearing it from the whole. They are hungry & this is why they are eating but now they stop to remember.

They remember His body. Broken. They remember the horror of it all: days seeming like months. They remember the pain of seeing his pain. They remember the lifeless bones taken down and laid in the tomb. They remember. They start talking about the resurrection, the empty tomb, seeing Him again in the upper room and on the road one night. They talk of the power at pentecost and the boldness and passion they now have. They talk about how it’s all worth it, even if being a follower of the way puts a target on their back. They remember together. They realise that they are joined, not just by their memories or shared love for a man, God, their saviour. They realise that because of him, they are family and that they can survive this life and be in this world but not of it because of him.

Then the cup comes. They take a sip to quench their thirst, to wash down the bread. This is no different to any other meal but again they remember.  In their mind’s eye rolls a reel of jumbled & horrific scenes of blood flowing: a crown of thorns, nails in hands and feet.  Blood.  Lots of it.  They realise that this blood, the blood that flowed so freely, symbolized by the cup raised to their lips, is the blood that cleanses them, sets them free.  The price is paid.  Freedom theirs.

And then we read of the early church in Acts who, under the powerful move of God’s Spirit, live boldly and proclaim truth without fear.  These warriors are also a community, doing life together and – surprise, surprise – they break bread together… in fact, they are devoted to it!  It is also not an insular activity but rather forms part of daily life.

So today, lying on the carpet in the interns’ office, Simon, Jen, Jacques, Greg and I broke bread together and drank from the cup.  We remembered.  We reflected.  We celebrated community.  We acknowledged that life with God and each other is intertwined and in the centre of it all stands the cross of Christ, continually reminding us of the price paid because we are loved.  Deeply.  Dearly.

I am challenged