Test Driving Theology

Have you ever experienced a really good meal?  I mean really good?  A meal that stands out…a meal that you remember.  We all know that a great meal…is not simply about the food……though having good food certainly helps. No, a great meal is much more than that. A great meal is good food…and, it is good people.  I have a group of good friends from all over the country that gets together once a year at a conference.  We always go out for a meal together.  We always find a good restaurant…and we are always in there for two, or even three hours.  There is conversation, there is laughter…there is eating…drinking… storytelling… there is more laughter…and every year when we finish that dinner together, and we are on our way back to our hotel, I am reminded just how much I love these people.  This meal is special.  Every single year.  

There is something important…something profound that can happen when we gather around a table.  Meals carry meaning. We gather not just to eat but to connect. Sometimes we celebrate together. Sometimes we grieve together. Always, we remember. Great meals tell stories.

This week we continue our sermon series, “Words That Changed the World,” where we’ve been looking at the words of Jesus; his teachings, and his wisdom.  The things that he said that shifted the course of human history and continue to shape our lives.

Today, we are focusing on what happened at what has come to be known as the Last Supper, when Jesus gathered his disciples in the “Upper Room,” the night that he was betrayed and arrested.

The Last Supper was not just a random dinner, it was the Passover meal, a meal that relived the story of God rescuing the Jewish people from slavery in Egypt; of God protecting them from the angel of death; and of God guiding them to the promised land.  At a Passover dinner, even still, to this day, every element on the table, every story that is told, all point back to that historical moment of liberation and grace.

But in the middle of this particular Passover meal, in that Upper Room, Jesus does something unexpected…He picks up the bread, not just to remind them of manna in the wilderness, but instead, he says, “This bread…this is my body, given for you.” He picks up the cup, not just to remind them of the blood of the lamb spread on their doorposts in Egypt, but to say, “This wine…it is the new covenant in my blood.”

In other words, Jesus is saying: there a new Exodus. A new rescue. A new covenant. And it’s happening right here…right now. And it’s happening through me.

Pastor Adam Hamilton writes that the words of Jesus that night became his central ethical command.  Hamilton writes that “These words at the Last Supper became the defining mark of the Christian life.  It is not a feeling, but a way of living and being.  It is reflected in kindness, generosity, compassion and forgiveness.  It is meant to be the currency of the Kingdom of God.”

The Apostle Paul, writing to the Corinthians, does not treat Jesus’ words lightly either. In fact, he presents them as foundational. This meal, this practice, this remembrance…it’s at the heart of our life together…it’s at the heart of our faith.  

Those words, “this is my body”…”this is my blood…”, they reframe the entire story of God’s people. They mark a turning point in history. And they’ve been remembered and repeated ever since.  They changed the world.

So, when Paul writes to the Corinthians, he is reminding them that this meal isn’t just a ritual.  it’s a proclamation.  Paul says that when you receive the bread and the wine…you are proclaiming an importanttruth about Jesus.  

Paul writes: “For as often as you eat this bread and you drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.”

Communion is an act of proclamation. By receiving the bread and the wine, as we will in just a few moments, we’re telling the story of Jesus. We’re naming grace. We’re pointing to hope. And we’re placing ourselves in the middle of God’s story.

Let me tell you about a woman I once visited in the hospital.  Her name was Marie. Marie was near the end of her life. Her memory was slipping. Conversation came and went in fragments. But when I pulled out a small piece of bread and a tiny cup of wine and began to speak the familiar words, something changed.

“This is the body of Christ…this is the blood of Christ…” She closed her eyes. Her lips moved along with mine. “Given for you… shed for you…” And when I placed the bread in her hand, she whispered, “Thank you, Jesus.”  Thank you, Jesus.  It was a moment I will never forget.  

The meal was so real for her. Jesus was so present for her.  The meal anchored her. It reminded her of who she was. Whose she was. Even as the rest of her memory was fading, this story remained.

That’s the power of these words.

One of the challenges Paul addresses in this part of his letter is how the Corinthians were treating the Lord’s Supper. Some were eating in cliques. Some were hoarding food while others went hungry. And Paul was writing to tell them: “No, no, no…you’ve missed the point.”

This meal, Paul reminds us, is about unity. It levels the playing field. It reminds us that we all come to Jesus with empty hands. No one earns a spot at this table. We are invited.  We receive it as a gift.

In our world today, that message is more important than ever. We live in a time of deep division; politically, culturally, even within Christianity. But when we gather at the table, we remember that we are not defined by our differences, but by the grace of God poured out for us.

One of the things I’m keenly aware of is that here at Trinity…here in the Sanctuary right now, there are people of all different types.  

• Some of you love to drive Fords…some love to drive Chevys.  
• Some of you love modern music…some of you love classical.
• Some of you are young.  Others of you are…less young.
• Some of you are of northern European heritage.  Others of you may have Asian, or Latino, or Native American, or African or Middle Eastern ancestors.  
• Some of you are single.  Others of you are married.
• Some of you may be straight, while others of you are LGBTQ.  
• Some of you are staunch conservatives.  Some of you are passionate liberals.  Many of you find yourself somewhere in the middle. 
• Some of you may be dealing with physical limitations; others may struggle emotionally.  
• Some of you have faith like a mountain today…others may be questioning or doubting.  

Here’s what I know.  These things are not unimportant.  They are a part of who you are.  And I do not want to ever diminish those things.  But I know something else: In just a few minutes, you are all going to come forward to receive this sacrament.  And when you do…you all have one thing in common.  You each come forward as a child of God, deeply loved; and a follower of Jesus.

When you come forward, those other things…those things that may separate you from each other, they all fade.  And together…side-by-side…you stand in the presence of God.

That’s what this meal does. It reminds us that grace is the great equalizer.

Paul ends this passage with a look toward the future: When you receive the bread and the wine, “You proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.”

Communion isn’t about looking back.  It is about looking ahead. It’s a foretaste of the feast to come. A glimpse of the day when all things will be made new.

Every time we share this meal; we hold on to hope:

• Hope that the pain and brokenness of the world is not the final word. 
• Hope that Jesus is still at work. 
• Hope that one day, we will sit at a table where every tear is wiped away, and where we experience pure joy.

When life is heavy…when grief weighs us down, when uncertainty clouds our view…this meal can carry us. Because this meal doesn’t depend on our strength. This meal reminds us of God’s faithfulness.

This morning, I’d love to offer you just a few practical takeaways about receiving communion together.  These might even be things you carry with you into the week ahead:

• First, come to the table with intention. Don’t let receiving this gift of grace become rote. Before you receive communion, take a moment to reflect…to pray. Where do you need to be reminded of grace? Where do you need to be released from those things that make you feel stuck, or trapped? Come to the altar this morning with open hands and with an open heart.

• Second, let the story shape your story. Communion is not just about remembering a past event…it is about stepping into a living story. This sacrament is never past-tense…it is always present tense and future-focused.  How might that story of Jesus’ love and sacrifice shape the way you live? 
  
• Third, practice community outside the sanctuary. One of the best ways to honor the Lord’s Supper is to share other connections…other meals with intention. Who do you connect with? Who could you invite in? Who needs to know they are welcome in your life?

• And finally, hold on to hope. The table reminds us that Jesus is not done. Whatever you’re walking through, this meal is a marker…a signpost pointing to resurrection and new life.

My friends, remember these words of Jesus:

• “This is my body, given for you.”
• “This is the new covenant in my blood, shed for you.”
• “Do these things in remembrance of me.”

These are words that changed the world. And they keep changing it; they change it…one person…one heart…and one faith at a time.

Thanks be to God.

Amen.