#freebreadandwine

Nadia Bolz-Weber, founding pastor of House for All Sinners and Saints created a wonderful hashtag on Twitter the other day. 

Two ideas caught my attention. 

The first is the idea that “we basically just let anyone show up”. Biblically we are commanded to show a certain amount discipline around the Eucharist. 

“So then, whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord. Everyone ought to examine themselves before they eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For those who eat and drink without discerning the body of Christ eat and drink judgment on themselves.”

- 1 Corinthians 11:27-29 TNIV


The early Church fathers also had significant discussions about the need for order around the Eucharist. Much of the discussion focused on what it meant to be “unworthy” to receive. In Sermon 227, Saint Augustine said: 

“What is receiving unworthily? Receiving with contempt, receiving with derision. Don’t let yourselves think that what you can see is of no account. What you can see passes away, but the invisible reality signified does not pass away, but remains. Look, it’s received, it’s eaten, it’s consumed. Is the body of Christ consumed, is the Church of Christ consumed, are the members of Christ consumed? Perish the thought! Here they are being purified, there they will be crowned with the victor’s laurels. So what is signified will remain eternally, although the thing that signifies it seems to pass away. So receive the sacrament in such a way that you think about yourselves, that you retain unity in your hearts, that you always fix your hearts up above. Don’t let your hope be placed on earth, but in heaven. Let your faith be firm in God, let it be acceptable to God. Because what you don’t see now, but believe, you are going to see there, where you will have joy without end.”

There is a beautiful reality that Augustine points us to in these words. The Eucharist is not just a momentary experience but a sacrament of heaven, a physical way in which we experience what our eternity will be like - one of being entirely consumed by God. 

Augustine might then argue that “being unworthy” has less to do with offending God, or even “ruining” eucharist, and more to do with an unknown or unwilling person entirely missing the point of what could easily be a life changing experience. 

This is for good reason. The Eucharist is at the center of our life with God and it deserves to be protected from dilution or distortion. 

However if protected “too” much, the Eucharist ironically will fall into danger. 

Think of the Church that decides communion will “mean less” if they do it “more often”, so they decide to share the Eucharist every month, or quarter, or year - which then misses the point of this liturgical sacrament which is meant to be repeated and shared often, essentially integrated into your regular life. 

Or the Church that decides it would be better to not even risk having “unbelievers” receive communion, therefore only the most committed are allowed and those who are new to faith or new to the Church are turned away from this grace of God. 

This leads me to the second thing which caught my attention, the wonderful hashtag #freebreadandwine

Yes, we should protect the Eucharist. The early church had to install what we now call “communion rails” so that dogs would stop eating the bread. If we give people a bite of bread and then a sip of wine and say “Surprise! You just received communion” We are no more experiencing the sacrament than we are worshiping when we stub our toe and shout “Oh my God!”. 

Yes, we should protect the Eucharist. 

However, there is an element to the Eucharist which is easy to forget. 

We argue about who can receive, about which bread is best, about when it will fit into our worship service…

And all to often we forget this simple concept about the bread and the wine.

It is a pure gift. 

In the Eucharist we are not called to take anything. We are called to receive. 

This sacrament is highly “sacrificial”. We walk forward and place our hands out in an act of surrender and from that moment on, it is out of our control. We ourselves can not complete the sacrament, we must receive. 

When I serve communion at my local church, I often keep the elements close to my body, sometimes even holding them away from a person. It’s as if I’m playing a game of “keep away” with the congregation. This is so they are forced to receive. Hold a plate of bread out and everyone walks up and grabs. Force them to stand and wait and then they will receive. 

Ian Cron brilliantly said it this way: 

“That posture of putting your hands foward and receiving is the precise opposite of what went wrong in the garden. In the garden, what went wrong? Grasping and grabing. In the Eucharist what goes right? Receiving. You put the hands out and simply receive. I don’t want people in communion to even physically mimic what is internally a disastuorus posture in life. Grabbing, not receiving. This is the undoing of the momentum of Eden.”

So why then does #freebreadandwine catch my attention? Because it is just that.

Free.

It’s a gift.

You did nothing to deserve it. You did nothing to bring it about.

You simply must show up, to a place where they “basically just let anyone show up”, and receive a gift of free bread and wine. 

And this act is so contrary to the way our society typically functions, that it is in a way, as Ian Cron put it, an undoing of the momentum of Eden. 

In N.T. Wrights, Scripture’s Doctrine and Theology’s Bible,he simply said it this way:

“When Jesus wanted to explain to his followers what he thought would be the meaning of his death, he did not give them a theory; he gave them a meal.”

We Dare Not Articulate It

In a video for the visual media site Work of the People, author and Episcopal Priest Ian Morgan Cron shared a very simple yet profound insight about Eucharist, and the overall experience that we share in community and with God. 

Initially talking about his son, who is overheard playing drums in the background, Cron said,

“Some of the most profound moments I’ve had with my son have been when I’m playing guitar and he’s playing the drums and the two of us just sort of lock eyes, that’s amazing - that melody, that song, we’re doing that together. There’s a metaphor, and I don’t want to overhead things but we’re co-creating something in the moment and we’re experiencing each other “unitively”, where we become one, and something really great is happening and you almost don’t dare want to move, you just want to stare at each other while it’s happening. It’s great.”

Trying to make a connection between music and God, the interviewer asks “What is that “divine groove” that comes from this union?” Cron’s response:

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to even guess. That’s like the questions, ‘What happens during the Eucharist?’ And it’s such a shame that people try to articulate this. I like this idea, it’s a very Anglican idea, that we know something happens, but we dare not articulate it.