By H. Lynn Gardner

Certain events invite us to both look back and look forward—graduations, weddings, New Year’s Day. At these times we consider the significance of the past and anticipate the future. The Lord’s Supper is such an event.

“For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (1 Corinthians 11:26, English Standard Version).

When we worship through participation in Communion we look back to the cross. We are reminded of our sin that made Christ’s death necessary. As we remember the cross, we must face our unworthiness to receive God’s forgiveness and salvation. As we search our hearts and take inventory of our lives, we confess our sins and moral failures to the Lord.

Partaking of the cup of blessing prompts us to express thanks to God for blessing us with his grace and mercy. We realize our Lord is present with us in this meal and we personally acknowledge to him our gratitude for taking our place on the cross.

Each time we partake of the Lord’s Supper we look forward as well. We declare our confident expectation of Christ’s return to earth. Even though the second coming is a future event, it influences our present behavior. Speaking of our hope in Christ, John says, “Everyone who thus hopes in him purifies himself as he is pure” (1 John 3:3, ESV).

As we share the Communion meal today, we remember the past and anticipate the future and experience renewal in the present. The cross is not some dusty fact of history, but has dynamic present and future impact. We remember our Lord who died but is not dead. He lives and will return to earth to claim his own. We have a living hope because we have a living Lord. Paul wrote to the Thessalonians about Jesus’ second coming and observed that this hope will encourage us and build us up (1 Thessalonians 4:18; 5:11).

Lynn Gardner is a retired Bible college professor and academic dean.

By C. Robert Wetzel

“We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans” (Romans 8:26).

We often find our congregations preparing for the Lord’s Supper with an appropriate Communion hymn followed by a meditation that enables us to focus on the meaning of this sacred event. This is followed by what some call the “words of institution,” such as the words of the apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians 11:23-26. The presiding elder then offers a prayer of blessing over the bread and cup.

As we partake, we focus our thoughts with thanksgiving on the sacrifice of our Lord Jesus Christ and the new life he has given us through our baptism (Romans 6:4). But then comes a time of personal prayer, as others are being served, when we can pour out our hearts to God. It can be a time of bringing the week’s concerns . . . or joys . . . before the Lord. There may well be times when we feel so overwhelmed we do not know how to pray. Granted, there are some concerns for which we know exactly how to pray. If it is the sickness of our child, we are going to pray for healing. If a relative or friend is beginning a journey, we pray for traveling mercies. But there may be other problems, be they personal or in our families or in the workplace, or even in the church, that are so confusing we just do not know how to pray. All we can do is groan . . . inwardly. But it is at this point that the Holy Spirit himself steps in and “intercedes for us through wordless groans.”

Not only are we groaning, the Holy Spirit is groaning! With this assurance, we can simply pray, Lord, will you, in your wisdom and power, be at work in this distressing situation. And please let me know what I am to do . . . if anything!

C. Robert Wetzel is chancellor at Emmanuel Christian Seminary, Johnson City, Tennessee. 

By C. Robert Wetzel

Glory to God in the highest!

Coming to the Lord’s table is an occasion to celebrate the glory of God and the promise of our participation in his glory. Traditionally we have often sung in preparation for the Lord’s Supper, “In the Cross of Christ I Glory.” More recently it may be, “Lord, I Lift Your Name on High.” But every Lord’s Day we are reminded in a special way of God’s power, majesty, and love.

How extraordinary that the God who created all things should reveal himself in the person of Jesus Christ! How glorious that the Word who became flesh should redeem fallen humankind through his sacrifice on the cross!

True, in our day-to-day experience there are persons or occasions that deserve recognition. As the apostle Paul says, “Honor to whom honor is due.” We celebrate the achievement of our children in many ways as they grow to adulthood. We have many national memorials that recognize the sacrifice of those who have given their lives in the service of their country. And, yes, we may even sound somewhat delirious when the home team wins a football or basketball game.

But over and above our earthly celebrations is the majestic glory of God who was in Christ Jesus reconciling the world to himself. As much as we may enjoy receiving an achievement plaque, its significance is lost in the brightness of God’s glory.

Coming to the Lord’s table is a reminder that our ultimate citizenship is in Heaven and that “we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body” (Philippians 3:20, 21). Talk about glory! Glory to God in the highest who is still at work in his creation transforming us as his body, the church!

And now as we prepare to eat the bread, we are reminded of our participation in his body. And as we drink the cup, we can sing in our hearts, “Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise” (Revelation 5:12).

C. Robert Wetzel is chancellor at Emmanuel Christian Seminary, Johnson City, Tennessee. 

By C. Robert Wetzel

“We believe that Jesus died and rose again” (1 Thessalonians 4:14).

In a very real sense, participating in the Lord’s Supper is preaching. Preaching is proclamation. The apostle Paul tells us, “For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (1 Corinthians 11:26). And thus we are proclaiming to the world what we first confessed when we came to Christ, “I believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God.”

There are at least three ways the Lord’s Supper may be proclamation.

It may be a reaffirmation of our own faith. There are likely times when we come to the Lord’s table with doubts and fears. It may have been one of those weeks in which nothing seemed to go right or make sense. Then we come to the Lord’s table and we hear the words, “This is my body given for you.” And we hear the proclamation anew that first penetrated our hearts when we came to Christ: “God became flesh in Jesus Christ and gave himself for my salvation.” We hear the words, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.” Once again we realize that through the sacrifice of our Lord Jesus Christ we are a part of the body of Christ. And then as we eat the bread and drink the cup we affirm anew, “Yes, I do believe that Jesus is the Christ. It is he who makes sense of the difficulties and confusions that confront me.”

There is also proclamation to the body of believers who gather together to participate in the Lord’s Supper. It happens when we hear the words, “Because there is one loaf, we, who are many, are one body, for we all partake of the one loaf” (1 Corinthians 10:17). I am reminded that as much as Communion may be an individual experience between God and me, it is also a community activity; it is an affirmation of my participation in the whole body of Christ. Not only do I believe that Jesus is “my personal Savior,” I believe I am a part of the whole body of Christ, the church, wherever and whenever it gathers.

Nonbelievers have often found the church’s participation in the Lord’s Supper curious if not downright strange. And yet every time the church gathers for this sacred occasion we proclaim to the unbelieving world the message of salvation: “God’s love was revealed to you through the sacrificial death of his Son, Jesus Christ.” We are saying, “We believe! Come join us in this faith that leads to life and life eternal.”

Hence when I say at the Lord’s table, “I believe,” I am saying it to myself, and as a congregation we are saying it to each other, while all the time we are proclaiming our faith to the world.

C. Robert Wetzel is chancellor at Emmanuel Christian Seminary, Johnson City, Tennessee. 

By C. Robert Wetzel

“The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ?” (1 Corinthians 10:16, King James Version).

There are so many rich meanings and experiences in the Lord’s Supper! When the apostle Paul spoke of the “cup of blessing” he used a term that had a special meaning for those who understood Jewish dinner tradition. At the end of a Jewish meal the most honored guest at the table took the cup, lifted it up, and said the benediction. Today when we talk of the benediction we probably think of the “closing prayer” to an occasion of worship. But, of course, the English word benediction is simply derived from the Latin word meaning “blessing.”

It is a powerful picture. When we come to the Lord’s table a prayer of blessing is prayed for the cup that we are about to drink. But at the same time we know we are going to be blessed in our drinking of the cup—that somehow we are communing with or participating in the blood of Christ.

I am reminded once again that his blood was shed for me, and that somehow I must be willing to participate in his ongoing sacrifice. It may be as simple as being reminded that some of the difficulties I am experiencing are not occasions of self-pity or resentment. Rather, they are a part of what it means to serve Christ. His blood not only saves me from my past sins, it sustains me in the service I give him. And therefore, rather than being drained by the service I give, I am blessed.

The notion of blessing also carries with it an act of thanksgiving. Hence some translations of 1 Corinthians 10:16 speak of “the cup of thanksgiving for which we give thanks.” It is from this understanding that some Christian traditions refer to the Lord’s Supper as the Eucharist, an English word that is derived from the Greek word for “thanksgiving.” We give thanks for the cup because it is a constant reminder of what Christ has done for us.

We have often been reminded at Easter that for Christians every Lord’s Day is an occasion to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus. We could also say that every Lord’s Day is Thanksgiving. It is an occasion to give thanks and be thankful. It is an occasion to bless and be blessed. And this is why it is a benediction, a blessing that sends us back to our daily responsibilities with a renewed sense of being a part of the body of Christ.

C. Robert Wetzel is chancellor at Emmanuel Christian Seminary, Johnson City, Tennessee. 

By C. Robert Wetzel

“Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise!” (Revelation 5:12).

How strange it must have seemed to pagans when Christians described Jesus as the Lamb of God! This would be especially true when they heard Jesus described as the Word who was with God and who was God and who became flesh in Jesus Christ. God, a lamb? If the pagan were to use an animal metaphor to describe God, he would certainly choose some powerful animal whose image would strike terror in its worshipers.

Malcolm Muggeridge, the English skeptic, was only along the road to faith when he wrote Jesus Rediscovered. He tells about spending time at a Cistercian abbey. After a Communion service he went for a walk on a hill above the abbey. It was lambing season, and as he saw the young lambs frisking about he thought,

. . . words I had just heard—Agnus Dei—echoed in my mind. What a terrific moment in history that was, I reflected, when men first saw their God in the likeness of the weakest, mildest, and most defenseless of all living creatures!

I dare say that when he came to recognize Jesus was in fact God incarnate, he might have put it differently. After all, the historical event was God revealing himself, not humans discovering him. But the wonder is still there in his recognition. It was a terrific time in history when God revealed himself in the likeness of the weakest, mildest, and most defenseless of all living creatures: a lamb. Yes, the Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world!

Although Jesus’ countrymen would have understood the imagery of the sacrificial lamb, they did not seem to associate their understanding of the promised Messiah with a lamb. Rather he was to be the Lion of Judah, the military chieftain who would restore Israel to the independence and glory of the reigns of David and Solomon.

As it turned out Jesus was paradoxically both the Lamb of God and the Lion of Judah. In his death he would be the sacrificial Lamb that takes away our sin, and in his resurrection he would be the Lion King who conquers death and who rules as head of the church until all things come under submission to him.

In the Lord’s Supper we celebrate both the forgiveness we have received through the sacrificial death of Christ and our new citizenship as members of his body, the church, the redeemed of God who will reign with him for ever and ever. Amen!

C. Robert Wetzel is chancellor at Emmanuel Christian Seminary, Johnson City, Tennessee. 

By Tom Lawson

Have you ever missed Communion?

Since ancient times Christians have not wanted to miss Communion. In ad 152, Justin Martyr, in describing a Christian worship service, noted the deacons took the elements of Communion to those who were too sick to attend.

As unfortunate as it is when we miss Communion, can you imagine how much worse it would be if Jesus decided not to be there? The bread would be there and it would taste no different than usual. Same with the cup. The prayers would sound the same. In fact, an outside observer might notice little difference. But, tragically, it would be a meal in which the host declined to be present.

“Impossible,” you might say. “Jesus would never miss Communion.”

I’m not so sure.

In his last letter dictated to the apostle John, the one written to the church at Laodicea (Revelation 3:14-21), Jesus appears to suggest such was exactly the case. This church, which seemed to have quite a positive image of itself as a congregation, receives the harshest of Jesus’ criticisms in these brief letters (Revelation 2 and 3).

Their central failure was not gross immorality or crass idolatry, but self-satisfied complacency. “You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind, and naked” (Revelation 3:17).

Then Jesus urges them to acknowledge their true condition. If they do, he promises, he will bring healing and renewal. It is in this context that he speaks the familiar appeal that he is standing at the door knocking. “If anyone hears my voice and opens the door I will come in.”

If Jesus’ words ended there, it would be a powerful promise. But carefully read the end of his sentence: “. . . and eat with him, and he with me” (Revelation 3:20).

Any believer in the ancient church would have understood this as a picture of breaking bread with Jesus. This was the very heart of Communion. The church “at table” with Jesus. These words spoken, not to a wayward sinner, but to a church that had, somehow, managed to close the door and leave Jesus himself on the outside.

“Open the door,” he pleads. “Acknowledge your spiritual poverty and hunger, and I will not miss Communion with you any more.”

Did anyone hear someone knocking?

Tom Lawson is a professor at Ozark Christian College in Joplin, Missouri.

By Tom Lawson

“For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Corinthians 1:18).

What could be more foolish than Communion—a little bread and grape juice or wine through which we are invited to experience Christ? Perhaps the only thing more foolish is saving the world with some wood, a few nails, and torn, bleeding flesh.

We like to make the chasm between the spiritual and the physical as clear as the difference between day and night. The unseen spiritual is all “up there” somewhere or inside our hearts—by which we never mean the muscle circulating blood. The spiritual is so separate we sometimes think of the two as opposing ideas. Spiritual equals good. Physical equals bad. Spiritual is about God. Physical is about secular, earthly things.

It is no wonder many believers find a good musical presentation about the cross, especially if accompanied by video, far more moving than eating small bits of bread and drinking a tiny amount of juice. After all, during the music our hearts, that unseen inside part of us, can be moved to reach out toward the equally unseen Spirit of God. Some suggest we skip the actual bread and cup, or at least incorporate them into a nice musical presentation.

Paul reminds us, however, that what seems like foolishness may be the wisdom and power of God. That actual crucifixion of Jesus had no moving music and lasted a grueling six hours. Wood, nails, and flesh stood there in visible reality. Yet God did something beyond understanding. I don’t think those watching actually felt it. I’m sure they didn’t understand it. But, there it was. Right in front of them. As clear as the difference between day and night, God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself.

In Communion, God is also doing something we may not always feel and will likely never fully understand. If the difference between spiritual and physical is like the difference between day and night, Communion is the merging of both. Communion, with the wood, nails, and flesh of Calvary, is the physical acting as a conduit for the spiritual.

Bread. Body. Cup. Blood. Communion. Christ.

Tom Lawson is a professor at Ozark Christian College in Joplin, Missouri.

By Ron Davis

One of the curious elements of the Passover Jesus shared with his apostles in the upper room, as recorded in Luke 22:14-20, is the comment, “he gave thanks.” Thanks? For what exactly? Jesus is hours away from being arrested, cruelly abused, and murdered in humiliation. And he knows it full well. Thanks! For what?

For the material elements themselves? A simple “loaf” of unleavened bread, the commonest of food, better suited to fill a stomach than to nourish. The drinkable juice of a plant that grew clusters so large and plentiful and of which some shriveled on the vine or fell to the ground unharvested for lack of need and interest?

Why, “Yes!” Of course. As we are often reminded in the Scriptures: Every good and perfect gift comes down from above! That bread and that juice represent all the wonderful things of the earth—all the food and drink—that we need and enjoy. All are gifts from God and worthy of thanksgiving.

Were his words thanks for the memories elicited by those elements?

Bob Hope sang, “Thanks for the Memories” to countless thousands. (Did he ever recall those occasions he had looked into the faces of young men and women who might well be within a few hours or days of sacrificing themselves for the one-time ideals of a nation?)

Why, “Yes!” Of course. For the Jews, memories of Passover were to be goaded by the sharp stick of an annual celebration. God has delivered his people from bondage of cruel Egyptians who think them to be property. Lest we forget . . . we are here to remember. And for us it is a weekly remembrance, much more suited to our greater deliverance, deliverance from the bondage of sin itself!

Yet there are events related to those elements that have not yet occurred at the occasion of Luke 22. Jesus’ body has not yet been broken; his blood has not yet been shed. We have the greater, the richer memories.

Were Jesus’ words thanks for the meaning of the whole occasion?

Would this be the same as when the children of Hebrew families at Passover asked, “What mean ye by this service?” (Exodus 12:26, King James Version). Perhaps, the better translation of that verse is in the New International Version, “What does this ceremony mean to you?” (author’s emphasis).

So, here I stand—the child at your table—asking, “What does this mean to you?”

Are you here with thanksgiving?

For the material elements?

For the memories?

For the meaning?

Our answer must be, “Yes! Of course!”

Ron Davis is a retired teacher and active member of LifeSpring Christian Church in Cincinnati, Ohio, where he is privileged to lead Communion meditations regularly.

By Ronald G. Davis

The Passover of the Hebrew people was inextricably tied to the shedding of blood. How many thousands of Egypt’s firstborn sons had to die to free the Hebrews from their bondage? And how many young and innocent lambs and goats became a hurried meal of roasted flesh? How many gallons of their blood became the blessed stripes on doorjambs and door frames? Exodus 11 and 12 describe the wonderfully awful and bloody events of that solemn and deadly night of redemption.

The Passover when Jesus gathered his devoted—and not-so-devoted—12 friends and disciples in the upper room served the centuries-long purpose: to remind God’s people they were saved by blood! For the ones reclining at the table around Jesus, they were about to face the prophetic reality of all that bloodshed. They would see the blood of the Lamb of God spattered from Roman hall, slowly dripped across the streets of the once holy city, and run down a crude cross onto Golgotha’s stony ground.

Redemption is inextricably tied to the shedding of blood. The biblical writer said it bluntly and profoundly: “The law requires that nearly everything be cleansed with blood, and without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness” (Hebrews 9:22).

Now, cleansing forgiveness no longer requires thousands of firstborn sons—Egyptian or other. It does not require the sacrifice of a single innocent animal, “we have been made holy”—cleansed, that is; forgiven, that is—“through the sacrifice of the body of Jesus Christ once for all” (Hebrews 10:10). One firstborn Son, one “Jesus Christ . . . God, the One and Only” (John 1:17, 18)—he is all that is needed.

His flesh and blood, here represented by the bread and the cup, is all we need. That truth should have us on our feet daily announcing, as the old hymn did, “Redeemed, how I love to proclaim it!”

Cleansed and forgiven! Let us start here . . . at this table. Let us start now . . . in this hour of worship.

________________

Ron Davis, former professor of Christian education at Cincinnati Bible Seminary, resides in North College Hill, Ohio, and serves with Lifespring Christian Church.

By Ronald G. Davis

On the same occasion Jesus put in place this memory meal, he prayed fervently for the unity of those who would assemble around his table. Sadly, this table has often divided those “who believe in him,” the ones for whom he prayed (John 17:20).

Churches have had significant and insignificant disputes about the Lord’s table. There have been disputes over who should be at the table. Over which believers should be present. Over what the emblems should look like. Over how often the emblems should be available. Over such small matters as to when in the worship hour the celebration should be made.

But, every assembly for the bread and the cup must be a focused call for the unity of believers. The basic doctrines of Christianity cry out here: “Incarnation!” and “Sacrificial Atonement!” Jesus, God of creation, became flesh and blood—flesh and blood that would be given freely for the redemption of all people from their sins. That is the unifying truth.

We all share the weaknesses of being flesh and blood, the weakness of decay and death. But thanks be to God for his unfathomable gift for which our words are inadequate: there is life, eternal life, in Christ Jesus. For all who believe that he is the Christ, that he came in the flesh, that he willingly died for us, this table unites.

To sit here, to partake here, is to reaffirm our faith, our unifying faith. To sit here, to partake here is to continue to demonstrate our submission to his lordship. He has said, “Do this!” and so we do. Here we identify with all those who have confessed their faith in him. Here we recognize our unity of faith, the lordship of Christ.

Let no one quibble about who should or should not be here. Let no one quarrel over the manner in which the emblems are presented. Let no one fuss about the placement of these acts in the whole series of worship elements. Let all—in the spirit of unity—affirm loudly: “We believe that Jesus is God’s Christ incarnate and our only redemption and salvation!” And with that affirmation, we partake.

________________

Ron Davis, former professor of Christian education at Cincinnati Bible Seminary, resides in North College Hill, Ohio, and serves with Lifespring Christian Church.

By Ronald G. Davis

Because of varying details in the four Gospel accounts, scholars disagree over whether Judas was still present in the upper room when Jesus called for a new bread-and-cup occasion, a new Passover meaning. But we know Judas was there long enough to be given one last, gracious opportunity to repent (see John 13:18-30).

When Jesus said, “The one to whom I will give . . . ,” it was Judas’s fingers and thumb that grasped the sop, a grasping motion that characterized his lifestyle controlled by greed, not grace. Each who comes to this table with Jesus has the Judas choice: to repent and say, “Lord, I am deeply sorry for my sin,” or to say, “Excuse me, while I go out to sin some more!”

Judas cared so little for Jesus’ well being, he saw only money signs—“What is he worth?” Well, that is the question that is answered here at this table. “What is he worth?” Is he worthy of devotion? Worthy of obedience? Worthy of repentance? Will we sit quietly, repentantly, or are we in a hurry to “get out and get on with life”? Do we make the Judas choice? He repented . . . but too late. Jesus died because of Judas’s sin, and he died for Judas’s sin. Then, sadly, Judas died unnecessarily for his own sin, at his own hand.

Those are the choices: die for one’s own sin or allow Christ’s death to be a personal atonement for one’s sin.

Judas sits here at this table. And Satan stands ready to jump in as lord of the unrepentant life. Which Lord will you choose here as your own?

When Jesus says, “I tell you the truth, one of you will betray me—one who is eating with me” (Mark 14:18), the only question I can ask, the only one you can ask: “Is it I?” For Judas the answer rang clearly, “Yes, it is!” What is Jesus’ answer to me? He is my Lord . . . or he is not. Here, I give my confession; here I give my answer.

_________________

Ron Davis, former professor of Christian education at Cincinnati Bible Seminary, resides in North College Hill, Ohio, and serves with Lifespring Christian Church.

By Ronald G. Davis

Turning points sometimes come in a roar. Turning points sometimes come in a whisper.

In modern history the roar was heard in the deathly din of D-Day. And the course of modern human history was changed.

In biblical history, the whisper was heard by Elijah when he had fled in cowardice from an interloper in the messianic line. God called him with “a still small voice” to return to his ministry in the court of kings. And the course of Israel’s history was redirected toward a Messiah.

John 6 pictures just such a dramatic turning point. The roar is heard. Thousands gather with the excited buzz of those who think they have found what they have long awaited, a Messiah to resolve all their earthly woes. Fascinated by possibility (and later, food), they seemed eager to hear the words of Jesus. Yet, soon, the whisper of one friend to another might be overheard: “This is just too hard. Let’s go home!” And the crowd thinned drastically, for “from this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him” (John 6:66).

Jesus’ teaching about himself and one’s relationship with him had echoed over those Galilean hillsides and across the waters of the sea. And it had set the heads of many to a ringing confusion. “Bread of life? Come down from heaven? How can one find and eat that?” “His body and his blood? What could that possibly mean?” “That just boggles my mind. I am a simple uneducated peasant. I’m going home!”

And we have come to his table. To ponder his body, his blood. And our minds are aswirl with confusion. We do not fully understand. We do not completely comprehend. But this we know: Jesus died for our sins. He is the risen Lord. So we have come to obey his words: “Do this to remember me!”

We can always walk away like some mentally lazy Galilean. Or we can simply say, “Yes, Lord, whatever you say!” Away from the roar of daily life. Here where we hear him whisper, “I love you.” Here where the body and blood of Christ are the clearest to us, we eat. And our personal histories are redirected to the life in Christ, the life spiritual.

Ron Davis, former professor of Christian education at Cincinnati Bible Seminary, resides in North College Hill, Ohio, and serves with Lifespring Christian Church.

By Tom Ellsworth

I would be hard-pressed to list my favorite meal. Some days I long for the time when I ate at my grandparents’ table and enjoyed a dinner of speckled butter beans, corn bread, and homemade apple pie. Simple fare, to be sure, but few meals ever tasted better. On the other side of the menu spectrum, I have occasionally dined in upscale restaurants on scrumptious treats that my grandparents never tasted. Those, too, were memorable meals.

To say the least, there is considerable contrast between the simple and exquisite meals I’ve enjoyed through the years. However, I know of only one meal where such a vivid contrast is experienced at the same time. When we meet with the Lord at his table, it is unlike any other dining experience in life.

The Lord’s Supper is simple; and yet, deeply profound. It is personal, as if I am the only one participating; and yet, it is universal, precious to every Christian around the globe. It looks back across the ravages of time; and yet, it looks forward to when time will be no more. It is a picture of tragic death; and yet, it is a proclamation of triumphant life. It is not expensive to provide; and yet, it was so very costly to purchase. The food is that of a poor man, just a bite of bread and a sip of juice; and yet, never has so extravagant a meal ever been served. We who are many become as one body when we take it together; and yet, when we take it together, I must focus only on his body broken for me.

When our sin is forgiven, the Lord assures us he always forgets it; but we must always remember how such forgiveness is made possible. No wonder Jesus said, “Do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:19).

• We who are imperfect take the Lord’s Supper to remember a perfect lamb, without spot or blemish.

• We who are sinful take the Lord’s Supper to remember a sinless substitute who became our Savior.

• We who are perishable take the Lord’s Supper to remember an imperishable promise from an eternal God.

• We who were lost take the Lord’s Supper to remember the One who found us.

• We who are in the land of the dying take the Lord’s Supper to remember the only One who can usher us into the land of the living.

On second thought, I do have a favorite meal! We are invited to it weekly by the One who loves us more than life itself.

________________

Tom Ellsworth ministers with Sherwood Oaks Christian Church in Bloomington, Indiana. His latest book, Inverted, is available at www.standardpub.com.

By Tom Ellsworth

On July 30, 1945, just after midnight, the heavy cruiser USS Indianapolis was torpedoed while en route from Guam to the Leyte Gulf in the Philippians. The resulting explosions so damaged the cruiser that it sank in only 12 minutes. Amazingly, nearly 900 crew members made it into the water. Since the Indianapolis was unable to radio a distress signal, no one knew to look for the ship until it didn’t arrive in port. Consequently, after it was determined the Indianapolis was missing, no one knew where to look for survivors—if indeed there were any.

The shark attacks began the morning after the sinking, and the bloody death toll began to rise. The dwindling number of survivors had been in the water for 96 hours when Lt. Wilbur Gwinn, while on a routine test flight in his Lockheed Ventura, spotted the men and immediately radioed for help. He and his crew dropped all available items that might aid the struggling survivors in the water, and continued to circle until a Navy PBY seaplane appeared. Within hours other naval vessels arrived to aid in the rescue.

A few days later, Gwinn stopped by the naval hospital to see the survivors. Of the 900 crewmen who had entered the water, only 316 lived through the ordeal. When Gwinn entered the hospital ward he was introduced with these words, “Boys, here’s the guy who found you!” Cheers rose from every bed. Gwinn, who was deeply moved, noted it was the most treasured moment of his life.

Gwinn died in 1993, but the remaining few Indianapolis survivors continue to meet annually, and they never forget the one who found them when they were hopelessly lost at sea.

Jesus said, “For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost” (Luke 19:10). We spiritual survivors gather around the Lord’s table weekly to remember. Let the bread and cup point you to the One who found you when you were hopelessly lost in sin. And let this simple memorial be a reminder that when you found him, it was the most treasured moment of your life!

________________

Tom Ellsworth serves as minister with Sherwood Oaks Christian Church in Bloomington, Indiana. His latest book, Inverted, is available at www.standardpub.com.

By Tom Ellsworth

At the time many condescendingly referred to it as “Seward’s Folly”—because U.S. Secretary of State William H. Seward brokered the deal and was its biggest promoter—but the purchase of Alaska from Russia was anything but foolish. Rich in gold, copper, and oil, its value has far exceeded the 1867 purchase price of 2 cents per acre.

Part of this grand acquisition (twice the size of Texas) is a tiny island with a big story. Only 2.8 square miles in size, Little Diomede Island rises out of the water in the middle of the Bering Strait and is home to 147 residents. With a name like Little Diomede, you might suppose there is a Big Diomede Island, and you would be right. Less than three miles to the west lies the larger island. Theoretically, not much separates these two islands, but these two dots of land are truly worlds apart. Big Diomede Island is the easternmost point of Russia, therefore:

• The islands belong to two very distinct nations.

• The islands are located on two separate continents.

• The inhabitants speak two different languages and celebrate two diverse cultures.

And yet for all of that, there is one greater distinction. The international date line runs between Little Diomede Island in the United States and Big Diomede Island in Russia. What’s the big deal, you ask? Being separated by the international date line means that for a few hours the residents of Big Diomede are a day ahead on the calendar. Do you realize how unique that is? On a clear day, you could stand on the hill of Little Diomede, look across that channel of water to the coast of Big Diomede, and see tomorrow!

During the first century, many in Jerusalem considered the story of an empty tomb the “Apostle’s Folly.” We know better. The heartbreak of the cross was followed by the incredible news of Jesus Christ’s resurrection.

Theoretically, not much separates these two events—just three days—but from another perspective, these two events are truly worlds apart. One was shrouded in tears, the other overflowed with joy. One paid the wage for our past behavior while the other paved the way for our future blessings.

Incredibly, we celebrate both when we come to the Lord’s Supper. I’m grateful for Paul’s insight, “For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (1 Corinthians 11:26, author’s emphasis). During Communion, we don’t just reflect on the tragedy, we also proclaim his triumph. You can stand on the hill of Calvary, look across the channel of time to the coast of Heaven, and see tomorrow!

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Tom Ellsworth ministers with Sherwood Oaks Christian Church in Bloomington, Indiana. His latest book, Inverted, is available at www.standardpub.com.

By Robert F. Hull Jr.

The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a sharing in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a sharing in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread (1 Corinthians 10:16, 17).*

In some traditions, the person who hands the worshippers the Communion bread says, “This is the body of Christ.”

This body language naturally leads us to think about the body of Jesus given in death on the cross. But perhaps we should also think about what Jesus did with his body during his ministry.

He reached out to touch the sick and forsaken. He lifted up the children and sat them on his lap to bless them. He overturned the tables of the moneychangers in the temple. He stooped down to wash the feet of the disciples. He said, “The Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve” (Mark 10:45).

Perhaps we “share” in the body of Christ not only when we enjoy the benefits of his death, but also when we take on his likeness by serving with our bodies as Jesus did with his.

But there is more to Paul’s body language in this text. To the Corinthian Christians, who were argumentative and factious, Paul reminded them that, because they all ate of the one loaf, they constituted one body. What a startling reminder to us!

If my favorite pronoun is me, my body language will show it by my selfish desire to be served, rather than to serve, to have my own way, rather than to seek what is best for the whole church.

Paul later wrote, “Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it” (1 Corinthians 12:27). He thus sought to turn the Corinthians’ attention from dissension to union, from the “me” of little groups and factions to the “we” of the one body.

“This is the body of Christ.”

“You are the body of Christ.”

May the Lord teach us again and again the body language of his table.

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*All Scripture verses are from the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible.

Robert F. Hull Jr. is a retired professor of New Testament at Emmanuel Christian Seminary, Johnson City, Tennessee.

By Robert F. Hull Jr.

In the closing of his letter to the church at Philippi, Paul includes this surprising note: “All God’s people here send you greetings, especially those who belong to Caesar’s household” (Philippians 4: 22).

What? There are followers of Christ in the emperor’s household? The same Caesar who is holding Paul in prison and who will eventually see to it that Paul is executed? Talk about a clash of kingdoms!

Both Jesus and Paul were acutely aware there could be no merger of the kingdom of God and the kingdoms of this world, but neither could there be a tidy division. Jesus’ shrewd instruction in Luke 20:25 to “give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s” carried the unspoken premise that all things belong to God. He later said to Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight” (John 18:36). Paul wrote the Philippians, “Our citizenship is in heaven” (Philippians 3:20).

We all need a healthy sense of perspective about government, human and divine. Empires rise and fall; all human governments, from dictatorships to democracies, are deeply flawed and unworthy of our ultimate allegiance. At the same time, one can be a citizen of the kingdom of God despite the political realities under which one lives.

Jerry Eng, who serves the Gospel of Christ in Malaysia, knows he could die for preaching the message of Jesus, but every Sunday he gathers the faithful under the cross and around the table to share a simple meal anticipating the eventual triumph of the reign of God. When we eat this bread and drink this cup, we signal our allegiance to the true kingdom and the true king.

Prayer: To you, O King, we bow in grateful surrender, yielding ourselves to your service. We earnestly pray that our way of life might be worthy of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Unite us at this table with all our brothers and sisters around the world. Strengthen those who lift up the cross at the risk of their freedom and even their lives. May the bread and wine they and we consume be a foretaste of that feast to come, when the kingdoms of this world have crumbled and only the kingdom of God will stand. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

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Robert F. Hull Jr. is retired professor of New Testament, emeritus, at Emmanuel Christian Seminary in Johnson City, Tennessee.

By Robert F. Hull Jr.

In the Gospel of John, the people who were fed by Jesus chased after him the next day to Capernaum, across the Sea of Galilee. Jesus said to them “You are looking for me, not because you saw the signs I performed but because you ate the loaves and had your fill. Do not work for food that spoils, but for food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you” (John 6:26, 27). The point of Jesus’ miraculous feeding of the crowds was not simply that he could multiply loaves and fish and satisfy physical hunger. As the Gospels indicate, the act was a “sign,” a pointer to Jesus’ ability to satisfy the deeper hungers of the human heart. Bread goes stale, gets hard, has a short shelf life, and as Jesus said, “spoils.”

Obesity is a major problem in the United States, and yet the well fed can still stand in front of a full refrigerator looking for something to eat. Often the real problem is not hunger, but boredom, loneliness, dissatisfaction, purposelessness—in short, emptiness. Again and again the Scriptures tell us that having more “stuff,” whether more “toys” or more food, won’t fill our emptiness.

In the wilderness, the Israelites constantly complained to God for more and better food. The psalmist writes, “He gave them their request; but sent leanness into their soul” (Psalm 106:15, King James Version; other translations read “sent a wasting disease among them”). Jesus insisted there is only one bread that truly satisfies: “The bread of God is the bread that comes down from heaven and gives life to the world” (John 6:33). No wonder the crowd then responded, “Sir, . . . always give us this bread” (v, 34),

We have come to this table, not because we are hungry for a little piece of bread and a tiny glass of grape juice, but because we desperately need “the bread which comes down from heaven, which anyone may eat and not die” (John 6:50).

Prayer: O Lord, with the crowds by the Sea of Galilee, we say, “Always give us this bread.” Bless now this bread we break, this cup we drink. As we take them by faith, may we feast in our hearts on him who is the living bread and the true vine. Amen.

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Robert F. Hull Jr. is retired professor of New Testament, emeritus, at Emmanuel Christian Seminary in Johnson City, Tennessee.

By Robert F. Hull Jr.

Some of Jesus’ dinner companions are a bit surprising. Early in his ministry he ate with a large group of tax collectors and sinners (Mark 2:15). Once when he was at dinner with a Pharisee, a woman of the city known to be a sinner came into the house and made a spectacle of herself—and Jesus (Luke 7:36-50). Even the disciples at the last supper were not models for us to emulate. Some of them began to argue about who among them would be greatest in the kingdom; Peter was told that he would shortly deny Jesus (Mark 14:29-30). Judas was there, too, at the table with Jesus.

And now we’re here at the Lord’s table. What kind of dinner companions are we? Sometimes faithless, sometimes proud, sometimes lustful, sometimes cruel, sometimes clueless about what discipleship entails. Maybe that’s why for hundreds of years many Christians have included in their corporate worship a general confession of sins. We know, in the words of The Book of Common Prayer, that “we have sinned against thee in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone.” We know that “we have not loved thee with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves.”

If we look around us (or beside us) we might see someone to whom we have said an angry word or otherwise wronged in some way. We might wish we could be at peace with all our fellow communicants. Maybe that’s why for hundreds of years many Christians have included in their corporate worship an opportunity to offer the “peace of Christ” to their neighbors just prior to taking the bread and cup.

Let us come to the table today asking for forgiveness and knowing that Jesus welcomes us and promises that, if we confess our sins, he will cleanse us from our unrighteousness and offer us his peace.

Prayer: God of grace and compassion, listen now to the confessions of our hearts as we remember our unfaithfulness, the ways our sins render us most unfit companions of Jesus. Heal and forgive, we pray, by the wounds and pains of our Lord. Bless this bread and cup, that by them we may be nourished and strengthened to leave behind our old ways and follow more faithfully our Lord, in whose name we pray. Amen.

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Robert F. Hull Jr. is retired professor of New Testament, emeritus, at Emmanuel Christian Seminary in Johnson City, Tennessee.