Why Is the Lord’s Supper So Rare?
— Tuesday, April 7th, 2009 —
There are a lot of churches for whom a congregational business meeting comes around more frequently than the Lord’s Supper. That’s sad. But, what I’m curious about is why does it happen that way? Why is the Lord’s Supper, for so many churches, a rare event by design?
It was not so from the beginning. The ordinary pattern of the Supper in the early church, the Book of Acts tells us, was a weekly observance (Acts 2:42), a pattern of frequency that seems to be presumed in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians.
But many of our congregations come to the Table quarterly or even less often. If you ask (and I have), some of these pastors and church members will say it’s for fear of an overly ritualistic understanding of the Supper, or in order to keep the congregation from growing callous to the Supper out of repetition.
But the repetition is kind of the point. Who knows better that his parents love him, the child who is hugged and told “I love you” every Christmas and Arbor Day or the child who is hugged and told “I love you” every morning and every night?
The Lord’s Supper is proclamation, the Bible tells us: it speaks to us of the past crucifixion and the present kingdom of our Lord Christ (1 Cor. 11:26). And that’s just the point. We ignore the Supper because we don’t understand the role of gospel preaching for the believer.
We understand that the gospel is “the power of God unto salvation” (Rom. 1:16) at the moment of conversion. What we don’t often comprehend is that this same gospel is what continues us in the faith, moving us to conformity with the image of Christ. Our Lord’s Supper practices are ambiguous and awkward precisely because we’re too unsure of how to preach the gospel to ourselves.
Sure, we understand John 3:16, as it applies to the lost, but we believe it’s too elementary for us who know Christ. We then move on to abstract doctrines or to “practical life tips” from the Bible. But the Scripture never envisions a church of believers not constantly nourished by the gospel of Christ crucified, both through verbal preaching and through the ordinances.
More on this later, but, for now, please consider the Supper and the calendar. One of the first ways a church can reclaim a gospel focus is to restore the Lord’s Supper to the biblical rhythm of congregational life. The Lord’s Supper is meant to be bloody, but it’s not meant to be rare.
16 Responses to “Why Is the Lord’s Supper So Rare?”
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- The Blog Patrol (April 14, 2009) « Wayne’s Random Thoughts
- Why Is The Lord’s Supper So Rare? « Echoes from the Past…Reflections for the Present





Excellent question. It strikes me as odd that many evangelicals regard weekly observance of the Lord’s Supper as ritualistic, but do not regard preaching, singing, or corporate prayer as such. When is the last time you heard anyone seriously suggest, “I think we need to cut back our sermons to one a month; we seem to be listening to them too ritualistically”?
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Jeremy, exactly. I’ve got some ideas, but I’d love to hear from folks who are seeing some resurgently gospel oriented Lord’s Supper services where they are. Where was the most meaningful communion service you have ever seen and what made it so?
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@Russell D. Moore,
Dr. Moore,
In response to your question about where our most meaningful communion service was and why, I know that one of the most meaningful communion services I have ever experienced occurred last year.
As the pastor instructed us to walk up and receive the elements, he advised us to give people a joyful expression because the Lord’s Supper is a time to rejoice. Too often, it seems, people just ponder the brutal death Jesus experienced. I wonder if this leads to more of a somber atmosphere than is appropriate. While it’s important to remember the sacrifice Christ paid, we should rejoice with our brothers and sisters because Jesus himself spoke of the meal as pointing to his return!
@Russell D. Moore,
The most meaningful communion service I’ve ever been a part of was (and still is) the Christ in the Passover service we now do each year on (or close to) Resurrection Sunday. The full Passover meal with teaching to focus on the portrayal of Christ as our Lamb, sin, sacrifice and grace throughout the meal gives an understanding and emotion I’ve never experienced in a “normal” Lord’s Supper.
While I agree that the primary excuse you hear is the fear of dead ritualism. If we were honest, however, I think we do it with less frequency than we ought because we view it as a hassle; the set up, the sobriety required for self-examination, and the added length to the Sunday service are an unwelcome intrusion into our routines. I would venture to say that many American churchgoers approach church the same way they do fast food; they want to be in and out and on their way in as little time as possible and I think we have done much to cater to that instant gratification mindset.
As far as meaningful communion services I really enjoy what Alan Hirsch and others are doing as they celebrate the Lord’s Supper by gathering together for a corporate meal. I think this does much to foster and convey the organic unity and interdependence of the church.
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@Keith Walters, you’re exactly right about the hassle. Funny thing is, we don’t seem to mind the “hassle” that comes along with our other meals-breakfast, lunch, dinner, etc. We’ve convinced ourselves, when it comes to the Supper, that man can live by bread alone, and not by every word (including words of bread and wine) that proceeds from the mouth of the Lord.
Perhaps one of the reasons that churches are hesitant to celebrate the Lord’s Supper is that it seems like something of an obligation. “We have to get all the deacons together; we have to get the Lord’s Supper committee to get the elements ready; we have to cut the program short so we can tack it on to the end of the service, etc.”
And then when it is observed, much of the formality tends to resemble a secret ritual at the Lodge and the atmosphere is somber and sad.
If we revive the celebration of the Lord’s Supper, we should probably start out by robust teaching as to its celebratory nature. And then mix it up by taking it different ways (altar, stations, around a potluck table, etc.).
Right now, I suspect we see our worship services as too upbeat and happy to end too often with a “downer,” which all too often is the atmosphere of the Lord’s Supper.
What are some suggestions you have to get us on track?
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@Trevin Wax,
You bring up a great point TW. I have often asked why such a strong emphasis on modalistic baptism when we are so lax in the greater of the two ordinances. Why not the whole meal instead of just the dramatic show with chips and dip? Shouldn’t we really sit down and actually fellowship, break the bread, and drink the wine. And speaking of wine, just what was the significance of fermented drink (it is impossible that what Jesus served up was not fermented).
The main thing in the above is that we celebrate baptism as “THE” ordinance, and just as rigidly neglect the reality of the Supper. And, I would agree, the teaching on the meaning and observance of the Supper is almost superstitiously avoided or down-played. Perhaps it is the particularity of the nature of the atonement and the reality of a true propitiation for some and not for others. It is hard to get around the teaching that the Supper both commends and condemns. Then again, that is why Jesus came, isn’t it; to set aside a particular people to himself?
@Trevin Wax,
I do think that we should have a robust set of beliefs and practices related to the Lord’s Table and the Supper we take there. However, I don’t think the emphasis should be on the “celebratory nature” of the meal.
Paul is clear that when we approach the Table we are to examine ourselves (1 Cor 11:28), remembering that when we partake we are proclaiming the Lord’s death (11:26). As you know, the result of some who took it sinfully without considering such things meant sickness and even death (11:30).
I think that inherently the Meal should be a somber event. That doesn’t mean that there isn’t joy in the gospel of the cross. It just means that our joy is a deep one that comes in the midst of remembering the terrible death of the Savior in our place. As the song says, “It was my sin that held him there.”
Perhaps the greater problem is that we fail to explain the significance of the Supper as we should, and the fact that in a world that shuns sobriety of any kind, our people have a hard time with an event that requires a large degree of gospel-driven reflection? Just my thoughts. Lord bless you in your ministry, brother.
I am grateful to be in a church and have been in churches all my life that observe it once a month. I believe that it forces the members to be right with God frequently and causes the people to focus on Christ, salvation, the rapture, holy living and fellowship. The Lord’s Supper is a great teaching tool that is not used to its fullest capacity.
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Dr. Moore, I’m deeply thankful for the way that you are fighting for a Gospel-centered and celebratory Lord’s Supper. You’ve done more than anyone else to help me see it as a joyful proclamation.
The most meaningful communion service I’ve experienced is at Sojourn Church there in Louisville. It is served every week as one of the centerpieces of worship, as sort of the finale to the sermon. Every week we were reminded that in taking the meal, we are “announcing the Lord’s death until he returns.” Each week communion was the opportunity for the Christians to tangibly be reminded of the gospel and for unbelievers to be called to repentance and faith, to take Christ.
We sang hymns as people lined up to go forward and take the meal, and as you tore off a piece of bread, the server reminded you: “This is the body of Christ, broken for you.” As you dipped it in the juice or wine (depending on your conscience): “This is the blood of Christ, shed for you.” Then you returned to your seat and sang your heart out for joy and thanksgiving to God. It was moving every time I took communion, but it was ten times more moving when I got to serve it, seeing the line of my brothers and sisters coming to receive what God has freely given, and repeating those incredible words over and over to each one in turn. Yes it was a ritual, but it lost none of its power to point us to Christ and bond us together in fellowship.
I really hope that the churches will continue to grow in their understanding of the Lord’s Supper as the joyful proclamation of Christ’s victory and our hope of eating it with Christ in his kingdom.
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@jordan buckley,
I was actually going to mention Sojourn in my comment, so I’m glad to see someone else beat me to the punch! I’m actually a member at Immanuel Baptist Church down the street from Sojourn, but we only have evening activities every other week leaving me plenty of opportunities to visit and worship with our friends at Sojourn.
What strikes me the times I’ve visited about Sojourn’s service is how I’m intentionally led by the worship leaders to do serious communion with the Lord in the midst of community fellowship. The liturgical and musical worship really helps me “set my mind on things above” but not to the exclusion of understanding my place beside my brothers and sisters in Christ. Participating in the Lord’s Supper there, as Jordan mentioned, has been a culmination of a service centered around the gospel and rooted in the community of faith, the church.
Many thanks to all those at Sojourn who not only serve the Lord’s Supper but also serve us in music, prayer, and Bible study. The whole service creates an atmosphere of heartfelt worship for me.
Also, @Thomas Twitchell, they do offer wine at Sojourn if you’re looking to escape from the grape juice. : )
My spiritual formation was in Baptist and virtual-Baptist climes, from boyhood through seminary, for which I claim some sort of standing to comment here. My observations, however, arise from my ministry as an Anglican priest (probably more at home in the 17th Century Church than the modern one!). And, so, I offer this:
The “dead ritual” which prompted so much anxiety in my Baptist fathers is a mirage. I have never participated in an Anglican communion that lacked a palpable sense of awe, joy, and (in the case of some individuals from time to time) tears of gratitude for sins forgiven and assurance of salvation.
The forms (i.e. the rites) of western Eucharistic worship are needed to forge a unity of the congregation in its worship of our Lord. Without the forms, a congregation worships like an orchestra trying to play without a score, or like a ballet troupe trying to dance without choreography. In the absence of these things which create unity of word and action, the Christians gathered have the same unity as a pile of raked leaves: they just happen to be in the same place at the same time.
Spontaneity, novelty, and unpredictability are contemporary idols which need to be stripped branch and root from our churches. Eternality cannot take expression in time except through repetition. Hence our Father’s love of seasons; annual, monthly, monthly, and even daily festivals, Sabbaths, Sabbaths of Sabbaths; anniversaries. These things unify a people (and a church) in exactly the same way and for the same reasons that healthy, coherent homes are unified: life proceeds in rhythms, cycles, and seasons. We are creatures of a cosmos God created to run this way.
Yet, here’s a marvelous paradox: within such forms, rhythms, and rites, there is freedom for focused concentration on spiritual eternalities, including our Lord’s person. C. S. Lewis put it best when he compared worship to dancing. When you’re having to think about where to put your foot down next, when you’re constantly alert to what is supposed to happen next, because you’re not sure, you’re not dancing. You are, at best, learning to dance.
But, when you know all the steps by heart, when everyone knows what to do, when and how to do it, you are, oddly, free to focus completely on your partner, or (in the case of communal dances such as square dancing, or reels, or clogging) to enjoy your union with everyone else in something bigger than the sum of you all. A truly corporate worship is always bigger than those individuals who are unified with one another within it. “With angels and archangels and all the company of heaven, we laud and magnify Thy Holy Name, every more singing …” I say those words every Sunday, and they never fail to make the back of my neck prickle, because I know they are true.
As to weekly observance, I concur that this is the Biblical pattern and precedent, and that standard is one of the most important inheritances I have from my Baptist fathers. And, virtually every magisterial Reformer championed weekly communion, and in past times it was the custom of Baptists. God grant that Baptists today may learn to commune with one and another and our Lord when they gather for His worship.
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Historically, the shift is owed to the the Scottish Reformation. Knox and others were very concerned to avoid all appearances and possible confusions with the Mass, which they understood to be a damnable idolatry. Whereas even the Edwardian and Elizabethan Protestants in England continued weekly communion and kneeling at the altar, the more thorough-going Scots would not have it. Knox often railed against the English Book of Common Prayer, even losing his pastorate in Frankfurt over the controversy.
The Scottish Reformers wanted the preaching of the Word to be central. Altars were removed from churches and destroyed, being replaced with a central pulpit. The Lord’s Supper was also taken outdoors on a quarterly basis - the Scottish Holy Fairs, which much later formed the basis of the American camp-meeting revivals.
The native superstitions of the common man and the tendency to return to previous thoughts and practices tied to the Mass urged the Scots to completely break with prior tradition.
Baptists were heavily influenced by the Scottish strain of Protestantism: the regulative principle of worship, a Word centered service, and quarterly communion (among other things).
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