Communion

John 6:24-35  

Rev. Dr. Mary Alice Mulligan

For 1500 years, almost every Christian worship service was composed of both preaching of the word and sharing Communion. Sometime during the Reformation, some Protestants shied away from taking Communion weekly, for various reasons. And certain groups of Protestants continue not to take Communion each week. Although some congregations in the United Church of Christ do take Communion each time they worship, many (like St. Andrew) do not. But whether a person takes Communion every Sunday, once a month, or twice a year, they ought to consider what they are doing. We need to talk about Communion occasionally, to remind ourselves this is not snack time, but an intimate connection with God through Jesus Christ.

            For several weeks we have heard scriptures which talk about nourishment. Two weeks ago, people were clamoring around Jesus, eager to be filled up. And last week, we heard about the important sustenance that can come from leftovers. In today’s passage, people are still flocking around Jesus, remembering how he fed them. In many of the passages when Jesus feeds people, we hear the same words: he takes, blesses, breaks, and gives them food. Sounds like he is serving Communion all over the Gospels – on the hillside, in various people’s homes, of course, at the Last Supper, and after the Resurrection, at Emmaus and then on the beach. When Jesus performs these simple acts of taking, blessing, breaking, and giving food (whether bread, fish, wine) he is doing something more than merely providing a physical meal. He is serving Communion. Again from the 6th chapter of the Gospel of John, listen for the word of God.

So when the crowd saw that neither Jesus nor his disciples were there, they themselves got into the boats and went to Capernaum looking for Jesus. When they found him on the other side of the sea, they said to him, “Rabbi, when did you come here?” Jesus answered them, “Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For it is on him that God the Father has set his seal.”

Then they said to him, “What must we do to perform the works of God?” Jesus answered them, “This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.” So they said to him, “What sign are you going to give us then, so that we may see it and believe you? What work are you performing? Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.’” Then Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” They said to him, “Sir, give us this bread always.” Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.

Jesus serves Communion to feed us. How often in the Gospels does Jesus break bread when people are hungry? He is nourishing our empty places. Jesus apparently understands that crowds follow him from one side of the sea to the other, because their hunger was assuaged by food Jesus took, blessed, broke, and gave to 5000 people from 5 loaves and 2 little fish a child offered. People continue to seek Jesus because when their tummies are grumbling, he gives them food. But Jesus wants them to understand he is not just providing snacks. He is creating a worship event. Something holy is going on because God is at work in Jesus.

So here we are, wanting to understand better why we keep doing what Jesus did. What does it mean to break bread in worship? The answer has been argued over for 2000 years. Walls of books try to explain Eucharist. For centuries, disagreements led to ugly words, excommunications, and even killing those with whom one disagreed. Many people have believed that through the eucharistic words and actions bread and wine become the true substance of Jesus’ body and blood. Reformer Martin Luther is said to have pounded on a desk, quoting Jesus in Latin, “Hoc est enim corpus meum!” meaning “This is my body.” Other Reformers, like Zwingli would have responded with the other words of Jesus, “Do this in remembrance of me.” Zwingli’s position claims sharing bread and cup recalls the sacrificial love of Jesus which allows humans to do our worst and still he forgives us.

Despite different opinions, we can agree on some things. Like, at Communion, followers of Jesus Christ somehow come in contact with the sacrificial life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, even if we do not agree on exactly what that contact is. Together we take bread and cup, which helps form us into a faith community. And in taking Communion, we experience our sins forgiven. These ingredients: sensing the entire Christ event, being shaped into his community, and having our sins forgiven, reflect the holiness of coming together at the Table. At the Supper, we become a community, we sense the crucifixion and resurrection, and we are forgiven, and so we are nourished. Before anything else, Communion feeds us.

But we have a deeper hunger. Something within us craves more. Don’t get me wrong, there is a satisfaction from doing what Jesus did and reconnecting with those ancient events. We feel fulfilled when we partake at the Table. But we must admit, if God is “infinite in wisdom, power, and love,” as one of the Modern Affirmations claims[1], then our little brains cannot possibly wrap around all there is to comprehend about God through Jesus. No matter how closely we follow the teachings of Jesus, no matter how many books we read about Christianity, no matter how many arguments we get into about Communion – we will not understand all there is to know about God. In fact, our appetite for Jesus is not merely to remember what happened, but something.. more.

We expect teen-agers to delve into the meaning of life; to get wrapped up in agonizing over the “who am I?” questions. “What’s it all about?” And the truth is, Christian adults should have those times, too. Not asking “Who am I?” but “Who is Jesus? How can I be filled up with him even more than I am?” Probably we’ve all heard of the book, When All You’ve Ever Wanted isn’t Enough. Many folks get to a place where they accomplish all the goals they set out for themselves, and still they don’t feel fulfilled. Our relationship with Jesus can feel that way, too. We read scripture about him; we come to worship regularly; we think about his sacrificial love for us when we take Communion; we pray; we follow his teachings, filling up the containers in the Gathering Area with toiletries and socks, and yet still there is something missing. We feel a hunger we cannot name exactly, but when we allow ourselves time to get quiet – real time, real quiet – when we reach out to our Savior, we can sense it. We suspect there is more; we want something.. more. We have a deeper hunger.

Fortunately, Jesus Christ provides deeper nourishment. He feeds even hungers we cannot name. But here is where things get more difficult. How can we talk about something Jesus does which satisfies a hunger we cannot articulate? The writer of John had the same problem. He tried to describe who Jesus is and what Jesus does for us, when human language is not sufficient.

A poem of Conrad Aiken’s begins: “Music I heard with you was more than music, and bread I broke with you was more than bread;”[2] Aiken understood there are experiences which outstrip our ability to describe them. All we can say is “more than music…more than bread.” Jesus offers us nourishment which is more than normal food, even more than holy nourishment. We could say, metaphorically, we are invited to feed not only on bread which comes from Jesus but is Jesus.  He gives us himself; calls us to feed on his very being.

But what in the world does that mean? John reminds us that the Hebrew people ate bread in the wilderness which was Holy Manna, bread from heaven (more than regular bread which people baked). But remember, manna spoiled if people kept it overnight (except for the sabbath). Jesus is Holy Nourishment which never spoils. He is eternal Holy Manna come down from heaven which gives life to the world.

When we open ourselves to Christ, quietly open our deepest being (our most real selves), we become filled, even in places we didn’t know were empty. To feed on Jesus connects us with the awesome reality of God. Such an experience has no adequate words. But we have been filled with something sacred. One scholar notes, “The Lord’s Supper and its accompanying worship on a Sunday morning is not a ‘foretaste’ of things to come. It is the very feast…”[3] As we share bread and cup in worship we suddenly exist in the very presence of the Realm of God, so of course we want to feed on him, to experience the wholeness of life in God’s presence; to experience the one in whom the work of God fills our deepest hunger. When we take the time, Jesus himself fills our deepest needs.

[1] “Modern Affirmation,” in The United Methodist Hymnal (1989), 885.

[2] Conrad Aiken, “Bread and Music,” in Modern American Poetry, ed Louis Untermeyer (Harcourt, 1958), 421.

[3] W. B. Blakemore, “Worship and the Lord’s Supper ,” in The Revival of the Churches, ed. Wm. Barnett Blakemore, The Renewal of Church: The Panel [of Scholars] Reports, v. 3 (St. Louis: Bethany Press), 249.