January 21, 2024
A Bath, A Book, A Meal: The Lord’s Supper
Mark 1:14-20
Today we’re concluding our series on the basics of Christian worship, called a Bath, a Book, and a Meal. In January, we tend think about the basics of many things – health, finance, fitness, goals and organization. So, for the past three Sundays, we have been thinking about the basics of worship: word and sacrament – or, a book, a bath, and a meal.
We gather around the Book, and when the Word is preached, we hear the good news, the message of God’s salvation and God’s kingdom. We gather around the Bath, to remember at that we are claimed by the Spirit in baptism as God’s own children. And we gather around the Meal, to share the Lord’s Supper. So, we turn our attention now to the Meal.
The Meal. Called the Lord’s Supper, because it is modeled on the last meal Jesus had with his disciples. Called Communion, because here we commune with God and the body of Christ. Called the Eucharist, because that word means thanksgiving, and this is a meal of deep gratitude for all of God’s saving work.
Listen now for the word of the Lord.
14 Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee proclaiming the good news of God 15 and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”
16 As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea, for they were fishers. 17 And Jesus said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of people.” 18 And immediately they left their nets and followed him. 19 As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. 20 Immediately he called them, and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men and followed him.
This is the word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.
When a baby is born, usually within about an hour, that baby is ready to eat. For the first few months of life, newborns will eat 8-12 times a day, every 2-3 hours; morning, noon, and night. Of course, as the child grows, meals become less frequent, but they get larger and more costly. For families with children at home, food is the second highest expense after a mortgage or rent.
The USDA says that a family of five – two parents and three children – will spend between $1000 and $1500 per month on groceries. Incidentally, our high schoolers who volunteered at Manna Food Bank’s midnight manna are helping to relieve that burden. And your gifts each month to the Daily Change offering of the Presbytery of Western North Carolina also help to relieve that burden.
Still, for all the help that one may receive, parents know in their souls that the parents have to feed the children. Even after the kids have flown the next, when they come back for summer vacation or Thanksgiving or Christmas, parents stock up and plan meals. Even a retired parent who eats only two meals a day and can stretch takeout for two more days, will stock the pantry or make reservations to feed the children and grandchildren.
I recall my mother talking about the challenge of our family of six when we visited her house, and she was trying to plan meals and purchase food. She was 25 years out of practice on feeding a crowd and it was a daunting task.
Two summers ago, she invited us to join her and her husband at the beach with my brothers. When we arrived, Mom told us, “I decided not to make a meal plan, I figured we could just do that when you got here.” Well… we looked at the hungry faces in the room, and that became the top priority. My brothers and I got back in the car headed to the crowded grocery store on a Saturday at the beach to get supplies for the week.
Deep in our souls, parents know the responsibility of feeding their children, and this is doorway through which we can understand the deep truth of this Communion meal. In the Institutes of Christian Religion, the systematic theology of John Calvin, who is the theological parent of the Presbyterian Church, Calvin begins his discussion of the Lord’s Supper this way:
God has received us, once for all, into God’s family, to hold us not only as servants but as children. Thereafter, to fulfill the duties of a most excellent [parent] concerned for [her] children, God undertakes also to nourish us throughout the course of our life.[1]
Just like a loving parent feeds her children from the day they are born, so in the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper. In the word proclaimed, God invites us to trust and follow Christ. At the font, God makes us part of God’s own family. In the meal, God feeds us with the food we need to grow. Christ is the food of our soul, the bread for our journey.
This bread and this cup are the visible signs that make real for us this spiritual truth, that we are nourished by the body and blood of Christ. This physical bread makes real and intelligible for our limited minds that tremendous mystery that we are fed by the Bread of Life. This wine, which is our tradition is non-alcoholic grape juice, makes tangible and tastable for our small capacity the infinite reality that we are nourished by the Cup of Salvation.
Fed by bread, we feast on the Bread of Life. Given juice, we are filled with the Cup of Salvation.
In the reading from Mark, we have a sense of the power of the physical and tangible presence of the living Christ that illumines for us something about the Communion meal. The gospel of Mark moves quickly, and just a little way into chapter one we are at the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry.
John the Baptist, who was baptizing people in the river, ominously has been arrested by the government of Rome. Into this dangerous context of powers, Jesus came proclaiming the gospel of God: “The time has arrived; the kingdom of God is upon you. Repent and believe the gospel.”
That is the word proclaimed. In a summary, it is still what the church and the followers of Jesus have to say. “It’s time! The Kingdom of God is here. Change your life. Believe the good news.” But Jesus did not leave it at that theoretical level of knowledge. He did not come proclaiming good information, he came proclaiming good news. Speech wedded to action; words with hands and feet attached.
As Jesus was walking by the Sea, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew at work casting nets in the lake, and he called to them: “Come, follow me, and I will make you fishers of people.” They heard a real voice. They saw a real person. The person they saw and the voice they heard spoke with such authority and promise, they left their nets at once and followed him.
A little further on, Jesus saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John in a boat mending their nets. He called to them. They heard a voice, they saw a person. The person they saw and the voice they heard spoke with such authority and promise they left their father in the boat – a stunning event in their lives and his – and they followed him.
He saw them, and they saw him. How did they see? It was physical. Light passed through the corneas, that clear front layer of the eye that bent the light to help the eye focus. The pupil allowed some of the light into the eyes. The light passed through the lens, and the lens – working with the cornea – focused the light correctly on the retina. When the light hit the retina, special cells called photoreceptors turned that light into electrical signals, which traveled along the optic nerve to the brain. When that nerve stimulated receptors in the brain, the brains translated that signal into image.
Jesus saw them, and they saw him standing on the shore across from their boat just as you see me standing here talking with you.[2]
They heard a voice. How did they hear? It was physical. Jesus’ lungs took in breath, and his diaphragm pushed the air across the vocal folds. The sound resonated in his chest and nasal and oral cavities, and the sound waves caused by the disturbance of the air made by the force of his breath reached their ears. The soundwaves reached their outer ear, and traveled through the ear canal, to the ear drum. The ear drum vibrated and sent those vibrations to the bones of the middle ear where they were amplified. Those vibrations traveled to the cochlea of the inner ear where the fluid of the cochlea vibrated the hair cells of the inner ear, which created an electrical signal. That electrical signal went along the auditory nerve to the brain, where it stimulated receptors. And the brain heard a sound that said, “Follow me.”[3]
It was physical. In Jesus’ body and in their bodies. The news that the kingdom of God had come became news for them. The call to follow became physical for them. Simon and Andrew got out of the boat and turned over the business and walked through the water to the shore. James and John kissed their father goodbye and wiped their tears and left the dock. This good news was not just head knowledge and heart knowledge. It was lived experience.
And so it is for us in the Lord’s Supper. In response to the good news proclaimed, we rise from our seats and straighten our clothes. We step into the aisle and walk with others up to the front. We put out our hand, the bread is torn, the fibers of gluten stretch, as one piece of the common loaf is separated out for us. We dip the bread in the cup, absorbing the liquid, and catching the drips, we take it into our mouths. The tart sweetness of the juice awakens our taste buds; the nutty flavor of the loaf awakens our hunger. Christ is not in the bread, but the bread is a Spirit-filled physical sign that Christ is here. Christ is not in the cup, but the cup is a Spirit-filled physical sign that God’s presence is here.
So, what is this like in the life of faith? Let me try to illustrate it for you. When I was out of college and trying to make a plan for life, I was looking for God’s voice and presence, and so I went on a silence and solitude retreat with other men at my church. I remember lots of journaling and walking in the woods and prayer, but my clearest memory is of communion. We were in an outdoor chapel, with a view over the mountains. God was present in many ways there, and had been in my prayer and journaling, but when the minister took the bread and said, “The body of Christ given for you,” God became very present to me. I was looking for God, and God was given to me. I took the bread and the cup and I found the near presence of Christ in that simple outdoor chapel.
As pastors and as elders and deacons, one of our great privileges is to share communion at home with members of the congregation. Sometimes people are hesitant to have home communion because they think of it like last rites. “We’d just like a visit, please.” But that’s not what home communion is.
When a pastor and an elder or deacon brings communion to your home or to a hospital room, it means we show up bearing Christ. We don’t just up with thoughts and prayers, we come with spiritual food, food that strengthens and sustains the soul. It’s like those people who hand out protein bars to runners during a marathon. Communion is spiritual food to run the race of faith, at every point along your journey.
The Presbyterian preacher and pastor Lloyd Ogilvie wrote, “Communion is the Word of God illustrated. [The Word of God illustrated.] It is visualized and directed to more than one of the senses in order that we might not merely hear the message of divine grace but also see and taste it. We eat and drink, which means we receive that by which we live. Just as bread is the nourishment of the body, Christ is the bread of the soul.”[4]
I see this happen here in our worship services when we come forward for the bread and cup. On any given Sunday, some of us come to this place spiritually starving. We are spinning with worries, buckling under grief, frozen with anxiety. We are wrestling with problems we can’t solve. We are concerned for others we can’t help. We are facing decisions we never imagined. We are looking for God’s help and presence and strength. This little bit of bread and juice won’t do much to strengthen your body, but it will fortify your soul. This is food from the One who calls you “Beloved child.”
Many of you know that I grew up in the Baptist church, and it is common in worship services in that tradition that there is an invitation at the end of each service to receive Christ. The hymn is sung, sometimes twice, and the minister stands at the front. The congregation is invited receive Christ into your heart by faith through prayer, and you’re supposed to go up and tell the minister that you’ve done this.
That’s what I was raised with, and when I first started attending Presbyterian churches, I was puzzled for a long time that there wasn’t an invitation like this to receive Christ. In fact, it was concerning because it seemed to me that receiving Christ is the heart of the whole thing. After a few years – I was slow on the uptake – it finally dawned on me that in our worship this happens in communion.
The minister stands and says come, receive Christ by faith. Except here you don’t have to squeeze your eyes tight and say a quiet prayer. Here you come down the aisle with your eyes open, with others, in the company of God’s people. Here you don’t have to reach out and hold onto Christ, as if the strength of your grip is what makes the difference. Here you come only with an empty hand and an open heart, and God will fill your hands and your heart with the bread of life.
Children of God, this is the where we are fed for the journey of faith. This is the feast of the people of God. Come, receive Christ by faith and find food for your journey.
Rev. Patrick W. T. Johnson, Ph.D.
First Presbyterian Church
Asheville, North Carolina
[1] John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, IV.17.1
[2] https://www.nei.nih.gov/learn-about-eye-health/healthy-vision/how-eyes-work
[3] https://www.nidcd.nih.gov/health/how-do-we-hear#:~:text=Sound%20waves%20enter%20the%20outer,malleus%2C%20incus%2C%20and%20stapes.
[4] Lloyd Ogilvie, The Cup of Wonder, p. 92