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 I cannot remember the first time I received the Lord’s Supper. In fact, I remember very few communion services from my childhood. And yet, I have distinct memories of the Lord’s Supper: a composite memory of every communion service1 I was a part of until I was well into my 20s.
In my experience, it mattered not what region of the U.S. I was in, who the pastor was, or where the pastor prepared for ministry. Regardless of those factors, each communion service had three distinct characteristics: they were infrequent, somber, and had a short guest list. The term “quarterly communion” seemed to set a maximum frequency rather than a minimum. If questions arose about why we did not observe the Lord’s Supper more often, the standard answer was that we were preserving its significance. I remember a mixture of disdain and pity for churches that had weekly communion, as if that fact doomed them to the loss of “meaningful” communion experiences. Our dogged determination to partake infrequently served a higher purpose: keeping communion meaningful.
 Back before the organ had obtained such notoriety in the worship wars, it was the Nazarene’s default instrument for communion music. The organ was always played softly enough that it might not even be noticed— like a Christian version of the ubiquitous “Muzak” of the 1970s. A truer description, however, was that it sounded like funeral home music, played in a way that invoked a hushed silence, whether or not there was an accompanying sense of awe. Even apart from any words spoken, the music created a somber tone. When the invitation was given to partake of the elements, a strong emphasis was placed on not receiving the elements “unworthily.” This emphasis was so strong that if you had argued with your spouse or siblings on the way to church that morning (or committed any of a hundred other more grievous offenses) your worthiness was questionable. Refraining from partaking, as I remember those services, was a common occurrence.
There was no specific teaching that things should be this way. But there was such a remarkable similarity in all my experiences that I assumed this was the “Nazarene” or “holiness tradition” way of enacting a communion service: infrequent, somber, and with a short guest list.
In my mid-20s, I dug into John Wesley’s sermons and writings and read secondary works on Wesley2. I discovered a remarkable incongruity between the “Nazarene” way of communion and Wesley’s approach. Wesley’s perspective was different on every count.
Far from making communion a somber event, it was frequently a celebration for Wesley.
Wesley argued for “constant communion,” which for him meant weekly, at a minimum3. Far from making communion a somber event, it was frequently a celebration for Wesley. John and Charles Wesley compiled a collection of “Hymns on the Lord’s Supper,” organized under six different headings. Some lyrics lend themselves to a somber, reflective tone, but the vast majority of songs are celebratory. In contrast to 27 hymns under the heading, “As it is a Memorial of the Sufferings and Death of Christ,” 65 of the 166 hymns were in the section titled “As it is a Sign and Means of Grace,” 23 were under the heading, “The Sacrament a Pledge of Heaven,” and nine were triumphant songs of praise under the heading “After the Sacrament.”4
Wesley encouraged broad participation in the Lord’s Supper. Christians who were afraid of eating and drinking unworthily were warned of a much greater danger in not eating or drinking at all5. Furthermore, not only the converted, but sinners, too, were invited to partake.6
 How did congregations that self-consciously identified themselves in the Wesleyan tradition end up with views on communion that diverged so widely from Wesley’s own? The full answer is a long one, tracing a series of shifts in practices and perspectives over more than two centuries. Francis Asbury was a key “culprit” early on, as he never embraced Wesley’s perspectives on the Lord’s Supper. Along the way, the richness of the eucharistic hymns of Wesley, and a host of other factors, were lost7. But there is a much more concise summary of what happened: simply put, the Nazarene communion worship of my childhood was based on a memorialist view and did not view communion primarily as a means of grace.8
Some may argue that this transition signifies no great loss. Perhaps Wesley’s views on communion can be put into the same category as his track record in romantic relationships: of historical interest, but not worthy of emulation. I would argue that it is of great importance for us to recover Wesley’s perspective on communion as a means of grace because those views are part and parcel of his views on the pursuit of the holy life. To jettison John Wesley’s views of the means of grace (with the Lord’s Supper being the “grand channel” among those means) is to leave us with a seriously truncated version of Wesley’s theology. For Wesley, the pursuit of the holy life was initiated and sustained by the grace of God. Although God could choose any way God desired to extend grace to humanity, there were specific ways in which we could be confident that God’s grace was active. These means were not “divvied up” into certain means of prevenient grace, other means of justifying grace, and yet other means of sanctifying grace. Rather, each of the means could convey each of these “types” of grace. In Wesley’s own words, “By ‘means of grace’ I understand outward signs, words, or actions, ordained of God, and appointed for this end, to be the ordinary channels whereby he might convey to men, preventing [prevenient], justifying, or sanctifying grace.”9
What is needed is not “more of the same,” but a refreshed vision of communion as a means of prevenient, justifying, and sanctifying grace that will nourish all who partake.
As scholars and pastors become more aware of the incongruity between Wesley’s views and typical practice in churches that identify themselves as part of the “Wesleyan tradition,” we face a conundrum. Is our first move to increase the frequency of communion services in local congregations, so that our practices parallel Wesley’s own practices? Or do we work first to re-introduce the view of communion as a means of grace? It need not be an “either/or” proposition, yet I think the first order of business is to recover Wesley’s view of communion as a means of grace. I agree with James White’s assessment more than 25 years ago, that “to institute a weekly celebration of the eucharist under the spirit and form in which it is now performed . . . in most Protestant churches would be an unmitigated disaster.”10 What is needed is not “more of the same,” but a refreshed vision of communion as a means of prevenient, justifying, and sanctifying grace that will nourish all who partake.
Recovery of a robust view of communion as a means of grace would open the door for congregations to embrace more frequent communion. Indeed, if our primary perspective on communion is as a means of grace, rather than a strict memorialist view, the whole discussion about communion is framed in new ways. All three of the characteristics of my earliest experiences of communion services (infrequent, somber, and with a short guest list) could be reformed.
If communion is viewed primarily as a means of grace, the discussion about the appropriate frequency for communion is based on a very different set of assumptions. If we avail ourselves of some means of grace daily (reading Scripture, prayer, etc.), and avail ourselves of some means of grace weekly (the ministry of the word, public prayer, Christian fellowship, etc.), why would we not offer communion as a means of grace each week? While it is likely true that we do not need 52 weeks of somber, overly penitential observances of communion, the problem is with the tone of the observance rather than with the sacrament itself. The argument that greater frequency leads to less significance is not typically made for the other weekly components of worship (prayer, sermon, offering, etc.). Nor is that argument made, outside the sanctuary, for other activities in which we are engaged. If someone loves to play golf, for instance, would we try to convince them to only play four rounds per year so that golf doesn’t become a dull, meaningless routine? Some activities would grow tedious if practiced weekly (remembering our high school graduation, for example, or memorializing the death of a loved one), but it does not follow that any activity performed weekly loses its meaning. Would we imagine making that argument for any activity that brings joy—sports, reading, connubial relations— that to do it frequently makes it less meaningful? As nothing more than a memorial of the death of Christ, perhaps weekly communion is too frequent. But as a means of grace, how can it be received too frequently? Here’s how Wesley framed the issue:
Why do you not accept of his mercy as often as ever you can? God now offers you his blessing; — why do you refuse it?
As God, whose mercy is over all his works, and particularly over the children of men, knew there was but one way for man to be happy like himself; namely, by being like him in holiness; as he knew we could do nothing towards this of ourselves, he has given us certain means of obtaining his help. One of these is the Lord’s Supper, which, of his infinite mercy, he hath given for this very end; that through this means we may be assisted to attain those blessings which he hath prepared for us; that we may obtain holiness on earth, and everlasting glory in heaven. I ask, then, Why do you not accept of his mercy as often as ever you can? God now offers you his blessing; — why do you refuse it? You have now an opportunity of receiving his mercy; — why do you not receive it? You are weak: — why do not you seize every opportunity of increasing your strength? In a word: Considering this as a command of God, he that does not communicate [receive communion] as often as he can has no piety; considering it as a mercy, he that does not communicate as often as he can has no wisdom.11
In our denomination’s first 20 years of existence, the Aticle of Faith on the Lord’s Supper included the phrase, “Of the obligation to partake of the privileges of this sacrament, as often as we may be providentially permitted, there can be no doubt.”12 Recovery of Wesley’s view of communion as a means of grace would allow us to embrace our own Nazarene roots that emphasize frequent communion.13
 The tone of communion is given a fresh perspective if communion is considered primarily as a means of grace. While there are appropriate times for communion to draw our attention to Christ’s death on the cross, that focus does not exhaust all the meanings of communion.14 If another specific meaning is the focus (foretaste of the heavenly feast, meal of Christian unity, thanksgiving, etc.) the tone can be shaped by that specific focus. Regardless of the specific emphasis, however, if communion is approached as a means of grace, the celebration of that grace itself is always appropriate. Both the words of institution and the music that accompanies the distribution of the elements can be rescued from being somber and communion can be truly celebrated, not just “observed.”
Communion as a means of grace offers the potential for a dramatically different understanding of who is invited to the table. If communion is solely a “confirming” ordinance, then it is offered only to those who have previously experienced justifying grace. If communion is more broadly viewed as a means of grace, however, it is offered to all who earnestly seek God’s grace—at any stage of their journey. Wesley insisted that communion was a means of prevenient, justifying, and sanctifying grace. Therefore, unbelievers were invited to receive communion. Wesley clearly articulated this view in 1740 in the midst of his conflict with the Moravians at Fetter Lane. The “stillness” teachings of the Moravians said that the means of grace should only be pursued by those who were not only justified, but who had also experienced “assurance” of their salvation. This teaching so rankled Wesley that he gave daily discourses for a week at Fetter Lane on the means of grace. Here is his journal summary of his teachings on the final day of that series:
I showed at large, (1) that the Lord’s Supper was ordained by God to be a means of conveying to men either preventing or justifying, or sanctifying grace, according to their several necessities; (2) that the persons for whom it was ordained are all those who know and feel that they want the grace of God, either to restrain them from sin, or to show their sins forgiven, or to renew their souls in the image of God; (3) that inasmuch as we come to his table, not to give him anything but to receive whatsoever he sees best for us, there is no previous preparation indispensably necessary, but a desire to receive whatsoever he pleases to give; and (4) that no fitness is required at the time of communicating but a sense of our state, of our utter sinfulness and helplessness; every one who knows he is fit for hell being just fit to come to Christ, in this as well as all other ways of his appointment.15
Over 30 years later, Wesley addressed the issue of the unconverted being invited to the table even more directly, in a letter to John Simpson:
Ought every unbeliever to pray or communicate? Yes. “Ask, and it (faith) shall be given you.” And if you believe Christ died for guilty, helpless sinners, then eat that Bread and drink of that Cup.16
Clearly, Wesley’s views on communion as a means of prevenient grace did not diminish as he grew older.
As I read Wesley’s perspective on communion, I received a vision of an act of worship that we would long to participate in, as opposed to “having” to participate in. I also saw an act of worship approached with great anticipation and joy. And I no longer saw communion as something we do, either in obedience to a command of Christ, or as a means to some vague spiritual end. It became something God does, as a means to a particular end—offering grace that will draw us to God, justify us, and sanctify us. In short, communion is one of God’s means to the end of renewing us in the image of Christ; making us holy.
I offer this message as one more encouragement to move us in the direction of more frequent communion— not only for frequency’s sake, but as an effort at “reconnecting the means to the end.”17 I hope that we might be captured by the vision of this wondrous means (of grace) that God has provided in order to achieve God’s end of renewing us in the image of Christ. The Lord’s Supper is more than just a memory. God truly does something in us when we come to his table. At his table, we not only remember, but we actually receive “life and salvation and promise of all spiritual blessings in Christ.”18
NOTE: Be sure to read the responses from other people below this article.
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Comments
who seek help there. Communion as rightly defined affords all the opportunity to receive the help they need. Thanks again Jim for this long awaited, clearly stated, and much needed
article. And hats off to Grace and Peace for allowing it to happen.
I characterize myself primarily as hungry. Having been in Nazarene ministry for more than 30 years, I sometimes feel odd attending Roman, Anglican or Episcopal services on vacations. Last year while on an extended sabbatical, I attended worship almost entirely in these settings in order to receive the Eucarist or even a blessing. The Episcopal and Anglican services welcomed me to partake of the Eucharist. One very familiar Roman monastery also allowed me to participate. However, even going forward with my arms crossed before me and receiving a blessing from the priest was such a feast for my starving soul.
I am not a scholar, but I understand neediness and longing. We are good at giving (our praise, offerings, prayers, blessings, etc.), however, I find myself more often a poor beggar when it comes to worship. And communion is my place to be a blessed recipient. You have helped me understand how and why.
Perhaps the principle objection to Wesley's understanding of communion (particularly in relation to unbelievers participating) is based on Paul's admonition to the church in Corinth in 1 Corinthians 11:28-32. This is often taken to mean that if one is not worthy (who is by the way?) to sup at the Lord's table then they should be excluded (a view expressed in comment #5 above). This would of course exclude unbelievers as well as children from the table, because they have not yet merited a place there (as an aside it is interesting that those who often level this criticism hold very strongly to a Reformed view of free grace, but contradictorily hold to a view of works righteousness when it comes to participating at the Lord's table).
Yet I would contend that such a reading of Paul's words in 1 Corinthians 11:28-32 ignore the broader context in which those words are found and as a result are in danger of committing essentially the very sin which Paul was warning the Church against. To understand the context we cannot read 1 Corinthians 11:28-32 separate from 1 Cor. 11:17-22 because it is here that Paul makes it very clear what he means (in this particular case) by eating the Lord's Supper in an unworthy manner.
First we see that Paul was writing to the Church, to Christians. His words in 1 Cor. 11 ARE NOT DIRECTED TO UNBELIEVERS. This means that the particular sin that Paul saw at work in the Corinthian church was a sin committed by believers against other believers. I would also argue that the sin addressed here could not be committed by unbelievers, therefore this admonition could be applied to them.
Second I think we need to take great care in universalizing Paul's words here. They are clearly written as a response to a specific sin in a specific church. Now, that is not to say that there are not general principles that can be learned from Paul's words here (as I will attempt to show in a minute) but Paul was not writing this as general rules for participation in communion he was writing it in response to what believers in this particular church were doing to other believers.
Third we need to take into account the nature of the sin being committed so as to understand what Paul means here by eating the Lord's Supper in an unworthy manner. He makes it very clear in verse 18 that the sin that he has in mind is the sin of division in the body. More specifically some members were excluding others from fellowship at the Lord's table (this is where I believe the kind of memorialist understanding of the Lord's table as expressed in comment #5 ironically strays very close to committing the very sin that Paul is warning the Corinthian church against). The eucharist was practiced within the context of a larger communal meal, and it seems evident that in the church at Corinth those who could afford to bring food to the meal ate, whilst those who could not were excluded from the meal including the eucharist. Thus in essence only those who could afford it participated. The rest were left to go hungry (in every sense of the word). It was the exclusion of those who were poor from the table that Paul condemns. It has nothing to do with unbelievers coming to the table. Therefore the essence of the sin that Paul here condemns (and this is where the principle touches us) is the exclusion of others from the fellowship of the body and in particular communion with our Lord and one another at his table.
In verse 29 he criticizes them for not discerning the body of Christ. I believe when read in context he is not speaking of the bread as the body of Christ here, but rather the Church. They were not discerning the needs of the body of Christ, the needs of the Church. They were allowing their brothers and sisters to go hungry, and in the face of their hunger they were engorging themselves. Paul then goes on to tell them, "is it any wonder that many among you are sick and have died" (words that are usually interpreted as judgement against those who partake in unworthy manner), words that I think indicate that the poverty of some in the church was so bad that they were malnourished and as a result were falling sick and dying. This would also indicate that the apathy of the wealthy in the Corinthian church extended beyond their meeting times to their daily lives so that their lack of care for the poor was such that they would sooner let them fall ill and die than help to alleviate their hunger. That is something certainly worth criticizing.
Paul is talking about a group within the body that was not caring for the needs of the rest of the body and was holding the eucharist hostage as it where as their own private possession to be enjoyed only by those who met their requirements. It had become the dividing symbol between who has made it, and who was on the outside looking in.
While we may not place a financial threshold for the reception of the Lord's grace at his table, we all too often place a spiritual one, but the net effect is the same; some of us become spiritual gluttons, whilst others are left on the outside looking in malnourished and hungry.
Holy Communion and what it means to me has its roots that go back 50 plus years. It was while I was stationed on the USS Saratoga in the Mediterranean Sea that I first became acquainted with Communion. I was invited to attend chapel service by a friend one Sunday morning, and after the Chaplain finished his message he offered communion and I was led to believe that everyone was welcome to participate. Not being a Christian at the time, I did not discover until later that in taking communion I was eating and drinking judgment to myself as Paul warned in I Cor. [11:29] “For he who eats and drinks in an unworthy manner eats and drinks judgment to himself, not discerning the Lord's body.” It saddens me even to this day after coming to Christ and serving the Lord nearly 50 years that I betrayed the blood of Christ that Sunday morning. Some may say that it was taken in innocence, but to me it was still wrong what I had done against Christ.
Communion may differ in its meaning to some people, and all may not see it the same way or interpret its significance to the body of Christ the same way. I do not see Communion as a means of grace or as a means to an end as the article supports. As a Christian I am already living in a state of grace and to me Communion is not so much a channel of divine grace as it is an expression of obedience and faith in Christ in remembrance of what Christ did for us on Calvary. The term “Eucharist” in the Greek literally means thanksgiving, or to give thanks to someone. In Luke [22:19-20] Luke wrote; “And He took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, ‘This is My body which is given for you; do this in remembrance of Me.’ Likewise He also took the cup after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in My blood, which is shed for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”
The Lord’s Supper is the basis of our true fellowship by which the assembled church commemorates the death and resurrection of our Lord as its spiritual life. The bread symbolizes the body of Christ which suggests the staff of life or the very basis of life itself. The wine symbolizes the pressing out of Christ’s life for our sins. There are several things that we as Christians can learn from this:
1. The sacraments symbolize the death of Christ for our sins.
2. And reminds us of our death to sin in Christ.
3. It confirms Christ’s death as our means of righteousness.
4. It reminds us that our sins are the cause of His death.
5. It reaffirms our salvation through His death and our hope in Christ for all eternity.
When we come to the Lord’s table to receive these elements we submit ourselves again to receive the merits of Christ’s death not as if one has sinned again but as a continual remembrance of the time when God’s mercy drew us into grace and we accepted Christ as our savior and thereby show Christ’s death until He comes again as Paul instructed the Corinthians. There are two requirements to participate in the Lord’s Supper as seen in scripture.
1. That the person be regenerated or saved by grace.
2. That he or she is walking in fellowship with Christ.
The apostle Paul in writing his instructions to the Corinthians for taking Communion must have drawn upon an Old Testament teaching concerning keeping the Passover seeing that the Passover and Communion conveyed parallel truths. What is interesting to note in the (OT) if a stranger who dwells among the Jews, and wants to keep the Passover to the Lord, he and all his males must be cir-cised according to the law. Then he is considered just as a native of the land as the Jew. God said in Exodus [12: 49] “One law shall be for the native-born and for the stranger who dwells among you.” The law recognized no distinction between the native born and alien? This is important if we are to understand what Paul meant when he said in I Corinthians [11:28-29] “But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For he who eats and drinks in an unworthy manner eats and drinks judgment to himself, not discerning the Lord’s body.”
The comparison here is that Cir-cision and the Passover conveys similar truths; the former (cir-cision) is the sign of Israel election by God’s choice and a sign of God’s covenant with His people. And is the fulfillment of the covenant on God’s part as seen in their deliverance from bondage from Egypt. The Lord’s Supper is the new covenant delivering mankind from the bondage of sin and our redemption that we received through Christ shed blood on Calvary. Both can only be observed under strict rules. Under the Passover the uncir-cised were forbidden to eat the Passover, and the unsaved are instructed not to take part in the Lord’s Supper.
How many times in a life time should a believer in Christ take Communion. As the Holy Spirit leads I believe becomes the conscience of the body of Christ where he or she worships. Paul in his account of the Lord’s Supper, nor did Christ set a time frame, only that we do this in remembrance however often we observe.
“More than just a Memory but still in need of a Memory: A Response to Jim Fitzgerald”
by Stephen P. Riley
I want to thank Jim for his helpful thoughts about Communion and its place in regular worship for those of us in the Wesleyan-Holiness tradition. I think he has hit on a very important topic for us as we continue to think about what it means to live out God’s gracious invitation to “be holy as I am holy” in this world. I think Jim is correct in pointing out that we, as human beings, are in need of regular practices that help shape us into the kind of people we hope, and believe God wants us, to be. For that reason, I’d like to offer my thoughts, born out of my current place of scriptural reflection, which I hope will dovetail with Jim’s insights in order to further the conversation.
The first thing I truly appreciate about Jim’s presentation on Communion as a means of grace is his attempt to recover a very common theme from the story of God’s people in scripture. I’ve spent a lot of time recently in the book of Deuteronomy and, as Jim points out about Wesley’s desire to participate as regularly as possible in the sacrament, the people of Israel were instructed to regularly come together for the purpose of encountering God and becoming transformed through what we now call worship. It is very interesting how often the people are instructed to gather in Deuteronomy. Many will recall the admonishment in chapter 16, which specifically deals with the yearly festivals. However, there are also instructions for the Israelites to gather for regular sacrifices in chapter 12 and for the offering of -hes in chapters 14 and 26. This regular pattern of gathering was obviously important to ancient Israel and has carried over into contemporary communities.
However, there is another point of connection with what Jim has highlighted about Communion as a means of grace, which is more than just gathering regularly. While it is true that in each of the chapters listed above, the Israelites are instructed to meet together and engage in some type of formative worship activity, they are also repeatedly told to do so with rejoicing. In fact, in each chapter the themes of coming together for these formative activities and rejoicing are intricately linked. One of the best examples can be found in chapter 14. The Israelites are directed to bring the -he of their produce before the Lord. An amazing part of this instruction occurs when the Israelites are allowed to sell their -he and basically have a party together if the distance to come to “the place where the Lord will choose” is too great. I think this highlights that for ancient Israel the gathering for worship activities was meant to be joyful and life-inducing rather than sad and life-taking. Thus, when we have the opportunity to participate in any worship activity, particularly in the sacraments, we should rejoice together in the opportunity to encounter God and be transformed by such encounters.
The second concept I would like to draw attention to is that of remembrance. This resounding in Deuteronomy is found in many of these same passages regarding worship. Israel is constantly told to remember. They are told to remember that they were once slaves and that God has delivered them and is giving them a new land. There are specific instances where Israel includes remembering as a part of their worship. Chapter 16 details the three major festivals of the year for Israel; two of the three are specifically tied to remembering the Exodus event and God’s saving act in bringing Israel out of the house of slavery. Chapter 26 admonishes the Israelites to bring the first fruits of the harvest to the priest and in the act of giving recite an extended memory of God’s deliverance (see 26:5-9). When we gather to participate in the sacrament of Communion, not only should we rejoice in that opportunity, we should also make a point to remember why we do what we do. The technical language for this is called anámnesis, which means something like “remembering.” This is not remembering in a nostalgic manner, much like we think of “days gone by.” Rather, anamnesis has to do with recalling a particular story into the present so that those who hear it are invited to participate in the present-ness of the story. Thus, the anámnesis is the point in the Communion liturgy, where we say certain words that remind us of who it is that invites us to this great encounter, and whose grace it is that will ultimately transform us.
I do not believe we must become legalistic in our remembrance. However, I also believe it is important to use some prescribed words, much like the Israelites were told to do in chapter 26. My concern stems from participation in some worship services where something like Communion was practiced but absent were words of anámnesis. I fear that if we leave out the important words of the story of God’s gracious invitation and presence we miss all that Communion can be for us, as Jim so beautifully observes. I believe that for Communion to be all that it is intended to be, it must be more than just a memory, but it must always include a memory so that every time we gather together we are reminded that as we encounter God’s transforming presence in Communion, our transformation has a goal—our participation in the ongoing work of God in this world.
In Response to “More than just a Memory:
Communion as a Means to Make Us Holy”
By Tony Griffin
It is an honor to respond to Dr. Jim Fitzgerald’s reflections on Holy Communion as a means of grace. Jim is a unique combination of pastor and scholar. He is a gift to the Church of the Nazarene and we are blessed to have his thoughts on this topic.
Jim’s call to a more Wesleyan understanding of the practice of Holy Communion in the Church of the Nazarene is a much-needed corrective to our memorialist heritage that undermines the fullness of the Lord’s Supper as a means of grace. As Jim demonstrates from John and Charles Wesley’s sermons and hymnody, a Wesleyan view of Holy Communion is much more than simply a “memorial.” The Wesleys saw in this sacrament as key to forming Christian temperaments and encouraging practice that takes into account the fullness of God’s self-giving in the sacrament. Yes, it is memorial, but it is also an eschatological supper hosted by Christ himself. Jesus Christ is the host who invites us into deep communion that at once “re-members” us as the body of Christ and draws us into deep communion to experience God’s grace fresh and anew.
Jim could not be more correct when he encourages our churches to embark on a journey that offers a “refreshed vision of communion as a means of prevenient, justifying, and sanctifying grace that will nourish all who partake” – a thoroughly Christian, Wesleyan vision. Perhaps there is no more significant time in the life of the church for a fully orbed view of communion to fulfill the church’s mission of “making Christ-like disciples in the nations.” In North American culture in particular, we are immersed in messages that seek to form good consumers rather than Christ-like disciples. We must provide the church with leadership that encourages all disciples to drink deeply from the means of grace.
Jim challenges us to embark on a journey of renewal and there are many resources to assist pastors and congregations in this endeavor. Jim makes mention of Dr. Rob Staples classic on the topic, Outward Sign and Inward Grace: The Place of the Sacraments in Wesleyan Spirituality, a classic destined to spark renewal in the life of the Church of the Nazarene. Dr. Samuel Powell also offers an accessible introduction to the sacraments of the church in A Teacher’s Guide to Understanding the Sacraments particularly suitable for Sunday school teacher training and small group study. We would also do well to consider other Wesleyan denominations’ considerations of the sacrament of Holy Communion, e.g., This Holy Mystery: A United Methodist Understanding of Holy Communion or His Presence Makes the Feast, a study of the practice of Holy Communion in the Methodist Church of Great Britain (both of these publications are available online for review free of charge). However, we would be remiss to only consider a cognitive theological approach to the sacraments while failing to consider the embodied nature of presiding at the Lord’s Table and the participation of the gathered community in the Lord’s Supper. Kimberly Bracken Long’s book The Worshiping Body: The Art of Leading Worship is helpful in attending to these issues. Dr. Jesse Middendorf’s The Church Rituals Handbook is a gift to the church in this respect as well.
It is my sincere hope that readers will take Jim’s observations to heart and call their congregations and our denomination to a renewed appreciation of fullness of this sacrament as well as a renewal of our practice for it is indeed a “grand channel” to God’s abiding grace.
TONY GRIFFIN, an elder in the Church of the Nazarene, was the founding executive director of the Zig Ziglar Center for Ethical Leadership at Southern Nazarene University. He currently pastors in Arkansas.
A response to “More Than Just a Memory” By Dr. James Fitzgerald
By Melissa K. DeBono, Associate Pastor at the Bethel Church of the Nazarene; Quincy, MA
I knelt reverently at the radiator with three saltines and a Tupperware chalice. The grown ups in the kitchen must have determined that I was not committing heresy and the feast was allowed to continue; quarterly at church and as often as I wanted at the snack table. Once upon a time I used the childhood tools of play to practice roles that would be perfected later in life.
Over the years, I have somehow grown into the role of hosting at the full-size table. The simple acts of preparing for communion–pouri ng the cups and dividing the bread–are shrouded in the words of prayer and celebration, elevating it beyond any other table gathering. I wonder, with Dr. Fitzgerald, how fasting from the Lord’s Table can do the church any good. I worship with a congregation where a few hungry people celebrate communion weekly and a larger number gather at the table monthly. The frequency of our celebration of communion shapes our fellowship.
Week after week, I watch as my congregation approaches the altar. A few know their physical limitations do not allow them to kneel and take a seat in the front row. Others hesitate, estimating the available space, and either slip in elbow to elbow or gracefully allow others space to kneel. Week after week, I watch the table manners of the Kingdom practiced here in flesh and blood; broken people, people in recovery, and people of wholeness and holiness, share space at the table. Week after week, we still become hungry for the profound.
We may equip ourselves with portable versions of sacred music, preaching, and Scripture, but the acts of the Spirit, the physical acts of worship, are sacred only as a shared activity: the passing of bread from hand to hand, the slide of an oily thumb across a brow, the splash of water against skin. These acts connect us body, mind, and spirit, to God beyond all comprehension, and to one another. They go beyond play acting and become actual participation in the Kingdom of heaven here and now.
There is nothing I do as a pastor that is more profound than walking through a maze of kneeling souls, lifting a tiny disk of bread off our shared plate and placing it into warm hands. As I break the bread to feed each and every person, I feel the weight of sanc-y. Some, closer to heaven than me, receive my promise of “the cup of salvation” with quiet dignity. Children accept wide-eyed the hope of “the bread of heaven.” Each time I offer these sacred gifts, I am humbled. The frequency of these acts only roots me more deeply in the manners of the kingdom.
At the Lord’s Table, we are rooted in the physical body and transported beyond it. We examine our relationship with the Holy One yet we are not free from our relationship with the body, even our relationship with food. I wonder if distancing the days between communion results in coming to the table starved. When we set the table four times a year, with the looming chords of the organ and with fear and trembling, is the destabilizing emotional fervor holy, or unhealthy?
Are we caught in a trap of spiritual anorexia, unable to surrender to the natural hungers of body, mind and spirit? It’s humbling to admit the needs of the body. The agonizing snare of pride may make us crave the super-human power to remain dignified at all times, never breaking concentration for the weaknesses of a meal, a bathroom break, or a nap. But a spiritual fast from the Lord’s Table does not prove our puritanical dignity, just our arrogance. For in our most essential form, we are all equalized at the Table. The poor, the sick, and the frail need to feed the body and the soul with the same attentiveness as the dignified, educated, and gifted.
In our tradition, we attempt to honor the body in our Eucharistic celebration, that it might be a hospitable table for all. A lasting legacy of our social justice and holiness heritage is the tradition of non-alcoholic communion, and more recently many churches offer gluten free communion. But we all celebrate communion as a physical act that touches the body, 13 calories that bind us with the communion of saints. The simple act of surrender is more than just a reminder, it is a holy bond. Someone among us receives those 13 calories with tears, because of the pain of her life. The great cloud of witnesses cracks her out of the meager control she has been able to create around her body. That is the beauty of true communion; we all sort through our needs, problems and pain at the table and ultimately, regardless of the factors that distinguish us from one another, find ourselves nourished and healed by our shared meal. The reminder that this is to be done with gladness, as eucharist, or great thanksgiving, is an additional nudge toward heaven. For thanksgiving and joy to erupt out of brokenness and pain is a living witness to resurrection. Nothing could be more holy.
Lately, when I hold the tiny slip of bread in my hands and pronounce the words of Christ, “whenever you do this, do so in remembrance of me,” I have been moved to desire an even more frequent celebration of communion. I wonder if Christ’s instructions might extend to every shared meal among believers. The question of frequency of communion may be turned on its head when we reserve Eucharist in a rarified form. In the week-in-and-week-out life of faith, there may be no better way to face today than to gather around a table with a community of love sharing a meal. That the meal may be more than just a memory–that it may be the actual touch of grace in our lives–only magnifies the call.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m still only play acting the actual mystery of the Kingdom. I may be becoming a more perfect self, more perfectly suited to the company of heaven. Rather than allowing my immaturity to keep me from the table, I believe that as my heavenly parent watches on, that there is nothing but gentle love and patience when, with all the reverence and love I can muster, I answer the call to join God’s fellowship at the Table. And even if I am just a shadow of the woman I am to be when this meal is reenacted in God’s Kingdom, I know that God will not leave me at the table alone. When God prepares the table, and invites me to come, God will be a gracious host even to the most humble guest. And I’m too hungry to stay away.
Grace Each Sunday:
Discovering Incredible Significance in the Weekly Practice of Communion
(In Response to Jim Fitzgerald’s “More Than Just a Memory”)
By Jennifer Chapman
As the pastor of a church that participates weekly in the sharing of the Lord’s Supper, I found Pastor Fitzgerald’s article to be a great encouragement. The means of grace described by John Wesley and explained in Fitzgerald’s article is just what we experience as we receive the sacrament week after week, grace each Sunday.
Our church meets in a lower-income apartment complex just up the street from an intersection recently identified as having the second highest crime rate in Dallas. Our congregation is made up of current residents of the apartment complex where we meet, and folks who drive in from other safer, more affluent neighborhoods. There are many things that divide the people who gather each Sunday as Nexus Community Church: culture, socio-economic status, ethnicity, life experiences. But when we come to the table we are all equally in need of grace, and as we share that meal together we are united as the body of Christ.
I, like Fitzgerald (and most Nazarenes), did not grow up participating in weekly communion. The argument that its frequent practice would make it less significant always baffled me, especially because I never heard this as a testimony of someone who had actually experienced it as such. Now, through my own personal experiences as a parishioner and as a pastor, my testimony is just the opposite. What I have discovered in the weekly practice of communion is the incredible and ever-increasing significance of this meal for the life of the church.
My first experience of weekly communion was at True Light Church of the Nazarene in Kansas City, Missouri. Truly a light in the darkness of the 31st street area near downtown, this church gathers a congregation of homeless and formerly homeless (“formerly” often a direct result of the ministry of the church) for worship each Sunday. During my seminary years I was a volunteer minister there, and my favorite part of each worship gathering was receiving, and soon serving, the Lord’s Supper.
I think it was my third or fourth Sunday there when Pastor Alice asked me, three minutes before the service began, to administer the sacrament. Never having done this before (despite the fact that I was a second year district-licensed seminary student), I nervously rifled through a Bible, trying to find that passage about “the night our Lord was betrayed…” I think I landed on 1 Corinthians 11 just in time.
This kind of training of young pastors is similar to the method of throwing a child in the water to teach them how to swim, with the added trust that the Holy Spirit would be there to keep me from drowning. In the two years I ministered at True Light, Pastor Alice and the Holy Spirit taught me not only how to administer the Lord’s Supper, but how to delight in it. I developed a hunger for this weekly meal, full of grace, shared with the poor and powerless and other friends in the faith. And on occasions when I traveled home or worshiped elsewhere, this sacrament was dearly missed.
Through my years as a student of ministry and theology I had learned all about John Wesley’s view of the Lord’s Supper as a means of grace, and I found it quite intriguing. I learned the history and the tradition, the different ways the ritual has been interpreted and fought over, the biblical foundations for the role of communion in the practices of the church. All of it was at the same time fascinating and infuriating. There was something about this practice, this sacrament, that we in the church of the Nazarene, at least the churches I had been a part of, seemed to be missing out on.
This sense that there was some deep, meaningful mystery in the Lord’s Supper that I simply couldn’t grasp growing up in a church that took part in the practice just a few times a year was frustrating and disappointing. But as I read and studied, listened and learned, my frustration and disappointment were replaced by hope that this sacrament, central to the Christian church throughout history, still shared and celebrated weekly by so many of our brothers and sisters in the faith, could be recovered in the Church of the Nazarene.
This hope is encouraged greatly by pastors like Fitzgerald who are working to help their own congregations and the church as a whole rediscover the sacrament of Holy Communion as a means of grace, and it is emboldened each week as Nexus Community gathers for worship. Every Sunday the Eucharist is celebrated, the sacrament of Holy Communion is received, and every Sunday the significance grows deeper, and the centrality of this practice to the life and worship of our church grows more apparent.
The children who worship with us, many from the apartment community, have added richly to our experience of the Lord’s Supper as we’ve offered them participation in the meal as a means of grace. Some of our kids, when they first started coming, would ask, “When do we get the bread?” Whether they were actually hungry or just intrigued by the practice I’m still not sure, but I think it was a little bit of both.
There was one Sunday when a few young girls arrived early for church and in their play as we set up they began pretending to serve communion, offering us plastic toys from a tray, “This is the body of Christ.” Another week after the service ended, Nicole, a kindergartener, asked for a piece of leftover bread and proceeded to pass it out to people in the community.
Recently, a few of the children have asked me if they can “hold the cup” during the service as they have seen adults in the community do, giving me an opportunity to talk to them about the importance of the practice and the role of those who serve. These are people who have given their lives to follow Jesus, who have been baptized in his name, preparing them to be people who can offer God’s grace to others. Now we’re beginning to have conversations about who this Jesus is, what his life, death, and resurrection were all about, and what it means to follow him.
As they join us in worship from week to week, these children receive love, kindness, and bread and juice offered to them as the body and blood of Jesus Christ. They are quick to mimic what they see and eager to give to others what they have received, and thus become great examples for the rest of us. If only we were all so eager to participate in the service of the Lord’s Supper, to mimic the hospitality of Jesus, to offer the bread of life to those around us.
Five year old Mercedes found her own way of participating this last Sunday. After receiving the bread and juice, she came back to where I was serving and stood in front of me, just under the bread in my hands. As each person came forward to receive the bread, they were first given a sweet, timid hug, an offering of love from a child learning about the grace of Jesus Christ.
At the end of my first full year as a senior pastor, after journeying with this community from Advent to Pentecost, joining in the mission of God in the neighborhood we were called to, seeking the Kingdom of God together, and all the while receiving bread and cup weekly as a means of grace, I’m just beginning to grasp the full magnitude of the meaning of this holy meal. One of the most exciting discoveries is that receiving this means of grace each Sunday leads us to be people who share the grace of God with others throughout the week.
Just as much as the Lord’s Supper offers grace to us and helps us to remember the great love and sacrifice of our Savior, in receiving it we are commissioned and empowered by the Holy Spirit to bear the grace and love of Jesus in the world, to participate in his Kingdom mission, and even to sacrifice for the sake of others. Each week as our people come forward to receive, they are called and challenged to go and give, to share the love and grace they have been given with others, and to live more fully into the Kingdom and mission of God in the world. Grace each Sunday leads to grace each Monday and each day after that.
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