Two Eucharist Poems

Take and eat,
You say.
But
taking
requires more of my self
than I can offer.
So
I eat in vain,
hoping to swallow nothing more
than bread.

—K.C. Flynn

Darkness pours through crystal flutes
Filling sour Riesling with speckles of
shadow.

Turning red, every crimson speck
marring
Crystal clear white with a blood stain.

This is the cup I poured upon
threshing the chaff of life

Ashes flood my nostrils
Blacken my eyes
Cover my poverty:
Broken bread.

I leave the ash on my forehead
Bread in my mouth
Bending down
Convulsing in Pauline schizophrenia.

A dove hovers over my meal
With coals as tongue and lamps as eyes.

by Thomas Turner

Liturgy in the Local Community

Four Thoughts About the Possibilities of Liturgy and Locality

Introduction

I believe the worship (liturgy) of God’s church must be
driven by Scripture and historical wisdom. I believe some of our
problems in evangelicalism today have been because we rejected history
and thereby became Scripturally dubious as well. We cannot and should
not invent liturgy. Neither should we explain it to death. We (that see
the indispensability of liturgical worship and spiritual formation
practices) must avoid both the trite liturgical exercises devoid of
Scripture and historical integrity as well as high church liturgical
"orthodoxy" that is too Constantinian to be workable for those of us
who wish to engage a post Constantinian world. -David Fitch, "When Liturgy Goes Bad: Constantinian Liturgy in a Post-Constantinian World", on his blog Reclaiming the Mission

I am the "elements" guy at the church plant I am a part of in an upper
middle class community that has been "under-churched."  Entering into a
community like this in a missional way, one must take care to find a
"balanced" liturgy.  What Fitch alludes to in this essay is the
necessity of liturgy to both be an integral part of the community and
to not water down the liturgy for the community or force an unwilling
community into foreign liturgical structures.  

In such a post-Constantinian world, where power is seen with skeptical
eyes and met with hard hearts, the question becomes how can a church be
liturgical in a way that succeeds power to God.  This liturgy is not
controlling but prophetic, not the Word of the Church but the vessel of
the gospel, the Word of God.  This liturgy is local and ecumenical, in
the sense that it is aware of the body of Chrst on both global and
local levels.  The liturgy of the local church does not bring people
under the power of Christendom but instead points them toward the power
of God.
The essence of worship in a post-Constantinian community facilitates
the ancient ways (what Fitch calls "historical wisdom") through the
lens of local knowledge, existing traditions, and the truth of the
Word.  Change is not "bad" in this scenario, but it should shy away
from any claims to salvific or puritanical means.  Liturgy is not
something to be thrust on a community.  It is something that must grow
from within a community as it engages in the work of the kingdom and
(i) the recovery of historical theology, (ii) the foundation of their
own tradition, (iii) an ecumenically local worldview, (iv) and the centrality
of the Word to the worship service.

The Recover of Historical Theology

What came first, Protestantism or the Early Church?

That question is a tough one for some people.  (For you who are still contemplating, the
answer is the Early
Church).  In the modernist quest for foundational truth
movements often take shortcuts and simply rebuild the foundation of
Christianity again in their own words and ideas, and the old foundation becomes
lost and forgotten.

We do not need to idolize the early church.  We do not need to name drop saints and church
fathers all the time.  But we do need to
know where we come from if we are ever going to build liturgy within a local
community.

I am a mutt.  I am an
Anglo-Mexican-Hungarian Jew brought up in the Lutheran faith, educated at a
dispensational university and participating in an emergent-missional church
plant.  My wife is Polish, German, and
Irish brought up in the Assemblies of God. 
We are not who we are because of our background, but we are part of
different communities based on our past history and the importance of cultural
events in our life.  I grew up on Mexican
food, not Hungarian food, so I readily identify as Mexican—quesadillas and
chicken mole are part of my food heritage, not goulash.  For my wife Sarah she has much more cultural
resonance with the Polish side of her family, and foods I had for the first
time with her were pierogies, sauerkraut, stuffed cabbage, and real kielbasa.  Our pantry and refrigerator evidences this in
the hodge-podge of canned black beans, stacks of tortillas, homemade salsa,
pieriogies, and so forth.

The local church is like this.  We are all descended from somewhere, the
early church, then the Western and Eastern Churches, and then maybe some
Protestant denominations and breakups thrown in the mix as well.  But since the foundations of the historic
faith have been cut off for most Protestants to the past 500 years (and
Evangelicals the past 80 or so) we don’t know how to connect our culture
heritage as Christians, historic theology, liturgy, and practice, to the
present day.

The way we must attempt to do this is to start at the
beginning.  We need to read the prayers
of the New Testament in church.  We need
to incorporate the wisdom of the early church fathers and saints into our sermons
and prayers.  We need to see the Roman
Catholic Church as a rich source of wisdom. 
We need to not shun the ways of our spiritual parents.

God asks us to honor our father and mother.  We might not always agree, but we must show
respect.  The same needs to go for our
spiritual fathers and mothers.  We can
not relegate them to the dusty pages of seminary libraries.  They are our heritage, our faith, our
foundation, our physical tie to Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith.

The Foundation of Your Tradition

In the last Liturgy In the Local Community post I discussed why an
ancient-future perspective on theology and an ecumenical outlook are
important for the local church to consider.  The local church should
not only bring an ecumenical ancient-future outlook to their worship
but also reflection on the positives, negatives, and realities of their
tradition.

It would be misleading to think that an ancient-future church can
happen in a vacuum, and even more naïve to ever think a
non-denominational church is tradition-less or foundation-less.  All
churches have traditions and foundations—some wear it as a badge of
honor, others live with it, and still others pretend they don’t.  But
all churches come out of a tradition, even if it is a tradition of
having no traditions (i.e., the free church tradition share many common
distinctives and traits that form a core of what they identify with as
“free churches”).  

We should not be scared of the far reaching totality and diversity
of church history.  In the same way, we should not be scared of our own
denominational and sectarian traditions.  We need to respect the
traditions we come out of and how they have shaped the theology and
practice of the local church.  These traditions took shape for a
reason, and recovering the identity of your own tradition will enable
the local faith community to find their identity in the great river of
Tradition.

An Ecumenically Local Worldview

Local community is often seen as synonymous with the local
church, and the local church is often seen as synonymous with "that church over
there on the hill."  For liturgy to truly
be meaningful in a local community I think pastors, lay persons, and
congregations need to begin to think of the local church as all the churches in
a local community.  In other words, the
local church is the grouping of the handful (maybe dozens) of churches that are
down the road from each other, down the block from each other, or even next door
to each other.  The church plant I attend
meets inside of another church—talk about the proximity of churches in a
locality.  When the local church is
thought of as the collective of churches in a community, then liturgy is seen
in a fresher, and I would add truer, light.

Liturgy is "the public work," and the local church presents
itself to the community through its worship, both inside the church and outside
the church in the local community.  The
local church is present at the deli when a member of First Baptist
Church is buying some
lunch meat the same way the local church is present in the community when a parishioner
of St. Peter’s Roman Catholic Church is talking to someone at the local Post
Office.  The local church is present in
the local community seven days a week.

This re-orientation from the local church as a single church
to a collective of churches points the Christians of the local community
towards each other in conversation and dialogue.  As the Body of Christ doing the public work
through worship, discipleship, stewardship, and fellowship we are all working
to see the Kingdom
of God come to the shared
local community.  We might work in
different ways, we might not agree with each others theology, we might not
approve of each others techniques (or lack there of), but we must see that we
are working together.  We must see each
other as an ecumenical movement of the Kingdom in a particular place.  And we must see the collective that is the
local church in the local community as being the presence of Christ, through
the power of the Holy Spirit and the grace and mercy of the Father. 

The community my church, The Plant is centered in,
Allendale, NJ, has a public Stations of the Cross each year that all
the
churches in the local community participate in on Good Friday.  The
pilgrims of Christ go throughout the town
to different stations and participate in public worship.  This is a
perfect example of  how the liturgy can and should function in the
local community: the local church getting together, worshiping together
as the
public work, and presenting themselves as the presence of Christ inside
the
local community.

The Centrality of the Word

Alan Hirsch, whose quote began this essay,  questions the usefulness of the term church planting,
and whether it would be better to do "gospel planting."  The quote he finishes with has some tribal
and nationalistic overtones I am not very fond of, but the basic gist of what
Hirsch is saying is how I wanted to wrap up my discussion of liturgy in the
local community:

The centrality of the Word is paramount.

The local community can only be truly renewed and disciples
be truly made when the Word is at the center of the local community as the
collective of churches in the locality as well as the secular members of the
community.  The Word must be planted in
the center of a local community.

This is only accomplished through the paradox of Christ and
the work of the Trinity within this paradox. 
The centrality of the Word is the paradox of Christ, that he is present
in both Word and Sacrament, and both of these, according to Lathrop, make up
liturgy at its most elemental level.  The
Lord’s Supper reminds us and enables us to enter into the mystery of the
ever-present Christ in a powerful way, empowered by the Spirit to in turn be
Christ to others.  The ever-presence of
Christ in the Sacrament reminds us of how he is present everyday in his Spirit,
and that we do the work of the Father, found in his Word and the community (and
tradition), living continually the prophetic message of Christ’s kingdom.  The Word is God, and thus God, through Christ
and the Spirit, as the Trinity, are present together wherever liturgy is done,
where Word, Water, and Bread unite in worship and celebration and push the local
church out of its doors and into the local community.  Weekly worship of the local churches is thus
the first and last day, the first and the eighth day, when Christ is both
renewing his presence and completing his presence with us.  We live out the already/not yet of Christ,
present to us in Word, Sacrament, and his Spirit, yet still not yet come into
his Kingdom, because we must be Christ’s presence in the world until he does on
earth what he has done in the heavenlies.

The centrality of the Word is then the already/not yet we
share with others as we find Christ’s full presence in the Scriptures, the
sacraments, his Church, the local church, our own church, each other, and our
families.  Christ is Lord of all, and he
stands in the center of all as the Word of God enfleshed as Jesus of Nazareth
and ever-present before us through his Spirit.

A Post-Conservative Reflection on the Eucharist

by Tim Ghali

As a Post-conservative Evangelical
reflecting on the sacrament of the Eucharist, I am compelled to say
that it’s always been a beautiful and reflective time of worship
for me. There are times when I do feel that many of the churches
I’ve been a part of have been guilty of stripping the beauty and
significance of it by making it once a month, using the crackers (The
Body as a cracker? Does your NIV read, "I am the cracker of life"
in John 6?) and grape juice. Then there’s the attitude behind it
that concerns many.

What I have appreciated from my
tradition is that we have not been exclusive about it. All who
profess to know and love Christ can participate. In the "Who is
allowed to worship, teach Sunday School, drive the church van"
debates, it seems the greater question which is often overlooked is
who is allowed to receive of among the most sacred of moments, the
Eucharist or also put, "Communion" as referred to in my church.
At first glance, this may point out an inconsistency or it may lead
us to a richer hospitality of who comes through our doors and whose
cell phones we call.

But here’s what I really want to say.
I have been accustomed to hearing the teaching of unity from I
Corinthians 12 and the reconciliation before offering your gift in
Matthew 5 before partaking in communion together. I believe that and
adhere to it. But I am not sure how many of my fellow worshipers
over the years apply it and if so, how? I suppose I had always
pictured people moving throughout the service and reconciling with
one another – at least the procrastinators. And what about those
that had planned ahead? I have always wondered why I seldom heard
this story of forgiveness surrounding the context of communion.
Apparently many of us do not take it literally but we take it to be a
meaningful message pointing to the sacredness of the sacrament and
the need for peace amongst us.

I’d like to ask us to consider going
a step further. Just like the death and resurrection of Christ calls
us to live in peace with one another, we are also called to live in
peace with our neighbor, enemy, and all of creation. During those
softly piano played, candle flickering moments before the Lord’s
Supper, we often think of our sins of anger, lust, the self-righteous
and prideful moments. But when do we confront our collective racism?
Our bitterness towards others such as Muslims, our superiority
complex of other ethnicities, our attitude towards homosexuals and
the sins against our humanity and creation in the various forms of
personal materialism, collective greed, self-preservation, mass
consumption, etc., etc. etc.?

Celebrating and reflecting on the
Eucharist is a beautiful act of worship. Indeed we need to be
diligent, reflective and true to the character it represents for us -
peace to all under Christ.

Does Communion Promote Community Among Christians?

A
Historical and Contemporary Examination of the Most Sacred Sacrament

By
Scott A. Klepach, Jr.

Introduction

Since
I have never been a member of any type of church before, until a few
years ago communion had been only a vague conception to me. Though I
profess to be a Christian, I do not align myself with any sort of
denomination or necessarily every dogmatic teaching of the faith. A
few years back I had attended a church with my then-girlfriend for
several weeks before I became disheartened at the direction the
sermons seemed to be heading. During this time, however, the church
did hold a communion, but at the time this process meant little more
to me than, well, eating a piece of flavorless bread and a meager
portion of grape juice. For the next several years, I spent little
time in church and instead opted for my own personal investigations
of religion, and Christianity in particular. But throughout my
informal search, I never really reflected on communion; regrettably,
I admit this was partially the case because this sacrament did not
captivate me as much as other topics, such as the nature of God,
heaven and hell, views of the apocalypse, and so forth. My interest
was peaked when I learned early on in a college anthropology class
about the Catholic notion of transubstantiation, but it would take
several more years before I invested myself in a more comprehensive
study of the disputes and complexities of the communion process.
Because communion is quite intricate and mysterious, I shall break
down how the many Christian denominations regard what is considered
to be the most sacred sacrament of all in its historical and
contemporary contexts; examine such terms as transubstantiation and
its alternatives; and then I will share my own experiences of two
different communions at a Catholic mass and at a Grace Brethren
Church.

Transubstantiation
and Early Catholic Responses

Communion itself
began with Christ’s instructions to his apostles to remember him
and his sacrifice, but the early years of church practice had to
address other potential problems associated with this sacrament.
From their inception to modern day, the Catholic and Orthodox
churches both promote the idea of transubstantiation. This term
literally translates from Latin as "across substance," and
appears to have "no basis in Scripture [and] first appeared in the
early 9^th century AD."ⁱ
This term denotes that somehow during communion, the bread and wine
are converted into the actual flesh and blood of Christ. Though the
participant might still see, smell, and taste the bread and wine,
these are only considered to be the accidents, or the unessential
attributes of the original substances; it is important to note that
though these accidents still exist after the transformation, the
original substances are entirely destroyed and the new substances are
the real body and blood of Christⁱⁱ.
One Catholic illustration regarding the mystery behind
transubstantiation compares the process to a stone: "We experience
its hardness, its smoothness, its color, its shape. But the
substance that has these attributes eludes our observation."ⁱⁱⁱ
In other words, even real objects cannot be understood completely,
so it is not unreasonable to believe in transubstantiation. Another
argument for this conversion asks that if Christ intended this
process to be merely symbolic, he would have stated so more
specifically; rather, modern Catholic authorities argue that his
words "This is my body…This is my blood" (Mark 14: 22-24)
indicate that he means that the bread and wine literally turn into
his body and blood.^iv
Though transubstantiation began rather vaguely, it carried steam and
after the Council of Trent and Vatican II, Catholics still ardently
support this doctrine.^v

Even so, there were
other possible interpretations of communion that the church had to
address during the medieval era. During the time of Pope Alexander
III, monk and theologian Alan of Lille laid out four distinct
possibilities around the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215. The first
is that the sacrament is "purely symbolic," where the substances
remained exactly as they were beforehand and the process is a
reminder to believers.^vi
The second possibility, called impanation, deals with the
"Eucharistic change after the hypostatic union of the Son with his
human nature in the Incarnation," which meant that "the elements,
while retaining the full reality that was theirs, would have been
inseparably joined to the heavenly Body of Christ so as to be
identified with that Body."^vii
Since impanation seems to imply some sort of union between Christ
and the substances, it initiates later popular notions of the real
presence, which later many Protestants would advocate. But this
later-Protestant belief is much more closely aligned with the third
option, known as companation (which would later be called
consubstantiation, discussed below), which is similar to impanation
but is more exact in its explanation: "…the elements of the bread
and wine remained what they were but that the substance of the Body
and Blood of Christ became present along with the substances of bread
and wine…companation tended to hold for a juxtaposition of the two
substances."^viii
In some way, then, during communion the bread and wine are divided
into two natures: both natural and divine substances. These three
options were deemed heretical by the Church, but none more so than
the idea of communion being symbolic, since that interpretation
leaves no room for some form of divine intervention. Instead, the
Catholic Church adopted the fourth option, which was
transubstantiation.

Some suggest that
the belief in transubstantiation is so prevalent because it is not
only a reminder of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross, but furthermore
this change actually occurs because the effects of his sacrifice are
still continuing for each new generation. Though many skeptics state
that there is no biblical evidence for transubstantiation, supporters
claim that the "New Testament itself gives no cause to doubt the
reality of the presence of Christ in the sacrament; on the contrary
it provides quite sufficient foundation for that belief."^ix
These proponents often refer to excerpts from Paul and John as well
as Christ’s actual words. Moreover, Catholics defend this presence
as a sort of sacrifice, which

can save and redeem
only insofar as it is one with the sole valid and unique new
covenant, the sacrifice which atones for all. If the Mass is to be a
true sacrifice identical with the unique sacrifice of the cross then
the one offered on the cross and the gifts he offered (that is, the
flesh and blood of Christ which are the symbols of his self-offering)
must be present at Mass though of course without their historical
circumstances.^x

So in one sense
communion is an ongoing sacrifice, though each time
transubstantiation occurs Christ himself is not crucified and does
not bear the same pain as before, since his sacrifice "on the cross
is both the kairos which fulfills all time and removes
temporal boundaries, and also a definitive call to choose."^xi

Some
note that this idea of sacrifice is emphasized in Matthew and Mark,
while other sources, such as Paul and Luke, tend to focus more on the
end-product of communion.^xii
Indeed, communion is not only a ritual to look the past to remember
Christ’s sacrifice, but

it is also a type of
what is to come, the final realization of God’s all-embracing
kingdom…[t]he eucharist is no terminus, but a beginning and a
pledge of future perfection…[i]t does more than ‘announce the
death of Christ until he comes again’ (1 Cor. 11, 26); in some ways
it anticipates this advent and presages the messianic banquet in
heaven.^xiii

Looking at communion
from an eschatological perspective seems to make sense in light of
what

has already been
discussed; if communion is often seen as an ongoing sacrifice for
many centuries, then it seems only natural that the final communion
would take place only after parousia, or the Second Coming of
Christ, comes to pass. Until then, Christians are implored to
partake in this sacrament to look ahead to this event. Pope Paul VI
offered a new explanation of transubstantiation concerning the end of
days in his Mysterium Fidei. He contends that during this
communion, Christ himself does not come down to earth to change the
substances; rather, the substances are lifted up to him and then are
transformed after they descend. Paul asserted that this had to be
the case, for if Christ were to come down it would mean that the
Second Coming would have to occur.^xiv

Drifting Away
From Transubstantiation

Even before the
Protestant Reformation, we have already observed that a number of
labeled heresies were cropping up regarding the nature of communion,
and this continued until that monumental event. Even before Luther,
Wyclif had already denounced transubstantiation, but it was not until
the Reformation that these variants really took hold. Luther also
rejected this doctrine, and he also stated that the Eucharist was not
a sacrifice and should be allowed for all believers to engage in.^xv
As stated earlier, Luther carried forward the doctrine of
consubstantiation, where "the body and the blood of Christ, and the
bread and wine, coexist in union with each other."^xvi
The term consubstantiation is not used widely today, and sometimes
rejected "because of its ambiguity".^xvii
Instead, many Protestants prefer the term ‘real presence’
instead, which conveys the same message and indicates that somehow
Christ exists alongside the bread and wine. The Oxford Dictionary of
the Christian Church offers an illustration of this doctrine:
"‘Luther illustrated it by the analogy of the iron put into the
fire whereby both fire and iron are united in the red-hot iron and
yet each continues unchanged.’"^xviii
The term ‘real presence,’ then, signifies that neither food nor
divinity is permanently affected physically, though likely some type
of spiritual change has been accomplished.

The idea of real
presence is widely accepted by Protestants, but not unanimously. One
comparison chart between Catholicism and Protestantism paints a black
and white picture, where Catholics affirm transubstantiation and
Protestants reject it and opt for the real presence instead.^xix
While this may generally be true, it seems hasty to lump all
denominations into one category, and history tends to agree. Luther
received a vastly different response from Zwingli, who rejected even
the notion of the real presence and rather preferred to view
communion symbolically. He states that the "Lord’s Supper…is
nothing but the commemoration by which those who firmly believe that
by Christ’s death and blood they have become reconciled with the
Father proclaim this life-bringing death, that is, preach it with
praise and thanksgiving."^xx
Calvin offered another response in an attempt to bridge Luther and
Zwingi’s beliefs. Though Calvin rejected transubstantiation, real
presence, and symbolism, he contends that during the sacrament it is
the Holy Spirit that comes down and not Christ, and this exchange
offers spiritual nourishment.

Today many
Catholics and Protestants are still divided. As I explore below, I
was unable to participate in a Catholic communion but had no trouble
participating in a Protestant one. We shall now take a different
track, where I will share my experiences and explore more
contemporary views regarding the difficulties of conjoining all
Christians for communion.

From Theory to
Practice

The first phase of
my journey took me to Holy Family Church, a Catholic church that
rests in a residential area of Yakima, Washington. I attended a more
informal Sunday evening mass, where two of my acquaintances played in
a youth band. My wife and I quickly took a seat and waited for the
service to commence. When the music started, we stood with the rest
of the congregation, but this was the closest I got to observe the
rest of the rituals, including communion. I was unable to partake in
the sacrament because I was not a member of the Catholic Church.
Catholics maintain that "to receive Communion worthily, you must be
in a state of grace, have made a good confession since your last
mortal sin, believe in transubstantiation, observe the Eucharist
fast, and, finally, not be under an ecclesiastical censure such as
excommunication."^xxi
There are some limited exceptions when a non-Catholic or
non-Christian wishes to partake in a Catholic Communion, but most are
denied permission to do so and instead are encouraged to observe and
pray with the rest of the congregation.

Since I was unable
to participate in the Holy Communion, I questioned my two friends
about the process. I first asked about the bread and the wine
itself, and learned that the wafer is only slightly larger than a
guitar pick, and that Catholics do indeed imbibe red wine. The
church leaders pour this wine into one sizable chalice, and then each
member of the church drinks from this cup, and then the chalice is
refilled when needed. I wondered how this worked if someone were
sick with a cold or flu, and found out that a sick person can skip
out on drinking the wine but still eat the bread. This made me
wonder if this could lead to an imbalanced communion, where the sick
person would only be eating of the Body of Christ, yet not drinking
the Blood. I regret that I did not press this issue further. I
asked my friends if they believed in transubstantiation, and one
denied it until I explained the term to him, to which he then replied
that he did, in fact, believe in the process.

As a non-Catholic,
I completely understand why lifelong Catholic friend would have been
confused about the Catholic communion process, because if the mass I
attended was any indication, there seems to be no real explanation of
the sacrament altogether. Granted, the church leaders read a
biblical passage regarding the practice, and it is likely that there
had been clarifications in Sunday schools or perhaps in other
sessions in the past, but it is understandable if a seemingly casual
Catholic like my friend would lose some of the implications of
communion when it occurs weekly with little or no commentary
attached. Indeed, when I observed the members of the church line up
for communion on command and receive a bread wafer and a sip of wine,
I wondered how many Catholics were like my friend, who seemed
uncertain about the specifics of his faith, and then I began to
wonder how many Christians in general understood the communion
procedure.

I attended my
second communion at the Grace Brethren Church, also on a Sunday
evening in Yakima. This experience was vastly different from the
previous one. This church has a much smaller congregation, and I
learned that this denomination only holds communion once or twice a
year (in fact, this particular church was long overdue, boasting a
hiatus of over a year and a half). Perhaps it was because of this
smaller group, or because the communion is held here much less often,
or even because the pastor knew that several of the attendees were
completely new to the process, the participants all received a clear,
well-organized explanation of what was about to ensue. The pastor
outlined the evening’s agenda, which included the love feast, foot
washing, and finally the bread and cup. Before this experience I
only understood communion as the latter of the three elements, since
most denominations only emphasize that component. The Grace Brethren
Church, while still considering the bread and cup portion as most
crucial, does not wish to neglect the other two aspects. The church
contends that Christians should perform the communion ritual in its
entirety, as Christ and his apostles did two thousand years ago.
Above all, the pastor stressed that all of the elements of communion
are to be taken symbolically and nothing more, which hearkens back to
the ideas of Zwingli.

The first event was
foot washing, which was the one aspect I was most apprehensive about
going into the church. I was told that I could either observe or
take part in this activity (as well as the others), so I elected to
try everything, including this. Before we began, the pastor informed
us that foot washing is mostly abandoned by Christians today because
there is no real need for it; during the time of Christ, people would
travel for hours or days wearing only sandals, so their feet would go
for long periods of time without being cleaned. The act of foot
washing is significant because Christ himself washed his apostles’
feet, which was unheard of since it was a servant’s job, not a
master’s. This church suggests that "[i]t seemed backward to
allow one so superior to bend His knee and do the task of a servant,"
and emphasizes the symbolism in this ritual as well: "[Jesus] was
using footwashing to symbolize the spiritual washing from sin a
person needs so they can enjoy fellowship with Jesus."^xxii
The church makes clear that the act itself does not offer salvation;
rather, it represents a saved Christian’s "daily, ongoing need
for cleansing sin as a believer continues to struggle with their
sinful nature."^xxiii
With this act Christians not only recognize Christ’s humility, but
also they shed light on their own daily behavior. After this
explanation, males and females were separated into different rooms
for the actual foot washing. Though unstated, this action implied
that the church deemed it necessary to separate the sexes so that
there would not be any temptation and the act itself would not be
defiled. I took my seat across from a row of men, while an elderly
Baptist sat next to me and chose to observe. During this process,
everyone seemed upbeat and humorous. One of the elders of the church
was in charge of pouring fresh water for each person, and when my
turn came I discovered that the bowl was only big enough for one
foot. My foot washer lifted my foot and splashed water on it, then
plopped it back down into the water so that it was fully immersed,
and then did the same with my other foot. I grabbed the towel that
was resting on the back of my chair and handed it to him so that he
could dry off my feet, which was required for each washer. I then
realized that this procedure was supposed to be reciprocal, which
meant I had to wash someone’s feet as well. Because of the uneven
number of males, it turned out that no one had true partners; rather,
we jumped around so that I didn’t wash the feet of the person who
washed mine, and some males had to administer to more than one
person.

The following event
was the agape feast, or love feast (after we were allowed a
chance to thoroughly wash our hands, of course). The men and women
were reunited for this meal, which consisted of rolls and cold cuts
which could be converted into sandwiches; Caesar salad; various pasta
salads; and juice or water to drink. There were two long tables
placed parallel to each other to hold the approximately twenty
participants. The pastor explained that the love feast is a
reproduction of the Last Supper, and "it was during this meal that
[Jesus] gave [the apostles] the symbols celebrated during
Communion."^xxiv
During the meal, we were encouraged to express any thoughts we had
regarding God’s love for human beings and vice versa, and any
thoughts we had regarding the nature of heaven. During the meal the
atmosphere was light and jovial, but it was not all just full of
jokes; rather, the participants seriously considered and discussed
these questions. In this context, it seems appropriate that the
conversation was directed in this way, since the church believes that
"the Love Feast reminds us that Jesus has not forgotten about us on
earth. He will one day return for us, taking us to heaven, where we
will join Him in a feast to celebrate our arrival."^xxv
Any other conversation would have seemed out of place and probably
taken away from the communion experience.

The third event was
the well-known bread and cup, which, as stated before, the Grace
Brethren Church (and many contemporary Protestants) believes to be
merely symbolic rather than a ritual that transforms these
substances. Even so, viewing this process in a symbolic light does
not make it any less important to Protestants. Even though most
Protestant denominations allow outsiders to share the communion
sacrament, many make known that "one needs to guard against lightly
observing this symbol,"^xxvi
and the pastor referred to the biblical passage that affirms this
sentiment: "A man ought to examine himself before he eats of the
bread and drinks of the cup" (1 Cor. 11:27-29), or else one will be
judged by God. For this reason, we took a moment of silence before
we broke the bread and drank the grape juice. We were told to
examine the nature of our souls and lives, as if to prepare ourselves
to fully embrace the most important factor of communion. After this
brief period, several hymns were performed, and during this time we
were instructed to first break bread with the person next to us.
This piece of bread was thicker and longer than the wafer served in
the Catholic Church, and this version required two people to conduct
the actual breaking of the bread I had heard so often about before.
Then, at any time during the next song or two we were allowed to eat
the bread when we felt it most appropriate, and the same went for the
tiny portions of grape juice that we were given. In this context,
the bread and cup served as reminders of Christ’s sacrifice to the
world, and the pastor was careful to emphasize the fact that nothing
mystical occurs, such as transubstantiation. The pamphlet he handed
me makes a very interesting take on communion: "Communion is a
celebration of Jesus’ presence with us."^xxvii
In this light, one can infer that the Grace Brethren Church, along
with many Protestants, contend that Christ’s presence is pervasive
and ubiquitous; his presence is not limited to the moment when the
bread and wine are consecrated. Instead, many Protestants recognize
that Christ is always present and does not necessarily have to become
a living entity in the bread and wine.

This is not to say
that Catholics do not also agree that Christ is present in the world
in other ways, but only that they go one step further in declaring
that it is Christ, and not just his presence, in what used to
be the bread and wine in communion. Herein lies one of the greatest
problems today between Catholics and Protestants. Although I was
accepted into the Catholic Church to observe and pray, I could not
actually receive communion because I was not a member of the church
because I had not accepted the Catholic doctrines, principally
transubstantiation. Because of this, Catholics feel that "it is
normally impossible for non-Catholic Christians to receive Holy
Communion, for to do so would be to proclaim a unity to exist that,
regrettably, does not."^xxviii
Even so, many suggest that it is time for "Catholics,
particularly, [to] study the ecumenical implications of sacramental
theology," meaning that perhaps it is time to stress unity over
difference in Christianity. As many Protestants let open their
doors, so too should all Christians, since at a foundational level a
believer would know and follow Christ and still observe communion in
some way and by doing so would recognize its value. But this call is
for all Christians, including Protestants, who have long attacked the
Catholic Church for its belief system as well. Perhaps the time has
come for both sides to yield a bit, to put aside their
battle-hardened attitudes and see the underlying truths that connect
their denominations. Christians believe that Christ made a sacrifice
for all, so if one were to accept this core belief, all other ritual
matters should be considered far secondary in nature, and as such,
tolerated by others.

Endnotes:

i
Jackson, Wayne, "What are Transubstantiation and
Consubstantiation?", Christian Courier 19 Feb. 2002.
<http://www.christiancourier.com/questions/transubstantiationQuestion.htm>

ii
O’Connor, James T., The Hidden Mana: A Theology of the
Eucharist, San Francisco: Ignatius, 1988. 116.

iii
Young, John, "Transubstantiation and Reason," Catholic.net
Jan. 1998.
<http://www.catholic.net/rcc/Periodicals/Homiletic/Jan98/transubstantiation.html>

iv
"Who Can Receive Communion?" Catholic Answers 10 Aug.
2004.
<http://www.catholic.com/library/Who_Can_Receive_Communion.asp>

v
Jackson.

vi
O’Conner, 117.

vii
Ibid.

viii
Ibid., 118.

ix
Warnach, Victor, "Symbol and Reality in the Eucharist," The
Breaking of Bread, New York: Paulist Press, 1969, Vol. 40 of
Concilium: Theology in the Age of Renewal, Ed. Pierre Benoit,
et. al. 91.

x
Ibid., 93.

xi
Ibid., 94.

xii
Ratzinger, Joseph, "Is the Eucharist a Sacrifice?" The
Sacraments: An Ecumenical Dilemma, New York: Paulist Press,
1967, Vol. 24 of Concilium: Theology in the Age of Renewal,
Ed. Hans Kreug. 71-73.

xiii
Warnach, 102-103.

xiv
qtd. In O’Conner.

xv
O’Conner, 133.

xvi
Jackson.

xvii
Ibid.

xviii
qtd. In Jackson.

xix
"Comparison of Catholic and Protestant Theology," Religion
Facts, 2004.
<http://www.religionfacts.com/christianity/charts/catholic_protestant.htm>

xx
O’Conner, 142.

xxi
"Who Can Receive Communion?"

xxii
Pastor Adam Copenhaver, Communion, Eucharist brochure,
Yakima: Grace Brethren Church, 2005.

xxiii
Ibid.

xxiv
Ibid.

xxv
Ibid.

xxvi
Ibid.

xxvii
Ibid.

xxviii
"Who Can Receive Communion?"

Wine and the Eucharist

A Mid-Week
Thought from the Bottom of Evan Curry‘s Glass

“Then [Jesus]
took the cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, and
they all drank from it. ‘This is my blood of the covenant,
which is poured out for many,’ he said to them. ‘Truly I
tell 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 14v22-25 TNIV)

I’m more of a
beer lover than I am a wine lover; just for preference sake. I drink
certain beers with certain foods and in certain times of year. For
instance, I drink Oktoberfest beers during October (that’s
simple enough to explain). I don’t really drink wine so I can
in no way claim to be a wine “connoisseur.” But I know
wine lovers do the same. Certain wines go with certain foods and with
certain times of year.

Over the years, there
has been a tension inside of evangelicalism, in particular, about
drinking alcoholic beverages. However, for much of church history,
wine (alcoholic) was seen as “the fruit of the vine” to
be used during the taking of the Eucharist. Due to the “moral”
issues evangelicals had with alcohol, they have often (if not always)
refrained from using wine in the Eucharist and thus substitute grape
juice. 
(Keep reading to take the survey!!!)

It seems to me that
Jesus used wine during the Last Supper, and, as part of reminding
ourselves of his death we would follow the same pattern. But I’ve
never had wine with Communion in my evangelical churches.
Evangelicals who disagree with wine at Communion, or alcohol in
general, usually use (what I believe to be) poor arguments against
it.

1. First, the wine
   was more like grape juice. OK…two problems. (a) Where did
   they get refrigerators to prevent fermentation? (b) Then, why are
   they warned not to get drunk on it? That’s a lot of grape
   juice.

2. Second argument,
   wine was better than the water of the day. True, and this is
   probably the same in many third-world countries today so should we
   ask them to refrain from using wine?

3. Third, we may
   have recovering alcoholics in our congregation, and we don’t
   want to tempt them to fall back into that. At church? Really?
   The fact that they are at church is already a step forward, don’t
   you think? (I’ll come back to this. Kids are also used as
   excuses to hide behind).

4. Four, my favorite
   – we don’t want to offend those against alcohol.
   Well, at least we are playing it safe with the whole Jesus died a
   bloody, gory death on the cross, and now you are eating his “body”
   and drinking his “blood.” Good thing that’s not
   offensive in any way (obviously, I’m being sarcastic). Not
   buying this one either.

I’m not trying to
engage in a pro or con alcohol debate, but I think we can get past
this when we think about how beautiful a picture, with some
creativity, Communion can paint if we use wine again.

My question is this,
What if we used certain wines for Communion for certain times of
the year? What if we followed the church calendar and chose wine
accordingly? Like I said, I’m not a “wine person”
so I’ll need your help here. I’m going to use a
“condensed version” of the Western church calendar (West,
only because most of you are from that tradition; and, if you weren’t
aware there was a church calendar, then, you’ll need
Wikipedia). So fill in the blanks in the comments below:

1. Advent:
   around Christmas season, I would use wine to celebrate
   the birth of Jesus. I would do that because _________. (Maybe
   something that people drink at the birth of children? Or at
   Christmas?)

2. Ephinany:
   for the coming of the Magi, I would use wine to express __________. (Maybe something people give others as a gift?)

3. Lent:
   during Lent, I would use wine because __________. (Maybe
   something to help remind us of the “bitterness” of our
   sins?)

4. Easter:
   during Easter season, I would use wine because ___________. (Maybe around Good Friday something deep red and heavy to remind us
   of the blood of Christ? At Easter, something celebratory, sweet, and
   light to remind us new life in the season—like flowers
   blooming—and in the resurrection?)

5. Ordinary Time:
   during the rest of the year, I would use wine to express __________. (Maybe something generic?).

I think this would be
beneficial for evangelicals on a number of levels.

(1) Kids and
alcoholics could see alcohol being used for beauty and life, instead
of revelry and something in which to drown your sorrows.
(2) We would
restore the old tradition of using wine.
(3) But ultimately,
it would help us give reason for why we chose a certain wine to
present a certain truth. We could explain it to our congregations why
we use this certain wine in communion.
(3b) It would help us refrain
from seeing it as a “boring ritual” because we are using
some type of creativity. How ‘bout this? – We could even
have lay people say why they chose this certain wine this week
to express such and such a truth.

I’m interested in
what people have to say about this. So, please leave comments and
fill in the blanks above. Also, I’m not sure where we are all
on this. Would everyone get offended? Would you be offended?
Would you appreciate this change and creativity? Is this even
possible? If so, please take a few moments to fill a quick
survey about this topic.

The Trinity and the Sacraments of the Church

Inhabitio Dei shares a heady and terse essay on the "Sacraments, Mission, and Divine Action."  The importance of this piece is in the discussion of the Trinity‘s role in the Sacraments of the Church, and how they are all inter-linked.

An excerpt:

The sacramental practices of the church participate in the christic and
pneumatic dynamism of the immanent triune life which is the telos of
the world in Christ. The sacramental base-practices of the church,
rightly understood, are the form and splendor of the inter-trinitarian
love translated into the life of humanity through the Son. In baptism a
person is drawn into the circle of triune love, which embraces, heals,
and captivates the brokenness of sinful humanity. Through baptism the
Spirit unites the believer with Christ, drawing her into the communion
of the Trinity which exists on earth as the church. Likewise, through
the Eucharist, the members of the body of Christ gather together by the
Spirit in the peace that has been wrought by word of the cross which
makes all things one. In the Eucharist the one loaf is consumed by the
one body thereby assuming the members together into a truly united,
truly catholic ekklesia.

The full essay is here.