Loaves and Fishes - and So Much More

It has been a rather eventful week for me at Seneca Presbyterian Church, but not in the usual sense of that word. This fourth week in the season of Lent proceeded rather smoothly. I enjoyed a relatively good balance between study, meetings, pastoral visits, and worship. Our Session gathered for a productive meeting on Monday evening. The greater community of Seneca gathered for worship on Wednesday noon at the home of our Episcopalian brothers and sisters. We saw one member return home from the hospital and another finally made it home after two months of hospitalizations and rehabilitation.

                In the midst of all that normalcy, Wednesday evening offered me two insightful and exciting encounters with faithful friends from our church family. The first was a meeting of worship leaders from our early service – both liturgists and members of the band. The ostensible reason was to reflect upon those worship experiences, tweak anything that needed tweaking, and contemplate the path ahead of us. Right now, that path is focused on our upcoming experiment with the weekly celebration of the sacrament of Holy Communion, an experiment that begins with the Sunday after Easter and will continue through the Sunday after Pentecost, namely Trinity Sunday.

                I shared with those gathered around the table the concerns that have already been expressed about “the experiment”: how observing Communion too frequently can make it seem rote and routine. Those around the table were genuinely surprised. Several come from traditions of weekly observance. They found it hard to believe that such observance could ever become routine. As our conversation progressed, we began to talk of ways we could deepen the experience of Communion for those who worship with us. We talked about adding song – and adding words – opportunities for active participation in the congregational work of worship.

As we talked, I became increasingly aware of how the limited words – and liturgy – that have surrounded my experience of Communion (in both Baptist and Presbyterian traditions) have truncated the sacrament and shortchanged worship.

Just after this meeting, the fellow seekers who gather weekly around the text for the upcoming Sunday convened. As we contemplated the feeding of the multitudes as told in the Gospel of John, the conversation continued. We talked of how we associate Communion with the Lord’s Supper – which inevitably becomes the LAST Supper, which inevitably becomes an experience of somber death and costly sacrifice. Of course, it is. But that is not all that it is. But when we make that all that it is, we rob ourselves of the joy that it also is, and shall be when all the nations of the world will gather around the feast table where Christ himself will be host.

So after this eventful week, I will never approach presiding at our Communion table in quite the same way. I’m not quite sure right now just how it will be different – but it will be.  My starting point will be moving past just Paul’s words of institution that begin “On the night when he was betrayed…” As important as they are, we need to hear more – so very much more.

I welcome your thoughts on just what that might be. 

An Experiment in Discernment

How often should a congregation celebrate the sacrament of Communion? It’s not an easy question to ask because there are so many varieties of preferences and so many reasons for them.

I honestly cannot recall how frequently we “had the Lord’s Supper” in the church of my childhood. But I do recall being excluded from it. I have a distinct visual memory of having the plate pass me by. That experience as a child was a key motivator for my seeking to be baptized.

I grew up in the Baptist tradition, which affirms believer’s baptism. One would not be baptized until one made a “personal profession of faith.” In order to make that profession, I received lots of nurturing from some wonderful people. They did their job so well that I was ready to affirm my love for Jesus when I was barely seven years old. That was truly the reason for my “profession of faith” – not being able to “take the Lord’s Supper.”

Ever since then, I’ve been acutely aware of what it means to exclude children from the Lord’s Table. I became even more acutely aware when our then almost eight year old son expressed the same exclusion. It was a moment I will never forget, and probably had much to do with my movement toward the Presbyterian tradition and away from the Baptist.

            Baptists would say that Communion is a memorial supper. The bread and cup remind us of Jesus. They are like object lessons – you might even say souvenirs – that trigger the memory of a story. Such an interpretation requires a level of understanding and comprehension, hence the typical Baptist reasoning for why children are excluded. They do not yet understand fully what it means to partake.

Presbyterians would say that, even though we do not affirm the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation, the living and risen Christ is truly present whenever we celebrate the sacrament of Communion. That truth is inherent in the word sacrament – which is an outward sign of an invisible grace. Sacraments take ordinary things, like water and bread and wine, and make them holy through the power of the Holy Spirit. When we receive the bread and cup, we receive the living presence of Christ. Just how that happens is a mystery we can never fully understand – no matter our age.

Sometimes I wonder if the desire to limit our celebrations comes from too much attention to our human ability to understand it. If it truly is a “sacrament” – a genuine experience of the real presence of Christ, would we not seek that encounter as often as we could?

At Seneca Presbyterian Church, we are investigating the possibility of increasing our opportunities to celebrate Communion. I’m grateful that our practice now is monthly – on the first Sunday of the month. For many, that frequency is just fine. It is often enough to highlight the importance of the sacrament, but not so often that it becomes “routine.” Others at Seneca Presbyterian have come from traditions where weekly celebration is the norm – which by the way is not limited to just the Catholic tradition. They affirm the spiritual refreshment and renewal that comes from each experience of the grace of God regardless of the frequency.

John Calvin believed in the unity of Word and Sacrament. One is not complete without the other. Presbyterians have a wonderful way of expressing this truth. We receive the Word written through scripture, the Word proclaimed through preaching, and the Word sealed and enacted through the sacraments. It is a powerful movement from listening to acting; from passive worship to active engagement. Word and Sacrament together represent worship that is whole and complete.

It was the pattern of worship for the first Christians, and Calvin argued for it in Geneva, where he led the work of reformation. For although the Mass was celebrated weekly by the priests in the Roman Catholic tradition, in the 16^th century it was only offered to the people once a year. Calvin lost the argument to the magistrates of the city. Moving from once to four times was quite sufficient in their minds. Calvin noted his disappointment with that decision for all who would follow: “I have taken care to record publicly that our custom is defective, so that those who come after me may be able to correct it the more freely and easily.”

So we are investigating the option. Our experiment will be small. We will try weekly Communion at just our 9:00 service for the eight Sundays between Easter and Trinity Sunday. We will talk about our experience and share our reflections. Then we will discern together what is best for the community of Seneca Presbyterian.

What reflections would you have to offer?