Our Lord well knew how prone we are to forget. The disciples had witnessed the feeding of the 5,000, yet the Lord had to reprove them for forgetting that miracle. How significant, then, that it was on the eve of His betrayal that Christ instituted His memorial service. Surely it was no mere circumstance that found the disciples together for this special hour (Luke 22:14). This points to the important truth that the nature of the Lord’s Supper is communal, while baptism, the other major ordinance of Christianity, is individual. Nor was it a mere accident that following the resurrection, the Lord’s day, the first day of the week, was soon chosen for its weekly observance.
The Lord’s deep concern for this holy ordinance is further demonstrated by the fact that each of the three synoptic gospels (that is, Matthew, Mark, and Luke) record almost the same words as used by Christ. Moreover, a special revelation from heaven was given to the apostle Paul, and again we note the same words as in the Gospels.
My thesis for this paper is that the failure of the Christian testimony, both personally and corporately, is due, at least in part, to an incomplete understanding of the meaning and purpose of the Lord’s Supper and to the common indifference toward the serious consequences to all who take of the emblems without “discerning the Lord’s body” (1 Cor. 11:26,34). The corollary inference follows: we cannot expect God’s full blessing in our worship and evangelistic efforts until we are right in our personal and corporate relationship with Him.
The first crisis developed in the early Church when news came to Paul that division was threatening at Corinth. The apostle immediately wrote his first letter to the Corinthians in order to instruct and reprove this assembly for disorders there: following human leaders, allowance of moral evil, and misuse of the Lord’s Supper, “not discerning the Lord’s body.”
Philip Melanchthon, one of the Reformation theologians, asked this question in 1544: “Is there anything more sorrowful, more deserving of tears, than that the Lord’s Supper should be used as a subject of strife and division?” He had good reason to be sorrowful. A few years before, Luther and Zwingli had met at Marburg Castle to continue the discussion of the question of the meaning of “this is My body… this is My blood.” The first Protestant conference failed, and tragically, Luther refused to take the proffered hand of fellowship from his fellow brother in Christ. There would never be another opportunity to heal the breach of the two great branches of Protestantism which they represented.
If Philip Melanchthon were alive today, he might well shed tears because of the indifference generally toward the purpose and meaning of the Lord’s Supper. I must confess that for years I partook of the supper in an unworthy manner, failing to make progress in the Christian life, a “roller coaster” style of experience, having “a wandering mind, chasing butterflies” (Spurgeon). In all this I was blind to the seriousness of the memorial ordinance (1 Cor. 11:27-30).
William Kelly in The Lord’s Supper asks, “How can a Christian partake in an unworthy manner? If the day comes and you merely go to it as a religious habit, it seems very like an unworthy partaking of it.” Familiarity breeds contempt where the soul is unexercised; where self-judgment is kept up, the spirit of worship is strengthened and enlarged.
The Lord’s Supper should not be a perfunctory religious exercise, nor is it a sacrifice with the bread and wine becoming the actual body and blood of Christ as some claim. What, then, is the true meaning of it?
Clearly, the preeminent purpose of the Lord’s Supper is to provide a focal point for the united worship of Christ by His redeemed saints. “As often as ye eat this bread and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord’s death till He come” (1 Cor. 11:26). The bread and the wine are symbols of the body and blood of Christ: ‘Take, eat; this is My body which is broken for you. . . . This cup is the new testament in My blood” (11:24,25). Thus, the gathered saints are reminded afresh by the loaf of bread and the cup of wine of the suffering and death of the Lord Jesus Christ for their sakes. Such a reminder and the meditations that flow from it lead in turn to the fresh outflow of worship from the hearts and mouths of the saints so gathered. It is not only the worship of individuals but it is communal worship—the saints united together in worshiping the Lord whose death they are showing forth. Thus are the hearts of the saints not only drawn out to the Lord in this act of worship, but drawn to one another as “one body in Christ, and every one members one of another” (Rom. 12:5).
But I believe there is even more to it—an aspect of our receiving something from the Lord at the same time as we give to Him our worship. Writing 940 years ago, Berenger of Tours expounded the view that “the body and blood of Christ were present not in essence but in power. The substance remained unchanged; faith on the part of the recipient was needed to make the power effectual” (quoted by E. Lutzer in All One Body, p. 104 ). Or as a brother stated at a recent Bible conference, “Christ ministers Himself to us through the bread and wine. “
As we think of Christ’s words, “This is My body given [given up, totally surrendered] for you,” we are led to realize what was achieved by that giving; for example, “And you . . . hath He reconciled in the body of His flesh through death” (Col. 1:21,22), “We are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ” (Heb. 10:10), “Christ… bore our sins in His own body on the tree” (1 Pet. 2:24). And as we think of His words, “This is My blood . .. shed [poured out] for many,” we are led to realize what was achieved by that pouring out; for example, “Being now justified by His blood” (Rom. 5:9), “We have redemption through His blood” (Col. 1:14), “Having made peace through the blood of His cross” (Col. 1:20), “The blood of Jesus Christ . . . cleanseth us from all sin” (1 John 1:7). Then, as we meditate on all that was achieved by the giving up of Himself and the pouring out of His blood, and on the horrible suffering involved in that giving and pouring out, do we not receive a fresh and powerful sense of Christ’s infinitely profound love for us, and a correspondingly fresh desire and motivation to obey and serve Him?
Much more could be written about the significance of the Lord’s Supper. For example, we read in 1 Cor. 10:17 that the one loaf also symbolizes the unity of all believers as Christ’s body: “We being many are one bread and one body; for we are all partakers of that one bread.” Also, in Matt. 18:20 we learn that by gathering together unto the name of the Lord Jesus Christ the believers are blessed with Christ’s real spiritual presence with them. There is enough meaning and food for our souls and spirits in the Lord’s Supper to prevent it from ever becoming a mere ritual or something we attend only because we think we should.
Through grace and a more complete knowledge, why should we not look forward with joy and anticipation to remembering Him on the Lord’s day morning with those whose hearts are united in love for Him and for one another. May we relive the experience of those disciples of whom Luke tells us, “He was known of them in the breaking of bread.” Here grace received through the power of realizing His spiritual presence, I believe, will flow through us each hour of each day of the coming week. More and more we shall find ourselves separated from those things that are not pleasing to Him.
Understanding and laying hold of these things will profoundly change our lives. In turn, continuing growth toward maturity and realizing the power of the Holy Spirit living out through us the life of Christ will help to demonstrate to the world the meaning of the one body.
Ed. note: In the preceding article the suggestion has been made that in addition to our giving worship to Christ at the Lord’s Supper, Christ at the same time ministers to us. Stanzas and lines of some hymns that are commonly sung in observance of the Lord’s Supper are now given to illustrate ways in which Christ may minister to us at such a meeting. These hymns are taken from Hymns for the Little Flock (denoted by “LF”) and Hymns of Grace and Truth (“GT”).
In “On That Same Night Lord Jesus,” we find some beautiful expressions concerning the Lord’s suffering: “The depth of all Thy suffering/ No heart could e’er conceive;/ The cup of wrath o’erflowing/ For us Thou didst receive;/ And oh! of God forsaken,/ On the accursed tree./ With grateful hearts, Lord Jesus,/ We now remember Thee.// We think of all the darkness/ Which round Thy spirit pressed,/ Of all those waves and billows/ Which rolled across Thy breast. …” The hymn concludes with the suggestion of a practical response in our hearts to such meditations: ‘Till Thou shalt come in glory,/ And call us hence away,/ To rest in all the brightness/ Of that unclouded day,/ We show Thy death, Lord Jesus,/ And here would seek to be/ More to Thy death conformed,/ While we remember Thee” (G. W. Frazer, LF #245).
“We Bless Our Saviour’s Name,” concludes with the stanza: “O let Thy love constrain/ Our souls to cleave to Thee!/ And ever in our hearts remain/ That word, ‘Remember Me'” (J. G. Deck, LF #146).
“Lord Jesus! We Remember” also concludes with the practical result in our lives: “From sin, the world, and Satan,/ We’re ransomed by Thy blood,/ And here would walk as strangers,/ Alive with Thee to God” (J. G. Deck, LF #149). In a similar vein, “O My Saviour Glorified” concludes with: “O my Saviour, glorified,/ Turn my eye from all beside,/ Let me but Thy beauty see—/ Other light is dark to me” (F. C. Jennings, GT #56).
Isaac Watts pointedly shows the incompatibility of the contemplation of the wondrous cross of Christ and His transcendent love with our lust of the flesh, lust of the eyes, and pride of life: “When we survey the wondrous cross/ On which the Lord of glory died,/ Our richest gain we count but loss,/ And pour contempt on all our pride.// Forbid it, Lord, that we should boast,/ Save in the death of Christ, our God;/ All the vain things that charm us most,/ We’d sacrifice them to His blood.// Were the whole realm of nature ours,/ That were an offering far too small;/ Love that transcends our highest powers,/ Demands our soul, our life, our all” (LF #283).