The Lord Supper

The Church’s Sacraments

The sacraments are visible signs and rites whereby God commends his grace within the church.

The sacraments of the church have been a significant point of controversy in the history of Christian thought. Although the word “sacrament” does not appear in the Bible, later western Christian theologians used the term to denote rites God gave to the church as a means of commending his grace.

In the Old Testament era, God commanded certain rites to the children of Israel to proclaim his gracious covenantal purpose to them. These rites begin with God’s command to Abraham to circumcise himself and his household in Genesis 17. This sign is connected to the promise that Abraham’s seed will bless Israel and the nations. Likewise, other rites were added by God as Israel’s history progressed. The first of these was the Passover meal, which served as a sign, first, of the present redemption of YHWH in the exodus, and later to commend the continuing faithfulness of the Lord to future generations. Likewise, in response to Israel’s breaking of the Sinaitic covenant, God instituted the tabernacle service. The sacrifices and rites of the tabernacle commended God’s forgiveness of sins and gave Israel a share in God’s holiness.

In the New Testament era, the number of rites given by God to the church was reduced to two: baptism and the Lord’s Supper. Baptism is introduced in the Gospels through the ministry of John the Baptist. It represents a ritual repentance and the cleansing of sin in preparation for the great and terrible day of the Lord, which John preached. Baptism possesses a precedent in the Old Testament: water was used in various ritual cleansings in the rites of the Levitical cult, and Ezekiel spoke of Israel’s eschatological cleansing with water by YHWH. According to the New Testament, after Jesus was resurrected he commanded the apostles to baptize all nations in the Triune name of God. In Romans 6, the apostle Paul speaks of baptism as a mystical unification with Christ’s death and resurrection.

The second rite introduced by the New Testament is the Lord’s Supper. Throughout his ministry Jesus had common meals with (repentant) sinners. By eating with sinners, he showed his forgiveness of them as well as his personal fellowship and solidarity with them. Similarly, in multiple parables, Jesus also spoke of the coming kingdom of God as a wedding feast. On the night of his betrayal in the midst of the Passover meal, Jesus gave his disciples bread and wine and spoke of them as his body and blood. The connection with the Passover meal suggests that Jesus’ own coming death would be a substitutionary sacrifice, much like the lamb in the Passover.

In the subsequent history of Christian thought there have been a number of ways of interpreting the New Testament texts regarding the nature of the sacraments. In the early Greek-speaking church, the term used for sacrament was “mystery” (mystērion), which simply meant the sign of a sacred mystery of the faith. Later, this term was translated into Latin by Christian theologians as sacramentum, a term that originally meant a pledge made by a Roman soldier to be loyal in his post.

Among the early Christian theologians, Augustine contributed the most to a technical definition of the sacraments. He argued that sacraments consist in a sign (signum) and the reality (res) that the sign points to. For Augustine, the sign should not be confused with the reality of divine grace itself. Each sacrament possesses a visible sign and a word that explained the nature of divine grace received through it.

Although Augustine did not give a specific number of sacraments, Peter Lombard and the Fourth Lateran Council (1215) set the number at seven: baptism, confirmation, the Lord’s Supper, penance, marriage, ordination to the priesthood, and last rites. The rationale for Lombard’s expansion of the number of the sacraments to seven was that he identified sacraments not only with visible signs but also with rites. For the medieval church and much of the patristic tradition, the sacraments did not merely point to the reality of grace but were actual vehicles of grace itself.

The medieval view of the sacraments was significantly challenged by the Reformers of the sixteenth century. Protestants generally agreed (with a few exceptions) that there were only two sacraments, baptism and the Lord’s Supper. The other rites of the medieval church were not divinely authorized or were not genuine signs of grace. In spite of this consensus on the number of sacraments, there were nevertheless significant differences between the Reformers as to how to interpret the sacraments. Ulrich Zwingli and the Anabaptists saw sacraments as mere symbols publicly confirming church membership. By contrast, Martin Luther and the Lutheran church affirmed that the sacraments were genuine vehicles of grace that awaken and feed faith. Calvin and much of the later Reformed tradition took a middle view, where sacraments function as genuine signs of grace for the elect. This being said, the signs of bread, wine, and water do not contain grace within themselves.

Modern theology occasionally has proposed alternatives to these formulations. Nevertheless, few have found alternatives to these possibilities, and the nature of the sacraments have remained a point of contention in contemporary ecumenical discussions.

Passages

KEY VERSES

Ge 17:10–14; Mt 26:26–28; Ac 2:38; Ro 6:3–7; 1 Co 11:23–26; Col 2:11–12; 1 Pe 3:21

Recommended Resources

Reformed Dogmatics (Bavinck), Vol. IV, 461–495.

Systematic Theology (Berkhof), 616–622.

Systematic Theology (Hodge), Vol. III, 490–525.

The Christian Faith (Horton), 751–788.

Christian Dogmatics (Pieper), Vol. III, 104–108.

The Lord’s Supper

The Lord’s Supper, also known as the Eucharist (Matt 26:27; Luke 22:17–19; Acts 27:35; 1 Cor 10:30; 11:24) or Holy Communion (1 Cor 10:16) is the sacrament of the body and blood of Christ, or the sacrament of communion with Christ and participation in his risen and ascended sacrifice.

The institution narratives of the Lord’s Supper portray the event as a Passover meal. Luke’s Gospel is particularly clear about this point, as Christ underscores to the disciples at the beginning of the meal: “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer” (22:15). The text further notes that the preparations happened at the beginning of the Festival of Unleavened Bread “on which the Passover lamb had to be sacrificed” (22:7).

The Passover is the celebration of the deliverance of the Israelites from death and from slavery in Egypt. The Israelites were commanded to slaughter a lamb and apply its blood to their doorposts so that they would be delivered from the judgment rendered by the angel of death. This deliverance also marked the beginning of the exodus from Egypt, and these twin meanings constituted the core of Israelite identity. They are to commemorate it every year, at the inception of the Festival of Unleavened Bread, when the Israelites were to rid their homes of yeast for seven days: “For the generations to come you shall celebrate it as a festival to the Lord—a lasting ordinance” (Exod 12:14 NIV).

Christ intends his disciples to understand that his sacrifice, his body and blood offered upon the cross, is simultaneously a recapitulation and summation of the depth of meaning of the Passover meal, and a deliverance from a deeper slavery shared not just by Israel but by all of humanity to the powers of sin and death (Rom 6:1–14). His suffering on the cross is the cataclysmic confrontation with these powers, and his resurrection is his triumph and vindication over them. When Christ ascends into heaven, Paul describes it as a victory march by a conquering general, a general who leads not defeated nations but captivity itself captive (Eph 4:8).

When Christ leads slavery to fear and death captive in the victory of his ascension (Heb 2:14–15), Paul also says he “gave gifts to men” (Eph 4:8). This gift giving is central to the New Testament theology of the Eucharist. The Greek word from which it derives means “to give thanks,” understanding the sacrifice of Christ as the cosmos-altering gift of the Triune God given to rescue humanity from wicked powers. Paul’s understanding of this meal as a communion, fellowship, or participation with the risen and ascended Christ is the corollary to the gift character of this meal.

In this meal, Christ feeds us with his own presence and sacrifice, which is why he is described as “Christ our Passover Lamb” (1 Cor 5:7). Although the bread and the wine of the Passover meal is mentioned in the institution narrative, the lamb is not. The book of Hebrews develops this point in order to highlight the priesthood of Jesus. He possesses a priesthood more perfect than the Levitical priesthood. He has a priesthood with no beginning or end, the priesthood of Melchizedek, the priest-king of Salem who brought out gifts of bread and wine and blessed Abraham and to whom Abraham gave a tithe of a tenth of all his possessions (Heb 7; Gen 14:18–20). The institution narratives, read in the overarching context of the New Testament, suggest that Christ is both priest and sacrifice, offering the sacrifice of himself (Ps 50:14–15; Heb 13:15). One image used to understand the Eucharist in the New Testament, then, is the continual making present of the Passover and sacrifice of Christ to his people.

This sacrifice does not only remove the guilt of sin but also liberates the church from its power. In the christological debates of the fourth century, this dimension of Christ’s sacrifice was a critical rationale adduced for the affirmation of Christ’s divinity and for the profession of the hypostatic union between the divine and human natures of Christ. The union between these natures had to be not only moral or volitional but ontological, because through the Eucharist he makes us “partakers of the divine nature” (2 Pet 1:4), which he could not do if he were not simultaneously both God and human. The Eucharist was food which enabled the people of God to become what they professed to be. “Be what you see; receive what you are,” proclaimed Augustine of Hippo in a sermon on the Eucharist.

Another central image for the Eucharist in the New Testament is the idea of the Eucharist as food for the difficult and perilous journey that we must make in this life. Typological reflection upon the institution of the Passover meal draws this dimension out. The Israelites were to eat the meal “with your cloak tucked into your belt, your sandals on your feet and your staff in your hand. Eat it in haste; it is the Lord’s Passover” (Exod 12:11 NIV), for they were to begin the journey from Egypt to the promised land immediately upon eating this meal.

Several images in Scripture extend this sense of the Eucharist, most importantly the image of the Eucharist as spiritual manna. The Israelites were given the “bread of angels” (Ps 78:25 NIV) to eat in the wilderness on their journey: the manna and the quail were their food for the journey. Christ says in John 6 that he is “the bread that came down from heaven” and the “bread of life.” This “bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world” (6:48, 51 NIV).

A third image for the Eucharist in the New Testament narratives is the sense of this meal as a foretaste of the eschatological banquet (Isa 25:6–8; Matt 26:29; Mark 14:25; Luke 22:16, 18; Luke 14:12–14; 1 Cor 11:26; Rev 19:6–9; John 14). This point accentuates not only the nourishment of this meal but the lavishness of the gift. In this foretaste of the heavenly banquet, as the Anglican Kenyan Eucharistic liturgy says, “Christ is the host, and we are his guests.”

The term “Lord’s Supper” highlights this crucial image of the Lord as our host. He not only serves us the lavish spiritual food by communing with us with his own presence (1 Cor 10:16–17), he humbles himself to cleanse us in body and soul as we approach this feast (John 13:1–17). In a number of Reformation-era churches, the desire to highlight the banquet character of this meal led to dramatic changes in the symbolism and organization of the meal. In many churches, stone altars on the eastern end of the church were removed and tables with four visible legs were placed among the people, and the Lord’s Supper was celebrated with communicants sitting down at the table.

Because the Lord himself communes with us in this bread and wine, we too are to commune with one another (Acts 2:42–46; 1 Cor 10:17; 11:17–34). There is therefore a deep irony in the fact that the symbol of the church’s communion with God and of the members with each other has become a major source of division within Christendom. Churches have been rent over whether the bread and wine are transformed into the body and blood of Christ, or whether the Eucharist is an “unbloody sacrifice,” or whether it is a pure memorial of Christ’s once-for-all sacrifice upon the cross.

Both Paul and John seem to have “realistic” understandings of the Eucharist, but the imagistic quality of what happens in the Eucharist means that certainty cannot be had about the mode of Christ’s presence in it. The Anglican Lancelot Andrewes offers a characteristically judicious statement on the meal: “Christ said, ‘this is my body.’ He did not say, ‘this is my body in this way.’“

Passages

KEY VERSES

• Mk 14:12–26

• Mt 26:17–30

• Lk 17:7–23

• Jn 6:22–59

• 1 Co 10–11

Recommended Resources

The Beauty of the Eucharist: Voices from the Church Fathers (Billy).

Early Christian Worship (Cullmann).

Worship: Reformed according to Scripture (Old).

Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist: Unlocking the Secrets of the Last Supper (Pitre).

Making a Meal of It: Rethinking the Theology of the Lord’s Supper (Witherington).

“The New Covenant in My Blood”

In the case of the Supper, we have dominical confirmation of its covenantal nature. In particular, Jesus records the cup as being “the new covenant.” There are nuanced differences in the way this is recorded in the Synoptic Gospels and Paul’s Corinthian correspondence, warranting a closer examination:

And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you, for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. I tell you I will not drink again of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.” (Matt. 26:27–29)

And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, and they all drank of it. And he said to them, “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many. Truly, I say to you, I will not drink again of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.” (Mark 14:23–25)

And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” And likewise the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.” (Luke 22:19–20)16

In the same way also he took the cup, 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. (1 Cor. 11:25–26)

Several issues are worth noting in relation to these three “cup words.”17 In the Mat- thew text, the phrase “this is my blood of the covenant” (τὸ αἷμά μου τῆς διαθήκης, Matt. 26:28) recalls the inauguration of the Mosaic covenant in the Septuagint trans- lation of Exodus 24:8 (τὸ αἷμα τῆς διαθήκης). In what amounted to a covenant- ratification ceremony, Moses read from the covenant in the presence of the people and sprinkled the blood of slaughtered beasts on them, declaring it to be “the blood of the covenant.” The only difference between the Exodus and Matthew texts is the addition of the possessive pronoun “my” in Matthew. Jesus understood his own blood as having covenant-ratification significance. Since the Mosaic covenant is the only occasion that involves sprinkling of blood on the people present, Jesus’s identification with it is all the more significant. It is not with just any covenant that he associates but with the Mosaic covenant and its law. The law keeper is taking the punishment of the lawless.

It is only in Matthew’s account (26:28) that we find the extra words “for the forgiveness of sins” (εἰς ἄφεσιν ἁμαρτιῶν), and this seems to echo the prophetic word announcing the new covenant in Jeremiah 31:34, “For I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more.” Again, the connection with covenant is uppermost.

Both Matthew and Mark employ the formula “poured out for many” (τὸ περὶ πολλῶν ἐκχυννόμενον, Matt. 26:28; τὸ ἐκχυννόμενον ὑπὲρ πολλῶν, Mark 14:24), reminiscent of the fourth Servant Song in Isaiah 53:12:

Therefore I will divide him a portion with the many, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong,

because he poured out his soul to death

and was numbered with the transgressors;

yet he bore the sin of many,

and makes intercession for the transgressors.

The pouring out (ἐκχυννόμενον) suggests a separation of flesh and blood and is the language of sacrifice.

In place of “for many” (Matthew and Mark), Luke has the more personal “for you” (τὸ ὑπὲρ ὑμῶν ἐκχυννόμενον). This point seems to underline the vicarious, substitu- tionary aspect of Christ’s bloodshedding. He bears the covenant curse of death so that we might have eternal life.

Luke specifically identifies the cup with the “new covenant,” as does Paul in the Co- rinthian correspondence. There is no need to see a tension between Matthew-Mark and Luke-Paul. The original Supper discourse may well have been longer, and each writer is recalling a part of it. Since Jesus spoke these words in Aramaic, and given the decades of oral transmission to which they were subjected, it is not surprising in the least that nuanced emphases are made by one tradition and not another. Significantly, all four sources allude to Jeremiah 31. Paul’s Corinthian correspondence mimics Luke’s account. If we take the use of “we” in Acts 16:11 as a reference to Luke joining Paul as they set sail from Troas, we have every reason to think that Luke had experienced the Corinthian church plant and discussed the Supper with Paul.21

By way of conclusion, the Supper takes place at Passover, and Jesus identifies himself with the Passover lamb. In Joachim Jeremias’s words, “He is the eschatological Passover lamb representing the fulfilment of that which the Egyptian Passover lamb and all the subsequent sacrificial lambs were the prototype.”22 And even more specifically, Jeremias underlines the covenantal aspect of Jesus’s death: “Jesus describes his death as this escha- tological Passover sacrifice. His vicarious huper, vicarious death, brings into operation the final deliverance, the New Covenant of God.”23

The Supper underlines a deep undercurrent of covenantal consciousness on the part of Jesus. He viewed his Messiahship as the fulfillment of the projected trajec- tory of covenantal allusions in the Old Testament. Jesus is Israel’s God, just as Israel (the church) is his. He came to inaugurate and ratify the new covenant, prophesied by Jeremiah and elaborated on in 2 Corinthians 3:5–18 and more fully in Hebrews 8:1–10:18. The new covenant is, in effect, an upgrade, ending the need for continual sacrifices by the once-for-all sacrifice of Christ (ἅπαξ, ἐφάπαξ, Heb. 7:27; 9:12, 26) and aiding in the motivational and behavioral aspect of holiness by the promise of the Holy Spirit, the representative agent of the risen and ascended Jesus.

Bilateral Covenant

The sacraments are signs and seals of the covenant of grace—the grace that necessitates its unilateral nature. The question therefore arises whether the covenant of grace is to be viewed entirely unilaterally. And again, Reformed theology has given nuanced and careful attention to the way that the covenant of grace is to be viewed as unilaterally established but bilaterally administered. All covenants, by definition, involve two parties. But in the case of the covenant of grace—God’s purposeful, inviolable intention to save the elect—Scripture gives no hint that it is a contract in which two parties have come to a mutual agreement. The covenant of grace is unilateral in the establishment of its terms and conditions. It is sovereignly initiated, its terms carefully and meticulously set out by a sovereign God. The plan is entirely the Lord’s.24 And in this sense (and in this sense only), the covenant of grace is unconditional.

But as Sinclair Ferguson observes, “This unconditional covenant operates in a care- fully conditioned fashion since its grace carries in its wake obligations for the covenanted party.” In that sense, there is no such thing as an entirely unconditional covenant. A covenant has obligations and duties, involving expected (commanded!) trajectories of responsive behavior. Faith and repentance are covenantal requirements. There can be no salvation without faith or repentance. The demands of progressive sanctification are not unilaterally fulfilled. They are conditions: “Strive for peace with everyone, and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord” (Heb. 12:14). No observable holiness on the part of those who profess faith implies no assured salvation.

The dynamic of necessary, observable holiness as a mark of true faith is basic to the New Testament’s understanding of the way salvation operates. Take, for example, the warnings against apostasy:

And Jesus answered them, “See that no one leads you astray. For many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am the Christ,’ and they will lead many astray. . . .

“And then many will fall away and betray one another and hate one another. And many false prophets will arise and lead many astray. And because lawlessness will be increased, the love of many will grow cold. But the one who endures to the end will be saved.” (Matt. 24:4–5, 10–13)

Now these things happened to them as an example, but they were written down for our instruction, on whom the end of the ages has come. Therefore let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall. (1 Cor. 10:11–12)

Therefore we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it. (Heb. 2:1)

Take care, brothers, lest there be in any of you an evil, unbelieving heart, leading you to fall away from the living God. But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called “today,” that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin. (Heb. 3:12–13)

Similar statements in the New Testament imply some conditionality on the assured status of our salvation in Christ:

He has now reconciled [you] in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him, if indeed you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel that you heard, which has been proclaimed in all creation under heaven, and of which I, Paul, became a minister. (Col. 1:22–23)

If we endure, we will also reign with him;

if we deny him, he also will deny us. (2 Tim. 2:12)

For we have come to share in Christ, if indeed we hold our original confidence firm to the end. (Heb. 3:14)

Unworthy Communion

The issue of unworthy participation at the Supper (manducatio indignorum) has seem- ingly been a troublesome one. It arises from a consideration of the need to “examine oneself” before participating at the Table, together with the prior warning: “Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty concerning the body and blood of the Lord” (1 Cor. 11:27). What precisely does eating and drinking “in an unworthy manner” mean? The fact that the Corinthian context in all likelihood bears virtually no resemblance to any celebration of the Supper we may have witnessed seems to have eluded the historical debate. What the church—more especially, the Reformed church—concluded from the toxic atmosphere of Corinth was the need to “fence the Table,” insisting on weeks of preparatory repentance, with the additional provision of dire threats of judgment in the case of noncompliance. This, sadly, has made an occasion of joy and celebration into one of fear and foreboding and, in its worst forms, an occasion that has turned the gospel on its head. For in every sense, no one is “worthy” of communing with Jesus. And that is the whole point of the Table. It is a sign and seal of grace to sinners.

The story is often told, and worth repeating here, of Dr. John “Rabbi” Duncan, the Scottish theologian and minister who once noticed a young lady in his Highland congregation so gripped by guilt over her sin that she hesitated to take the Lord’s Sup- per. The minister’s counsel to her is worth remembering every time we come to the Lord’s Table: “Take it, Lass. It’s meant for sinners.” The gospel shape of Communion ensures assurance, whereas the emphasis on achieving a “worthiness” always ends in misery and death.

The Supper as Remembrance

The phrase “in remembrance of me” has been the cause of innumerable controversies as to the meaning of the Lord’s Supper. On the one hand, strict memorialists have seen it as justification to view the Supper as solely a ritual of “remembering”—as a photograph might help us recall a person long since deceased. That this is—in part, at least—the intention can be denied only at the expense of avoiding the surface meaning of the verb “to remember” and the covenantal command “to remember” (or the negative, “do not forget”) that infuses the narrative of redemptive history (Deut. 9:7; 24:22; Josh. 1:13; etc.). Such an interpretation seems rather silly. Communicants should indeed try and remember what Jesus said and did by deliberately calling to mind the memory of the event as recorded in Scripture. Such purposeful contemplation should lead to joyful praise and worship and a renewal of vows made to deny oneself and follow Jesus wher- ever he calls us to go.

On the other hand, strict realists, who may speak of the “real presence” of Jesus in the Supper are also missing the point. “This is my body,” “This is my blood”—these words, too, have been the cause of quite unnecessary dispute. The Latin hoc est corpus meum suggested to the Reformers some mischievous hocus-pocus, something akin to a wizard’s trick and a Roman Catholic transubstantiation of the bread and wine (though nuanced in clerical thought, if not by the laity, with Aristotelian metaphysical distinc- tions between “forms” and “accidents”), and therefore, the Reformers flatly rejected it. But others, claiming at times to be defenders of John Calvin, have loosely spoken of the “real presence” of Christ in the Supper (a phrase that Calvin did not use and would not have used). A moment’s reflection on the fact that when Jesus first used the words, he was either standing or sitting there in front of them. His physical presence could hardly be there in the upper room and “in” the bread and wine at the same time. The “is” must mean “represents” or “symbolizes.”29 In this way, we “look back” during the Supper, to a point in time, a historical event and a geographical location where the drama of redemp- tion was played out before the eyes of humanity.

The physical body of Jesus can occupy only one point of the space-time universe. If it contains a shred of ubiquity, it is no longer a human body, and Jesus is no longer our representative. It is not, therefore, out of accord to ask at the celebration of the Supper, “Where is the body of Jesus?” or more specifically, “Where is the body that, by baptism, I have been baptized into—into his death and resurrection?” (Rom. 6:1–4). The answer has to be, “In heaven.” And if we ask further where that might be, we can surmise that it is “somewhere” in the created universe—“up there,” “at the right hand of God,” “in a fold in space”—somewhere that isn’t here. The resurrection of Jesus is meant to be viewed as a prototype of our own resurrection (“firstfruits,” 1 Cor. 15:20), and at the Supper, the trajectory of thought is upward rather than downward. We should think of Jesus’s body and remind ourselves that we, too, will share a resurrected body in the new heavens and new earth when Jesus will drink the cup of celebration portrayed in the marriage supper that closes the Bible (Rev. 19:6–9).

The Supper word in Paul contains both a “now” and a “not yet” act of remembrance. By looking “up,” we remember that we have a Savior who helps us in our current infirmi- ties and provides us with his agent, the Holy Spirit, to aid us in the pilgrimage and fight. This is what Calvin so marvelously taught about what the Supper truly represents— spiritual/Spiritual communion with the ascended Christ by the help of the Holy Spirit.30 That communion is here and now. But there is also a “not yet” aspect—“until he comes” (1 Cor. 11:26). There is a “looking ahead,” an anticipation of glory and what will be in the new heavens and new earth. At the Supper, we should tell Jesus how much we are looking forward to seeing him “face to face” (1 Cor. 13:12).

It is in this way that the Supper serves as a conduit in which the grace of the gospel is experienced afresh. The frequency of the Supper has been a matter of much dispute, and simply placing it in the morning Sunday service may not fully meet all that is necessary for Christian growth and nurture. Mention is often made of Calvin’s unfulfilled desire for a weekly Lord’s Supper (an impossibility given the strict supervision he demanded of who may or may not participate). Given the fact that Geneva had two Sunday services and alternated every other week between daily lunchtime expositions Monday through Friday and a Wednesday noon service, it has to be remembered that the ratio of sermons to Supper was in the order of ten to one. If having a weekly Lord’s Supper in a church that has only one service a week also reduces the length of the sermon, the balance of Word and sacrament seems askew. That said, the “visible word” of the sacraments has an important function in Chris- tian growth and nurture. The Heidelberg Catechism 75 underlines the manner in which the Supper serves as a tool of assurance:

Q. How does the Lord’s Supper signify and seal to you that you share in Christ’s one sacrifice on the cross and in all His gifts?

A. In this way: Christ has commanded me and all believers to eat of this broken bread and drink of this cup in remembrance of Him. With this command He gave these promises: First, as surely as I see with my eyes the bread of the Lord broken for me and the cup given to me, so surely was His body offered for me and His blood poured out for me on the cross. Second, as surely as I receive from the hand of the minister and taste with my mouth the bread and the cup of the Lord as sure signs of Christ’s body and blood, so surely does He Himself nourish and refresh my soul to everlasting life with His crucified body and shed blood.

“As surely as I see with my eyes” is a way of saying, “Seeing is believing—in other words, that contemplating and actually consuming the sign confirms confidence that one is sharing in the thing signified.”31

The Supper as Koinonia

From one point of view, it is surprising that the Supper is mentioned only once in Paul’s correspondence. That in itself should make us cautious about overemphasizing it. And furthermore, when mention is made of the Supper, it is in the context of an appalling mishandling of the sacrament. The Corinthians’ loveless treatment of each other at the Supper (of all occasions to demonstrate selfishness!) drew from Paul some of his most vehement words of rebuke and warning. But it also occasioned one of the most pointed insights into the meaning of the Supper:

The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread. (1 Cor. 10:16–17)

The Supper implies a “participation” in all that Christ is and represents. The Greek word is κοινωνία. The Supper—Communion, as many Christians rightly refer to it—is a meal in which we “commune” with Jesus, and he with us. Literally, we “share in common with” Jesus our body-soul existence. And as we eat and drink this covenant meal, we are strengthened and nourished by the recollection that we are “one body”—one with Christ and one with one another as his church (1 Cor. 6:17).32 In the Supper we are drawn by the Holy Spirit to fellowship with Christ, and thereby we are assured of our privileges and blessings in the gospel. Here, in communion with Jesus, is the end of all doubt. Here, by the Holy Spirit’s energy (Lat. virtus), we are in the safest place and condition of all.33

It is the covenant—the covenant of grace—that ensures this assurance. The sacra- ments, in the language of the Westminster Confession, “confirm our interest in Christ” (27.1) Augustus Toplady expresses this belief with great conviction:

A debtor to mercy alone,

Of covenant mercy I sing;

Nor fear, with Thy righteousness on, My person and offering to bring. The terrors of law and of God

With me can have nothing to do; My Savior’s obedience and blood Hide all my transgressions from view.

The work which His goodness began, The arm of His strength will complete; His promise is yea and amen,

And never was forfeited yet.

Things future, nor things that are now, Not all things below nor above

Can make Him His purpose forego, Or sever my soul from His love.34

Augustus Toplady (1740–1778), “A Debtor to Mercy Alone,” 1771.

COMMUNION LITURGY

(Lord’s Supper 4th December 2022)

Communion Prayer and Confession

Heavenly Father, as we now celebrate this meal that you have prepared for us (a heavenly meal that reminds us of earthly realities), this bread and this cup are tangible and visible reminders of our sin and also of the supreme sacrifice of your Son (his body broken and his blood shed for us and for our salvation). So, Lord, as we meditate on the realities of our sin and your salvation, we ask for your help in fully confessing our sins in the silence as we prepare to solemnly partake of the body and blood of your Son.

Silence

Amen.

Invitation

This morning, through our celebration of the Lord’s Supper, we proclaim the death of Christ. These elements, which represent the body and blood of Christ, are a visible sermon to us; they are the gospel in tangible form. They proclaim to us the great drama of redemption in Christ: salvation in the present (“ for as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup”), salvation in the past (“ you proclaim the Lord’s death”), and salvation in the future (“ until he comes [again],” 1 Cor. 11: 26). It is our privilege to partake of this visible sermon.

Fencing

In the light of such a salvation, the apostle Paul warns us, “Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty concerning the body and blood of the Lord” (1 Cor. 11: 27). Before we partake of the Supper, let us examine ourselves, recognizing both the gravity of our sin and the weight of Christ’s glorious sacrifice.

Institution

“For I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, ‘This is my body which is for you. Do this is remembrance of me.’ In the same way also he took the cup, after supper, saying, ‘This 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” (1 Cor. 11: 23– 26).

Prayer for the Bread

Lord Jesus, you said, “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh” (John 6: 51). Shocking words, prophetic of the cross. Now, as we eat this bread, help our souls to ride the symbol to the deepest reality. You bore our sins in your body, you became sin for us, you suffered death in your body, and you were resurrected in your body. Bread of heaven, we feast in remembrance of your body given for us. Amen.

Partaking of the Bread

The body of our Lord Jesus Christ, which is given for you, preserve your body and soul to everlasting life. Take and eat this in remembrance that Christ died for you, and feed on him in your heart by faith with thanksgiving. Silence

Distribution

Elders rise, receive the bread, and serve the congregation.

Prayer for the Cup

Our dear Lord, as we prepare to drink the cup, we affirm with all our hearts: This is all my hope and peace, nothing but the blood of Jesus; This is all my righteousness, Nothing but the blood of Jesus. Amen

Partaking of the Cup

The blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, which was shed for you, preserve your body and soul to everlasting life. Drink this in remembrance that Christ’s blood was shed for you and be thankful.

Distribution

Elders rise, receive the cup, and serve the congregation.

Final Hymn

Benediction

The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you; the LORD lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace. (Num. 6: 24– 26)