You are not Alone, this Meal Proves It

You know the feeling. It hangs over you like a weighted blanket. It mutes your interactions with people like you are talking through a pillow. It keeps you from going to dinner with friends, or calling your mom, or getting a beer after work. This feeling allows you to share and share, especially on social media, without ever sharing what really matters. It’s not always easy to see from the outside which means that it goes unnoticed and unquestioned by so many. For many, it still allows you to perform at work, maintain a marriage and not seem “weird.” You might start to date, you might reach out, you might make an extra effort hoping to overcome the feeling. Where does it come from? For some it comes from an event or a choice that you don’t want to think about yourself let alone share with someone else. For others, it’s comes from not wanting to be rejected, cast off… again. For others, it comes from a youth spent struggling to make connections. A struggle that continues on through adult hood.

You know the feeling. It hangs over you like a weighted blanket. It mutes your interactions with people like you are talking through a pillow. It keeps you from going to dinner with friends, or calling your mom, or getting a beer after work. This feeling allows you to share and share, especially on social media, without ever sharing what really matters. It’s not always easy to see from the outside which means that it goes unnoticed and unquestioned by so many. For many, it still allows you to perform at work, maintain a marriage and not seem “weird.” You might start to date, you might reach out, you might make an extra effort hoping to overcome the feeling. Where does it come from? For some it comes from an event or a choice that you don’t want to think about yourself let alone share with someone else. For others, it’s comes from not wanting to be rejected, cast off… again. For others, it comes from a youth spent struggling to make connections. A struggle that continues on through adult hood.

And for many of us, that find root in sin. The isolation that comes from this voice that tells you that you are the only one. That no one else will understand. And maybe it’s not our sin, exactly, but we feel the guilt of it. The guilt of a family member addicted, one that we can’t help, the guilt of a theft of innocence, or a rape, or a disappointment, or an unanswered prayer, or life-long pain and suffering. We try to overcome the feeling by ignoring that thing, like it isn’t part of our past. We try to medicate through a doctor’s prescription or a self-induced, off the shelf medicine. We try to solve it through technology. Did you know that there is a social media app that allows you to post anonymously. Where you can tell the thing that most rends you from humanity with sharing your name? All of that, it’s loneliness. You know the feeling.

So did Jesus. Man, when you read through the account like we just did, that loneliness jumps off the page. It starts with the preparations for the meal itself. Jesus would spend it in Jerusalem with his disciples. This was originally designed to be a feast celebrated among the family. A lamb raised as part of the family with parents and children playing very specific roles in remembering the first passover as the the people if Israel prepared to leave Egypt. But Jesus? Spending with close friends and his students, but not his family. Which is great, but not the same.

Then Jesus offered to wash his disciples feet. An act of singular humility and service. Again, Jesus alone. Then the dinner. Jesus identified that one would betray him. Instead of defending Jesus, each defending themselves, “Surely not I, Lord!” And then at the end of the dinner, Peter saying that he would stick with Jesus, even if all others would abandon him. Jesus knowing the reality that not even Peter would stick with him, all would abandon him. And you mix into all of that Jesus’ awareness of what the next 24 hours would bring. Unparalleled suffering, not at the hands of the Romans or the Jews, but as his Father in heaven brought to bear his wrath over sin on his one and only Son. (Full of Eyes Image) He could not, would not, burden his disciples with an event, a choice that was not theirs to bear. We sit there at the table in the upper room with the disciples and watch a Savior, alone and isolated: soon even from his Father in heaven.

But, what Jesus does in his loneliness is so different, so remarkable, so unique, such a blessing. His loneliness he reaches out to those who are alone so that they would never feel like he did. He reaches out by giving himself to his followers, literally, to his disciples: one of whom would soon run away from the crowds to weep in despondency over sin by himself. He gives his body and blood, his very self. Creating a unity unparalleled anywhere else in the world. Paul tells us about that unity in .

1 Corinthians 10:16–17 NIV

16 Is not the cup of thanksgiving for which we give thanks a participation in the blood of Christ? And is not the bread that we break a participation in the body of Christ? 17 Because there is one loaf, we, who are many, are one body, for we all share the one loaf.

There are two words in here that I’d like to focus on, the first is, “participation.” That word gets translated several different ways. But at the root of it, is this idea fellowship, of uniting. Of bring things together in a way keeps each distinct. This word does not apply to mixing blue and yellow paint to get green. But it’s also not the kind of putting together that things can then get taken apart. It’s not the fellowship of the ring that works together as long as it can, but breaks apart when it needs to. This word also doesn’t apply to a bringing together such that the one thing is lost in the other, as if they aren’t distinct. It’s not salt poured into water that can never be extracted so long as the water is still present. The Bible uses this word to describe our relationship between the Spirit and the Jesus-follower (). Distinct but united. It describes the relationship we have with other believers as we share in the hope, the goal and the purpose of our faith. () This word shows up in to indicate that these things are brought so close together that they are inseparable, and yet each remains distinct, not lost in the other.

Philippians 2:1 NIV

1 Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion,

1 John 1:3 NIV

3 We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard, so that you also may have fellowship with us. And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ.

1 John 1:3 NIV

3 We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard, so that you also may have fellowship with us. And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ.

Philippians 2:1 NIV

1 Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion,

1 Corinthians 10:16 NIV

16 Is not the cup of thanksgiving for which we give thanks a participation in the blood of Christ? And is not the bread that we break a participation in the body of Christ?

But, notice what gets united. The bread and Jesus body, the wine and Jesus blood. This is the primary “communion” the unity upon which everything else is built. If this bread that Jesus broke is not also his body, then we are still left to only a memory and have no antidote against the loneliness. If this wine that Jesus blessed is not also his blood, a cup to catch the drips from the cross, then we have no unity with the one who faced the ultimate loneliness and we have no part in his sacrifice. These four things are united here. Not in a physical way, but spiritual and very real. That’s what makes this meal unique, that’s what makes it powerful. That’s what makes this a meal a meal for those who feel alone, isolated and cut off. It is the life preserver thrown to the one drowning in the waves of a turbulent sea.

That’s the first word: participation. Here’s the second: “sharing.” See, because Jesus has not left the bread and wine alone, but has united his body and blood to them, we become united as we take it together! None of us is left alone. We have sisters and brothers who live under the same dissipated threat of sin. We came out of the same curse of death and live now under the same promise of eternity. We are united as nothing else can unite. It brings us together and puts us on each other’s team. And what happens when we are united the way Jesus designed us to be united through this communion? We share each other’s burdens. We open up, maybe not to everybody, maybe not even to more than one. But you have around a roomful of people who long to get into the trenches with you and hear about all the things that have kept you isolated. A room full of people who care more about your unity with our Savior than their own pride, comfort, or convenience. Together, we share the promises of God with each other. I get to remind you that you are not alone. That you matter and are deeply loved to our Father in heaven, to me. And I matter and am loved by you.

As we are united in this meal, we find room to live out all those “one another” verses in the Bible. Those commands we hear from Jesus, from God on how we should interact. This meal makes room for them. And we close the door to the nagging accuser in each of our hearts that tries to convince us that we are alone. This meal closes down that space with the unequivocal, individual pronouncement of forgiveness. This blood that poured from his head, his hands, his feet, it poured for you, to cover you. This body that hung limp on the cross, having breathed its last is given for your new life. This meal bring that Savior who hasn’t stepped foot on the earth for 2000 years, right into this space. This meal brings that sacrifice for all sins, to you, making it his sacrifice for your sins.

You are not alone. God has not abandoned you. This meal proves it. This is communion. A unity specifically designed for those who feel alone from someone who walked the loneliest road. Take and eat. Take and drink. Let’s share in that participation.