Monday, October 13, 2014

Spina Bifida and the Foretaste of Eternal Glory

Earlier this year I read through the Bible as fast as I could. It was a sprint from Genesis to Revelation. Whenever I’d bump up against something that beckoned me to linger I would jot it down and push on. There were lots of interesting things that came about from this kind of reading, but something that caught me off guard, specifically during my jaunt through Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, was that I found myself reacting in frustration and anger. We all know that the Gospels are full of accounts where Jesus is healing the sick and the blind and the lame, but reading in this accelerated way allowed me to see that Jesus was healing people a lot. I mean, he was healing people like a dirty politician wants you to vote, early and often. He was healing so many people that the gospel writers simply couldn’t fit them all into their text. John said that it would take more books than the world could contain just to write down all the miraculous things Jesus did.

Like I said, this isn’t new information. I always have known and believed that Jesus healed the lame and sick, but having my perspective readjusted in this sprint of a read, the healing touch of Christ just simply overwhelmed me. And I found my soul, almost without intention, groaning.

My third child, Arwen, was born with a type of spina bifida called myelomenigocele. There’s a lot of medical jargon that goes along with that, but essentially this means that my daughter’s spine never fully closed in the womb and because of this her spinal cord protruded from her back. This leads to the spinal cord being damaged which causes things like paralysis, lack of sensation, loss of bladder and bowel control. All of these things and more affect my daughter. You can read more about myelomenigocele: here. And for a more detailed look at my daughter’s condition, I will point you to my wife’s excellent blog: here

October is spina bifida awareness month, but my daughter and my family are aware of spina bifida every day. It’s not too far off the mark to say we’re aware of it at minimum every hour. We have had to rewire the way we think and the way we live. Everything goes through the spina bifida filter. A fever isn’t just a fever, it’s an ER visit. A slight bump on her head or back nearly send me into cardiac arrest. I praise God she can walk even though she can’t move her feet or calf muscles. And as she grows those legs are looking thinner. I’m aware of it every time I see her run to catch up to her siblings. Will she be able to keep walking when she grows up? My heart is thumping with dread even as I write.

So I’m reading about Jesus and his healing and my heart is groaning for my daughter. God, you have the power to heal. Just heal her. Christ, heal her. If I could but take everything she suffers with and place it upon me I’d do it in half a heartbeat. I can relate to the parents I read about, bringing their sick kids to Jesus, or travelling from afar just to see if this miracle worker can do what no one else has been able to do. Their concern is my concern, their anguish is my anguish, and their pleas for mercy echo mine. We want the same thing, for our child to be made whole. But the difference is that they got what they asked for and I’m still groaning. Mercy. Please heal her like you healed those people. Why won’t you heal her? My pleas for healing were met with silence against the backdrop of the miraculous. So yeah, there was frustration and anger.

All of a sudden I can see now why folks get duped by those Charismatic phony-baloney TV healer types. Desperation. It is the action of doing whatever it takes to give a child relief. Which makes folks like Benny Hinn and his ilk even more evil than I first thought. Sucking the souls and pocketbooks of those who just want relief and blaming those who aren’t healed on their lack of faith. Sick. Faith healers? More like faith stealers. But even armed with that knowledge I’m still tempted. I have real faith, why isn’t my daughter healed? Who needs a TV preacher? I’m duping myself over here. I’m tempted further, But you healed those people! Why can’t you heal her!? and as soon as the words die on my lips I hear them again in the mouths of the scoffers, “He saved others but he can’t save himself!” Well that’s a jolly crew I’ve latched myself to; Benny Hinn and the Mockers of the dying Christ. Oh help my unbelief!

Praise God for sound theology. By His grace I remember that God is sovereign. That anchor. That unshakeable tree that has taken root in my very being. Without it, who’s to say my frustration and anger and desperation wouldn’t keep me subjected to the kooks? Undergirded by the understanding that God is sovereign, reminded that this world is under a curse and that God has sent Christ to break it, I see my frustration start to crumble and like a smack to the face it hits me that this Sovereign God is aware. God is aware of spina bifida. He’s aware of my daughter. He’s aware of my wife’s stress and heartache. He is aware of my plea.

A word rollicks through my brain. Foretaste. An image of that old sailor-turned-preacher John Newton flashes and I recall that he said a Christian “lives upon the foretastes of eternal glory”. Now that’s a thought to dwell upon.

I look to the Gospels again, on all of those overwhelming accounts of Jesus healing and realize that these accounts are a foretaste. Jesus’ coming to earth was a foretaste of eternal glory. Eternal glory. Where the lion and lamb lay down together. Where the children play near vipers as harmless as puppies. Where deaf ears and blind eyes are opened and mute tongues sing. Where the lame will leap like the deer. Jesus’ healing was a sneak peek. The appetizer course. An overlapping of heaven on earth. His healing was the overflow, the bubble and froth of the Kingdom of God spilling everywhere Jesus stepped. Suddenly that which overwhelmed me became vastly underwhelming. Like the exploding spillover of a champagne bottle this healing lasted only for a few moments, revealing to us that there is more to come. This miraculous healing explosion was a glimpse, a foretaste of what is yet to come. On this thought my anger and frustration fell away and my soul found some relief. Hope. That’s what it was. Hope.

Hope, because one day there will be no more tears. No more pain. No more suffering. No more stress. No more damned spina bifida. Hospital visits and doctor’s stupid opinions and surgeries and finances are going to be removed. Hope, because one day my daughter will experience the touch of the One who makes all things new. She’s going to run laps around her siblings. She’s gonna leap like a deer. And what a sight that will be. How much sweeter will heaven make of all that is bitter on the earth? Our groaning and suffering and sorrow today will be the foundations on which is built a greater joy. Is this not but a reflection of the cross of Christ? Jesus, God Incarnate, the Only Innocent, suffered the greatest injustice, underwent the greatest suffering, wracked with the greatest sorrow, died upon the cross, being mocked at by the scum of the earth, enduring the wrath of his Father for the scum of the earth; did this for the joy that was set before him. The greatest suffering became the greatest joy. For him and for us.

I’m encouraged and strengthened by this hope. To be sure, sorrow is still there. But knowing what is in store it is a sorrow mingled with joy. My daughter still has spina bifida. I still hate it and don’t want her to have it. I still would take it away given the chance. But there is hope. I’m glad there are things like Spina Bifida Awareness Month.  One of the best reasons to be aware of spina bifida, or any other disability, is knowing that one day there will be no need to be aware. Or even better our awareness of spina bifida or any other suffering will serve to augment our joy and the glory of God.

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. –St. Paul in his letter to the Romans


Friday, October 10, 2014

Renew the Table: A Pause and the Pragmatic Filter

Renew the Table is a series of thoughts and opinions concerning the renewal of the Lord's Supper. For more information please see Goals and Disclaimers

Before we continue I would like to pause for a brief second and look back along the path we've been marching. This will allow those of you who are just joining to catch up, and those who've been along the whole time a reminder of context. It will also allow me to properly set up the next installment.

Over the last few posts I think it is fair to say that I have sought to somewhat decimate the Memorialist view of the Lord’s Supper. My investigation began with observing the (quite stunning) infrequent practice of the Lord’s Supper among evangelicals and Southern Baptists in particular. I went on to investigate the root cause of a Memorialist view (the absence of Christ in the partaking) and the bad fruits it produces (i.e. infrequent observance). I then put forward my case that Scripture reveals that Christ is in fact present in the Supper and most recently finished up by exposing an often used, but quite flawed, argument for infrequent partaking that sidesteps the issue of whether Christ is present or not.

Let’s not kid ourselves. Even though we dipped into the theological perspective of Memorialism, what we are really dealing with is Functional Memorialism. Regardless of whether you adhere to it or not, you don’t have to fully embrace the theological viewpoint of a Memorialist to functionally act like one. A church might confess the presence of Christ in the Supper on yellowed paper but functionally reject the presence of Christ every quarter. This is because Memorialism offers no resistance to Pragmatism.

In an earlier post I said “the major fruit by which Memorialism devalues the Supper is that Memorialism produces an “it doesn't matter as long as we meet the bottom line” mindset. Christ commanded we do this in remembrance of Him. So long as we do it, that’s all that really matters. The stripped down mentality of Memorialism encourages the least amount of effort. The Lord’s Supper doesn't become a valuable part of worship so much as a box to be checked off. In this way, Memorialism is the prime option for pragmatists.” Elsewhere I have noted what I believe to be true about pragmatism; “When Man deems, in his own estimation, that a thing is no longer practical, necessary, or convenient he will, at all costs, do his best to rid the world of it.”

The offspring (or casualties) of these two “-isms” can be found in worship services across the land. The reason communion is so infrequent is because frequent partaking is 1) impractical 2) unnecessary, or 3) inconvenient. It may be one or all three of these (depending on who deems it so…), as long as we are meeting the bare minimum (do this as a memory) then everything else must pass through the Pragmatism Filter. Simply put, as long as we do it, it doesn't matter how we do it. All of a sudden, everything else is up for grabs. Questions like, “How often should we partake” take a tumble through the filter and we wind up with our answer: “As infrequently as possible”.

"My Body and Blood, simple as 1, 2, 3!" -said Jesus never
Frequency—despite my incessant drumming and/or beating of dead horses—is a relatively easy, mostly gentle topic that not too many people get worked up about. Honestly, I don’t think it would be quite hard to convince a group of Memorialists the benefit of more frequent communion. Of course the point isn't merely more partaking. We want a fuller, robust, and more biblically accurate communion. But on the surface I don’t think there would be a ton of pushback. But there is another casualty of this Pragmatic Memorialism that I think would be quite toxic to attempt to resurrect in many if not most of these churches. This would be the elements themselves. In particular, wine. Stay tuned.

Monday, October 6, 2014

Renew the Table: Does Frequent Observance Devalue the Supper?

Renew the Table is a series of thoughts and opinions concerning the renewal of the Lord's Supper. For more information please see Goals and Disclaimers

In my last post on the Lord’s Supper I put forward that Scripture (as in, not the Pope, not Calvin, or Luther, but Scripture itself, based on 1 Corinthians 10:14-22) reveals that Christ is present in the partaking of the Supper in some way, thus rendering a mere memorialist interpretation of the Supper invalid. This plays into what we have already observed; that the infrequent partaking of the Lord’s Supper is an indicator of how healthy a Church’s worship is. In this case, if it is mere memorialism that is driving our understanding of the Lord’s Supper in such a way that causes us to partake infrequently, then one must conclude that the infrequent partaking of the Lord’s Supper is in fact unhealthy. Infrequent partaking indicates anemic, incomplete worship.

In the last post I tied the presence of Christ to the idea of ‘value’. Infrequent partaking devalues the Supper which in turn devalues our worship. If Christ is present then the Lord’s Supper takes on a certain weightiness. It is a weight heavier than just thoughts about what Jesus did once long ago. That weight, that presence is valuable. But here is where we meet a sizable roadblock for many in our debate against Memorialism. In this post my aim is to expose one of the main arguments I have found given for infrequent partaking.

Valuable Rarity: less is more?
If there is one thing that I learned as a Memorialist, it’s that the Lord’s Supper is extremely valuable. So valuable in fact that it must be reserved as a special occasion. At least this has been my experience as a child and a young man. On the surface, this idea that Memorialists value the Supper appears to defeat my multi-post argument entirely. It seems antithetical to my theory that infrequent partaking devalues the Supper and therefore Christian worship. The Supper, in this case, is observed infrequently precisely because it is so valuable. The idea being that if the Supper were to be observed on a regular basis it would lose its value.

I maintain my objection. I believe this argument to be nothing less than a ploy. A diversion. A wiggly maneuver to justify an unhealthy habit. Let me be quick to say that though I have used words that conjure devious intentions, I don’t believe (or don’t want to believe) that folks who utilize such an argument are disingenuous. I believe that they believe what they are saying is quite true. I believe they are not trying to pull a fast one. They really do believe the Lord’s Supper is valuable. They really do believe that frequent observance would devalue the Supper. This line of thinking needs a term to help us stay afloat. Let’s call this Valuable Rarity. The idea being that the Supper only maintains its value when it remains rare. The value of the Supper then is directly tied to its commonality. Valuable Rarity is undergirded by events like weddings and graduations and birthday parties. We can see that these events maintain their value, their specialness, because they don’t happen every day. If you were to celebrate your birth every day, then the specialness or value of the occasion would begin to wear off. Your actual Day of Birth would be just like any other day.

This idea of Valuable Rarity is interesting because it is pan-theological. Valuable Rarity crosses party lines. Memorialists aren't the only ones who justify infrequent partaking with Valuable Rarity; Transubstantiationists do as well. Or at least they have done so in the past. The Roman Catholic belief of transubstantiation, simply put, is that the physical elements of the bread and wine become the physical body and blood of Jesus Christ. This, for them, is how Christ is present in the Supper. There’s a whole heap of a lot more than that, but it doesn't make my summary any less true. That’s what they believe. I think it’s safe to say that Memorialists and Roman Catholics quickly and sharply disagree with each other regarding the Presence of Christ in the Supper. And yet, the worshippers in the late medieval Roman Catholic Church also infrequently partook of the Supper. They even partook less than Memorialists. Easter was nearly the only time of year a normal Christian would partake. And even then he may have only partaken of the bread.

Elevation of the Eucharist, detail from the Della Rovere Missal
Italy, Rome, ca. 1485–90 (note the onlooking parishioners)
Memorialists and Transubstantiationists both say that they are upholding the value of the Supper by partaking infrequently. Let’s not deceive ourselves into thinking it is as simple as that. They are indeed on opposite sides; however they are holding the same rope. The Medievals feared that their frequent partaking would devalue the Supper because the Supper was, above all things, most holy. Here was the physical body and blood of the Lord Jesus Christ. How could such unholy people participate in such a holy act of worship? It contained so much value that the parishioners received grace by simply watching the act, gazing upon the elements and seeing the priest partake. Then on a special holy day, such as Easter, after the worshippers have spent weeks fasting and preparing themselves, they would partake. Maybe.

As a side note, I find it interesting to see that the infrequent partaking of the Lord’s Supper in the late Middle Ages parallels the hardening and defining of transubstantiation as official church doctrine. Further evidence that infrequent partaking of the Supper is a symptom of a deeper problem.

Valuable Rarity in both cases, is used as an argument for infrequent partaking, but for vastly (hugely) different theologies. I’ll not deny that it is more complex than I have presented. Because the motivations for rare partaking are different for each party it would be unfair to lump them together as it looks like I have done. In this case, it would be unfair to lump the Roman Catholics with the Memorialists because the Roman Catholics have since abandoned their infrequent partaking. That doesn't necessarily mean that their understanding of the Supper is any better. But it does reveal that they abandoned the idea of Valuable Rarity whereas the Memorialists doubled down on it.

Why Valuable Rarity is False
The reason the Value of the Supper cannot be tied to the Rarity of the Supper is because the Value of the Supper is tied to something else: Jesus Christ. All Christians agree that the Supper is Valuable. If the Value of the Supper is derived from Christ, then we must view the Rarity or Infrequency of the Supper in light of Christ as well. Here’s what I mean: We derive value from the Supper because (1) Christ commands that we observe. (2) We partake of Christ in the Supper; that is when we eat in faith, we participate in his broken body and poured out blood. (3) In the Supper we proclaim Christ’s death until He comes again. I’m sure we could dig up some more reasons, but I believe these are enough to reveal that the Value of the Supper is linked to Christ. So, if these are the reasons the Supper is valuable then what does that reveal about those who think Rarity has a say? In other words, when Rarity is linked to the Value of the Supper, what we are saying is that our observance of Christ’s command is valuable because we infrequently observe the command. Our participation in the body and blood of Christ is valuable because we rarely participate. Our proclamation of Christ’s death is valuable because we rarely proclaim it in such a way. Does this sound right to you? Do you see why it is foolish, if not dangerous, to untie the Value of the Supper from Christ and tie it to Rarity? 

The Value of the Supper is not only derived from Christ, but it is also fulfilled and protected by Christ. In both views, the Medieval and the Memorialist, Value is fulfilled or protected by Rarity. In both cases the eyes have moved away from the sufficiency of Christ to uphold the Value of the Supper among His people. Because the eyes have moved from Christ, both views inevitably lean on what WE must do to uphold the value of the Supper. The Memorialists successfully rooted out Transubstantiationism, but wound up offering the same results. Today, here and now, there are folks with good intentions leaning on the idea of Valuable Rarity, not realizing that it is built on mortal foundations. The reason it sounds good is because it makes sense in the world of economics. We see this everyday with gas prices. The less oil the higher the value. But, Rarity is a value only when a thing is finite. When a thing is infinite, rarity has nothing to say about value. It disappears. And here is where the argument implodes: The Value of a thing is not dependent upon rarity if the thing is infinite.

If given the option, take one and leave the other, to choose between the world’s most rare, most finite, gemstone or the very air that you breathe, which would you choose? You would choose the (vastly abundant) infinite air to breathe. Do you see how your understanding of Value has changed? The value of the air, though free and infinite in normal situations, is immensely more valuable than the rarest of gemstones. This is because the Value of air is tied, not to its Rarity, like the gemstone, but because it is tied to Life itself. The same goes for the Supper. The Value of the Supper is tied to Christ not to Rarity. This is why the argument is a ploy. It’s a subtle trickery, deceiving the very mouths that shout it. And this is why I maintain my objection. Infrequent participation of the Supper is unhealthy for Christians in the same way infrequent breathing is unhealthy for humans.

When we argue that the Lord’s Supper must be infrequently observed to preserve its value, we have said something about the value of Christ. If we argue that the Supper must rarely be observed so it doesn't become a meaningless familiarity, we have said something about our understanding of what it means to be familiar with Christ. It would be like saying we should preserve the value of air by infrequently breathing. We shouldn't breathe so often because it could become a meaningless ritual. All the while missing the point that the value of air isn't based on the rarity in which we breathe it, but the value of air is that it gives life. Would anyone doubt that the infrequent breathers value those times in which they allow themselves to breathe?

This leads to a serious consideration of the very thing Christ commands us to do. Eat and drink! The Supper itself declares to us the necessity. We are to sustain ourselves on Christ just as we sustain ourselves with food and drink. Do we chiefly derive the value of food because it is rare or because it gives life?

Because Christ is infinite, and because Christ is infinitely valuable, the value of the Supper cannot decrease the more we observe. The only way the Supper can decrease in value is when the Supper is about us and not about Christ. And as we have seen, this is what exactly what Memorialism does. When the Supper becomes not simply for us, but about us then the value most assuredly will begin to decrease. I mean, there is only so much remembering that we can actually do. Only so much inward confession we can muster until we start to think about bills or the football game. Only so many times we can eat and drink without it becoming a mindless action. Is it any wonder why these observances are few and far between? A Supper where Christ is emphatically not present is a cheap meal. Memorialism places us in Christ’s seat at the table and we are boring dinner guests. We've set the table according to our own standards; spartan, small, and alcohol free. We are the party poopers. In this case, in our observance of the Supper we come dangerously close to the description in 2 Timothy 3:5: “having the appearance of godliness, but denying its power.” Yikes.

I have heard others adequately argue that the Word of God doesn't lose its value through frequent preaching of it. Amen. Why didn't I just say that from the get go and save us some time? I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to take the scenic route. I wanted to open the clock to see how it ticks. To show folks why it could be dangerous to hold on to something that looks solid. Because while a simple comparison argument might be enough to convince some that the idea of Valuable Rarity of the Supper is false, there is still a large portion of evangelicals (80% in the SBC!) who have either ignored it or have explained it away, and I cannot help but be haunted by the words in 2 Timothy 3:5.

Friday, September 19, 2014

The God Who Laughs

Last night as I was in the midst of taking care of medical needs that my daughter requires, I had a brief moment to reflect over the past few days. It’s been one of those those times where it just seems like everything is either wrong or bad or crazy. A time when you realize that there are no good choices, only less-bad choices. Things that happen beyond our control that affects us nonetheless. Things seemingly within our control that inexplicably and frustratingly slip from our grasp. Had I the ability, in that moment, to wave a magic wand and make things right I would have. In only a few moments of reflecting on the hard things and the bad things and the crazy things, I was immediately assaulted with the question, Why? Why God does my daughter’s body not work and we have to go through this crap every day? Why are there things and people outside of my control that rain down hatred and crazy on my life and the life of my family? Why can’t I just, for once, not be mindlessly calloused when my wife is in need of care and comfort? Why does everything have to be so hard?

It was a brief moment. I really didn't even think through that much detail. It all just kind of hit me at once all blended in together, just an overwhelming feeling of “Why?” And almost as soon as I had mentally voiced my complaint to God I received an answer. The answer was, “Because of the curse.” The answer was just so plain and obvious and so satisfying. Within half a second my entire disposition was readjusted. Why is the sin of others affecting me and my family? Because of the curse. Why does sin so pervade within me that I don’t realize I've sinned until the damage is already done? Because of the curse. Why does my daughter have this disability? Because of the curse. Why are plans and people so easily frustrated? Because of the curse. Why does everything just have to be so hard? Because of the curse.

The puzzle pieces fit and I could make sense of things again. A feeling of relief came over me. The question ‘Why?’ didn't have the overwhelming force and influence over my soul that it once grasped. I realized I my complaint, which felt justified at the moment I said it, was on unsettled ground. Unbelief crept in, disguised as self-pity. The answer I received, “Because of the curse”, gave me solid ground to stand on. I can battle my unbelief from this position.

And then I realized that I had actually heard a voice. The answer “Because of the curse” didn't arise within my soul like an echo from the Holy Spirit, it was literally audible to my ears. I heard it. Writing all of this out now as a step by step process really gives a false impression. All of this—the thoughts, the complaint, the answer, the satisfaction, the readjustment, the strange realization of an audible voice answering the inaudible question of my soul—took place in nearly an instant.

The audible voice I heard did not come from a burning bush. There wasn't an angel dressed in white seated before me. The heavens didn't open. No thunder from the sky. It came from the other room. It wasn't my wife or kids. It was the TV. The kids were watching a show. I sat and listened for a moment. What were they watching? After a few seconds I realized it was Scooby-Doo. Someone had said, “Because of the curse” in reference to some mystery that needed solved. It hit me. Did my soul just receive a satisfying cleanse from a goofy cartoon show about some stoner kid detectives and their dog? Zoinks. They say that God moves in mysterious ways. Apparently He also moves in hilarious ways.


I’m not going to frame this as, “God spoke to me through Scooby-Doo,” even though I might. I certainly believe in the providence of God. I have no qualms believing He is able to answer prayer with a dose of truth, no matter the source of that truth. I don’t believe that God embodied the TV in some supernatural way and spoke through a cartoon character. But I do believe that all truth points to God whether it means to or not. If God so ordained it that Scooby-Doo would be the instrument of answered prayer than who am I to scoff? Just as John Newton believed every interruption was from the Lord, I’ll take it that this perfectly timed line from a cartoon was an act of the providence of God. I cannot deny that in those moments God was at work in my soul, freeing me from fear and unbelief and strengthening me with truth.

I said that apparently God moves in hilarious ways. And why not? Our common idea of God is that He is not funny. He’s grim and somber and looks down on those who laugh. It’s a topic we’re uncomfortable with. For many it seems sacrilegious to claim that God has a sense of humor. I've never seen a conference on The Humor of God. But humor and laughter are good things, holy things. And like all good things and all holy things, they can be abused. Laughter strengthens and emboldens, which is why there are warnings against cruel humor. God does not want us to be strengthened and emboldened in evil things. But the abuse of laughter does not mean we should abolish laughter. Humor is holy because it is from God. Because we desecrate holy things doesn't mean that it originated from the devil. Perversion is from the devil. Humor is from God. Perverted humor is a desecration of a holy thing.

God is an expert at making the wise foolish and the foolish wise. How can humor not be an instrument in bringing this about? It is a holy making-fun-of. Using the foolish things of this world to shame those who are wise in this world is a righteous punchline. He made a donkey speak to and scold a prophet. He made Balaam the bigger of the two jackasses. How can the inventor of time not also be the inventor of comedic timing?

I get the feeling the reason we don’t like to think of God as humorous is because it is too terrifying. The God with the grim furrowed brows has the weight of the world on his shoulders. He is concerned for His Creation in the same way we are concerned over our finances. The God who Laughs has nothing to worry about. He’s carefree. The God who giggles, snickers, chortles, and guffaws exposes our precarious state. We want a God who is distraught over our situation because it validates our worth in our own eyes. We have convinced ourselves that if God worries about what I worry about then that means God cares about me. But what happens if I’m worrying about my sin and bills and pain and ridicule and disease and death and God is laughing!? We get the impression that God doesn’t care.

Jesus and his disciples were on the sea and a major storm blew in. The boat was being swamped by the waves. The disciples were freaking out. They thought they were going to die. They turned to find Jesus and Jesus was…sleeping!? Are you kidding me? Hey Jesus, wake up and do something about this! Don’t you care that we are about to drown here? Mark tells us that they literally said, “Do you not care that we are perishing?” They didn't see Jesus fretting like they were and it really bothered them. Jesus sleeping in the boat shook their souls harder than the waves shook the boat. Their panic stricken plea to Jesus revealed exactly where their faith resided. They wanted similar panic from their Lord to validate their fear, which is tied to their worth. He doesn't care about us enough to even wake up and worry like we are worrying! When they woke Jesus up, he rebuked the wind and waves, but also his disciples. “Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?”

This is why we are so unnerved at the thought of the God who Laughs. This is why it is hard for us to understand that humor is holy and sanctioned by God. Our faith is exposed and is found wanting. Jesus asked the disciples “why are you afraid?” not because He was unable to conceive why the experience of nearly drowning might be frightening, but he asked to expose their faith. He is telling them, “My sleeping in the midst of a storm ought to be a comfort to you.”  Jesus sleeping in the midst of the storm didn't give them peace. They didn't find rest in the Creator’s resting. In the same way, if God is laughing in the midst of our chaos and we react in rage or we become irritated, we are exposing our own lack of faith. God laughing in the middle of your storm, your pain, your hardship isn't a sign of unconcern or malice. He’s not laughing at you, He’s laughing for you. Rest in His laughter. Find strength in His humor. Hope is beaming from the upturned corners of his lips. What if one of the distraught disciples turned to see Jesus sleeping and in faith found the strength and hope to just lay down next to him? Just as Jesus’ sleeping should have comforted the disciples, the humor of God should comfort you. Your pain and your struggles and your hardship are nothing compared to the hope we have of eternal glory in the presence of God.

As I thought about it, the fact that God provided great strength and assurance and guidance and truth in response to my prayer at just the right moment in a line from Scooby-Doo, I couldn't help but release a breath of laughter through my nose. Contemplating the humor of God in this situation gave me greater faith and hope and a deeper realization that God’s humor and laughter indicates that He has triumphed over the curse. God laughs because the world will one day be remade, because the curse will one day be fully broken, because all my sin will be cleansed, because justice will not be overlooked, because all pain and struggle and hardship will pass away, and because my daughter’s body will one day be made whole.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Renew the Table: Christ is Present in the Supper

Renew the Table is a series of thoughts and opinions concerning the renewal of the Lord's Supper. For more information please see Goals and Disclaimers


In my previous post I put forward the conclusion that the Memorial view devalues the Lord’s Supper. I attempted to reveal that the bad fruit was due to the bad root. I proposed that the reason Memorialism devalues the Supper is because, at its root, it removes the presence of Christ from the Supper. I also said that if Christ is not present, then my accusations of Memorialism are false, for if Christ truly is not present then Memorialism, out of all the historic views, must be the correct one.

I was raised to be a pretty staunch Memorialist. I've been on the inside, so to speak. In many ways, I still am (although now subversively, I guess). As God allowed me to lead and craft worship services the cracks of Memorialism became larger and more revealing to me over the years. This led me to study and explore Church history and Scripture and after time wading through both I came through convinced that Memorialism is inadequate. But the largest hurdle for me was the presence of Christ in the Supper. I felt (and feel) that this is the issue upon which Memorialism stands or falls. As I mentioned in my previous post, the three other historic traditions, the Calvinist, Lutheran, and Roman Catholic views all maintain (though in vastly different ways) that Christ is present in the Supper and that some form of grace or benefit is given. From my Memorialist point of view, it was always assumed that if Christ is present in the Supper, no matter how you define it, it was Roman Catholic. If it even smelled like it could lead to something vaguely recognizable as being acceptable in Roman Catholic worship then the automatic, gut reaction, was to run the other direction. This mindset may have initially preserved purity in the Church’s worship, but today it often is used to avoid deeper thinking about things that really are important for the worship of the Church. There is a kind of immaturity of faith that turns tail and runs at every thorny path. The mature meet the challenge head on with the sword of the Word of God to cut through the thorny brambles to go deeper, getting to the heart of the issue.

To be honest, the theologies produced throughout Church history, while providing me with evidence that the Church did in fact believe that Christ was present and that benefits were offered in the Supper, didn't necessarily convince me that it was the case. What really changed my mind was Scripture. And one passage in particular really led the charge.

Prince Phillip getting to the heart of the issue.
"Grab yer Sword, We're Going In" 
Paul is writing to the church in Corinth. They are having idolatry problems. Some have fallen back into idolatry and some are having their consciences troubled when it comes to issues with the idolatry around them. Paul is helping them by teaching them to think right about idolatry. To battle this he appeals to the goodness of God, the freedom of the Christian, love for neighbor, and examples from Scripture. In the midst of this discussion about idolatry he touches upon the Lord’s Supper. (Before we jump in I think it is interesting to at least highlight that the Supper naturally comes to his mind when discussing worship. False worship is being contrasted with right worship. The Supper was deeply rooted to the idea of regular Christian worship. I only say this to expose how the Lord’s Supper is thought of today. At least for Memorialists, the Supper is anything but rooted regular worship.)

In 1 Corinthians 10:14-22 Paul says,

14 Therefore, my beloved, flee from idolatry. 15 I speak as to wise men; judge for yourselves what I say. 16 The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ? 17 For we, though many, are one bread and one body; for we all partake of that one bread. 18 Observe Israel after the flesh: Are not those who eat of the sacrifices partakers of the altar? 19 What am I saying then? That an idol is anything, or what is offered to idols is anything? 20 Rather, that the things which the Gentiles sacrifice they sacrifice to demons and not to God, and I do not want you to have fellowship with demons. 21 You cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of demons; you cannot partake of the Lord’s table and of the table of demons. 22 Or do we provoke the Lord to jealousy? Are we stronger than He?

First, I should say that I believe the English texts that we have here are good translations of this passage. Often people turn to the Greek words as if they will impart some form of special knowledge that the common English reader will never catch or understand. That’s not what I’m doing here. I believe the English in this passage is adequate to convey the original. So when we look at a few Greek words here, the hope is that they will only augment that which we already see in our own language. It helps us grasp the meaning (a meaning that is already there in plain English) in a clearer way.

I want to begin by looking at the words koinonia, koinonoi, koinonous, metechomen, and metechein. These words all carry with them the idea of an intimate sharing. In English they are often translated as communion, fellowship, partaking, participation, sharing. As we see in the passage above (New King James) verse 16 uses the word communion twice. The ESV renders verse 16 this way: “The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ?” Communion in the NKJV and Participation in the ESV are used for the same Greek word, koinonia. Koinonoi in verse 18 is translated partakers (NKJV) or participants (ESV). Verse 20 in the NKJV translates the Greek word koinonous as fellowship where the ESV uses the word participants again. Actually a literal translation of both koinonoi and koinonous in verses 18 and 20 might be rendered “fellow-partakers”. In verse 17 the word metechomen is translated as partake in both versions. Again, both versions use the word partake in verse 21 for the word metechein. The NIV translates this as “have a part in”. The Holman Christian Standard translates it as share.

Let’s look at the passage again with the Greek words inserted:

14 Therefore, my beloved, flee from idolatry. 15 I speak as to wise men; judge for yourselves what I say. 16 The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the koinonia of the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the koinonia of the body of Christ? 17 For we, though many, are one bread and one body; for we all metechomen of that one bread. 18 Observe Israel after the flesh: Are not those who eat of the sacrifices koinonoi of the altar? 19 What am I saying then? That an idol is anything, or what is offered to idols is anything? 20 Rather, that the things which the Gentiles sacrifice they sacrifice to demons and not to God, and I do not want you to have koinonous with demons. 21 You cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of demons; you cannot metechein of the Lord’s table and of the table of demons. 22 Or do we provoke the Lord to jealousy? Are we stronger than He?

Do you see how thick this passage is with this idea of an intimate sharing, participating, partaking, fellowshipping, communing? We have the same idea coming up six times in this single passage.

Okay, so let’s think about this a bit. If the context of this passage is about idolatry, why does Paul bring up koinonia? The reason he brings up koinonia is because he doesn't want the Corinthians to “have koinonous with demons”. The implication of this actually made me shiver the first time I really thought about it. The loud banging echo reverberating from this is that you can’t have koinonia with nothing! It takes two to tango and this is what Paul is trying to point out. In verse 19 he says that an idol is nothing and the sacrifice to the idol is nothing (When he asks “is it anything?” the inference is, no it isn't anything). But! The reality is that though the idol is nothing, that which lies behind the idol is something, and that something is demons. Therefore, in worshipping idols, in making offerings to idols (things made of wood or stone which are nothing) they are really worshipping and making offerings to a spiritual reality, namely demons. This is why Paul tells them to flee from idolatry!

But do you see how he framed his argument? Do you see what he contrasted this demonic koinonia with? The Lord’s Supper. Paul points to the spiritual reality of demonic koinonia in idol worship and contrasts it with the spiritual reality of koinonia with Christ’s body and blood in the Lord’s Supper. Something lies behind idol worship and Something lies behind the Lord’s Supper. That Something, that Spiritual Reality is being participated with and in the act of worship.

Let’s go even further. Look at the parallel in verse 21. Paul says, “You cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of demons; you cannot metechein of the Lord’s table and of the table of demons.” Paul literally equates the act of drinking with metechein, that is partaking, sharing, to have part in. Meaning drinking the cup is to take part in that Spiritual Reality. This is how the Spiritual Reality is joined with, shared in, be it with Christ or with a demon.

More than a Memorial
Now if Paul was under the assumption that Communion (koinonia) was merely a memorial, then why the warnings? If there is no real communion with demons then why bring up the idea of provoking the Lord to jealousy? Why would Paul use an argument revealing that pagan eating and drinking is a partaking of a demonic reality, that Israelite worship was a partaking of the benefits of the altar, all the while believing that Christian eating and drinking is nothing but a memorial? Paul asks “are we stronger than he?” but if Paul doesn't believe Christ is present in the Supper and yet still gives us this argument then shouldn't we be asking, “Are the demons stronger than He?” There is something more than a remembering happening here.

We see from this passage that a spiritual reality is actually occurring, namely fellowship, partaking, communion with and in the body and blood of Jesus Christ. Christ is the Reality, the Presence that we have koinonia with. We don’t just remember His body and blood, we metechein His body and blood. We see from this passage that the act of the Lord’s Supper, the act of communion, is eating and drinking. No eating, no drinking means no communion with Christ. No participation in His body and blood. If this is not the case, then Paul would be foolish to warn against eating and drinking pagan sacrifices for they are nothing and mean nothing. Paul is saying, “This pagan worship is koinonia with demons.” And at the same time he is saying (v16) “This cup of blessing which we (Christians) bless, this act of worship, it is koinonia with Christ.” There is a reality that lies behind, or within, the action.

A quick rabbit trail for the concerned pope-sniffing Baptist. Is this just a magic formula? Just say hocus pocus and eat and Bingo! you are now participating in the body and blood of Christ? Do the elements have some inherent property that grants auto-communion with Christ upon eating? Some say it is so (which is why you smell something), and they've had to justify it in some interesting ways, but I don’t think they gathered that from this passage. If they did, then they missed the passage that says ‘whatever does not proceed from faith is sin.” When we approach the Table, like anything else in worship, in life, we are to come in faith. Faith meets Christ at the Table. Unbelief at the Table only leads to judgment. One might even say that the Supper is a microcosm of the conflicting theologies during the Reformation. Does the work of eating enable you to have faith or does the faith of eating enable you to work? Wait. Where did that rabbit go? We should probably get back to the task at hand.

Yes, but How?
Granted, this passage (and frankly, all the Supper passages) doesn't give us the clear cut, sharp edged, ship shape theology that we modern systematic organizers desire. We want to know how Christ is in the Supper! (Perhaps because it offers the tantalizing promise that it would solve a lot of problems? Surely Satan wouldn't toy with us in that way...). From this passage we can glean that Christ is present spiritually, but beyond that gleaning we begin to strike out on our own path. It may be the right one, it may have some biblical support along the way, but we can’t be quite sure because it hasn't been explicitly revealed to us exactly how. The quest to unveil hidden knowledge such as this is fraught with peril. Our best bet is to stay close to the source.

It is extremely interesting to note that the Early Church didn't fret over the how. They were content to simply obey Christ in eating and drinking when they gathered. If they were curious about the how, they were at least content to leave it a mystery. It was enough that Christ was present in the Supper sustaining those who ate in faith. Christ commanded us to eat His broken flesh and drink His poured out blood, not to reverse engineer the process so we can be a better Christian theologians, or (God forbid!) that we might corner the worship market. I say this not in order to discredit every theory on the basis that they are indeed theories, nor am I saying that the theories are unhelpful. I only say this to reveal that while I may agree or disagree with certain theologies that have been passed down, what I cling to the above all of them is the foundation, the Word of God. And the Christian doctrine of the Lord’s Supper found in the Word of God affirms the presence of Christ in the Supper.

(Timber!)
I said that it was on the basis of the presence of Christ in the Supper that Memorialism stands or falls, and I believe this passage knocks it down with one of those skyscraper wrecking ball cranes. Probably some dynamite too. And if that is the case, then a serious and deep reevaluation of the Lord's Supper is needed in many, many, many (many) churches. This is the reason I'm writing in the first place. I can hold these opinions close to my chest, but, right or wrong, I love the Church and want to see Her worship in spirit and truth. I want to see the Supper restored to reflect the beauty I see in the Word of God.


In summation, it was this passage from Paul's epistle to the Corinthians, more than anything else, that convinced me of the reality of Christ’s presence in the Supper and highlighted the inadequacies of mere Memorialism (not to mention the inadequacies of those which believe in the physical presence of Christ in the Supper). Not only that, it added more weight to what I already had concluded, confirming my assumption that the infrequent observance of the Supper is an indicator of how healthy a Church’s worship is. If Christ is present in the Supper then observing the Supper ought to be valuable to our weekly worship. But that leads us to our next bump in the road; a problem that is found in the medieval church as well as the modern. An argument that the Transubstantiationalists and Memorialists alike use to justify their infrequent partaking in worship. It goes something like this: We infrequently observe the Lord’s Supper precisely because it is so valuable. We’ll tackle this in the next post.

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Renew the Table: The Root and Fruit of Memorialism

Renew the Table is a series of thoughts and opinions concerning the renewal of the Lord's Supper. For more information please see Goals and Disclaimers

In my last post I said that the infrequent observance of the Lord’s Supper was a symptom of a deeper problem. I said that infrequent observance indicates a low or inadequate view of the Supper. In this
post I want to dig into what I believe is one of the major contributing factors for this problem. My aim is to show that celebrating the Supper as a mere memorial of Christ ultimately devalues the Supper which causes or contributes to a low or inadequate view of the Lord’s Supper. Admittedly, this is a rather large bite. What we’re about to chew on here has literally been debated for 500 years. But in this case, our advantage is that we get to see how this certain view has played out over half a millennium. So there’s that.

The Root 
To sift through 500 years of weighty theological debate is pretty tough, but we can still summarize with a degree of accuracy. Since the Reformation, there are 4 views on what is happening during the Supper. Basically, we can summarize like this:

1)      Roman Catholics believe in transubstantiation – when the physical bread and wine turn into the physical body and blood of Christ – Christ is physically present
2)      Lutherans believe consubstantiation – essentially Christ’s physical body is present but the substance of the bread and wine remain the same. Christ’s body is over, through, and under the bread, but doesn't turn into the actual bread.
3)      Calvin and other reformers believe in that Christ is present in a special way, namely spiritually present at the Supper, but not bodily present.
4)      Zwingli held the view that the Supper is a memorial; that Christ is not present in any special way at the supper.

For our purposes in this post I’m not about to jump into the ins and outs of the first three views, other than to say that, while vastly different, each one believes that Christ is present in some way in the Supper and because of this, something happens. Some form of grace or benefit is obtained by the partaker.

On those grounds the fourth view makes a stark departure. And it is this view—we shall call it the Memorialist view—that most Baptists and many evangelicals adhere to (whether they know it or not). Now when we use our chronological perspective and look along the timeline from when Zwingli and Luther mouthed off at Martburg until our present day we see an undeniable development. Those who have maintained that Christ is present in some special way in the Supper have continued to celebrate the supper frequent and often and weekly and every time they gather for worship even, (to say nothing of whether or not their practice is correct).

Now this is not to say that it has been a steady line of frequent observance from 1517 until today. Hardly. There are definite peaks and valleys. But it is important to see that when these Churches began to infrequently observe, the reasons were due to either outside restrictions (via the State or financial hardship) or internal necessity (such as the pastoral need to battle a real superstition…something we'll discuss in a future post). The point being, infrequent observance was not the result of their theology, but of things that, for a season, triumphed over their theology. One of the reasons I can say this is that we have the teachers and theologians from these traditions on paper defending the frequent observance of the Supper and speaking against falling into a habit of infrequent observance. Those congregations whose theology affirms the presence of Christ in the Supper, unhindered by outside influence, have maintained a frequent observance.

Memorialism, on the other hand, from its beginnings has maintained an infrequent observance because of (rather than in spite of) its theology. Memorialism teaches that there is no special presence of Christ and no benefits from Christ in the Supper. The Supper is purely symbolic and is observed with the understanding that it is merely a memorial; a time set aside to remember. The bread and cup help aid the memory of those who partake. By stating that Christ is not present in any special way in the Supper, Memorialists, to their credit, believe that they have removed (at most) a heretical or (at least) an unhelpful doctrine from the Supper, therefore restoring the Supper as intended. A rather bold claim even during the Reformation which was undeniably a time for bold claims.

All the Reformers desired to restore and purify the Church and Her worship practices. They were often appealing to both the authority of Scripture and the example of the early church. Most of the theologies and practices they sought to reform were beliefs and practices (good or bad) that had been added to the church that were not derived from Scripture, nor exemplified in the Early Church. Stripping and removing false beliefs and unhelpful practices was essential for a reformation. In this way the intentions of the Memorialists really were noble, but the reason this was a bold claim in a time of bold claims was because it stripped and kept on stripping. The phrases like, over the line, tossed the baby out with the bathwater, you doth protest too much, come to mind. The Church for 1500 years before Memorialism actually did have a belief that Christ is present at the Supper. The early church simply accepted that Christ was present, but as the ages passed the medieval church began to investigate how Christ was present. And it was the conclusions the Roman Church made that many of the Reformers protested. They objected to the definition of How, not the involvement of Who. The Memorialists protested both. Get rid of the presence of Christ and the question of How evaporates altogether.

In light of this history, I want to briefly reveal how the removal of Christ’s presence in the Supper has influenced many churches today. What are some of the fruits Memorialism has produced? In what ways has the removal of Christ’s presence devalued the Supper?

The Fruit
The major fruit by which Memorialism devalues the Supper is that Memorialism produces an “it doesn’t matter as long as we meet the bottom line” mindset. Christ commanded we do this in remembrance of Him. So long as we do it, that’s all that really matters. The stripped down mentality of Memorialism encourages the least amount of effort. The Lord’s Supper doesn’t become a valuable part of worship so much as a box to be checked off. In this way, Memorialism is the prime option for pragmatists.

If the only thing Jesus requires is that we do it in remembrance of Him then LOTS of things don’t matter; when we take it, how we take it, what we use to take it, who takes it, etc. All of these things now fall under the umbrella of “It doesn't matter”.

We might touch on this more in a later post, but for now let’s see how Memorialism approaches the elements of the bread and wine. First, if the only thing that matters is that we do it in remembrance of Christ, then it doesn't really matter what we use to do it. We've all heard about the churches that have used Cookies and Coke, or Pizza and Pop in place of bread and wine. Although this is simply the logical outcome of a memorialistic mindset, yet, I think it’s safe to say that most Memorialists believe those options are a bit out of line. Surely going so far as to replace the actual element that Jesus commanded with something else is going a bit too far, right? (They say with Welch's on their breath). And this highlights how deep the problem goes. The only reason the Memorialist can justify grape juice over Coca-cola is because grape juice does a better job than Coke in helping us remember. It has nothing to do with whether or not coke is permissible. It has everything to do with the grape juice being good enough to meet the bottom line.

The danger (and further devaluing) here is this: who gets to determine the bottom line? And this leads us no our next example. Memorialism devalues the Supper by shifting the emphasis from Christ to the Christian. Who determined that grape juice was good enough? Was it Christ or the Christian? The scary thing is that the honest Memorialist will come to the conclusion that ultimately “it doesn't matter”. This is because the only thing that matters is that we remember Jesus when we eat and drink. That’s the real issue for the Memorialist. Grape juice became popular during the Temperance Movement. For Churches that made the switch from Wine to Welch's, the truth of the matter is that the culture actually had more sway on what the elements should be than Christ. This abstaining spirit entered the church and has stuck around to this very day, touting its authority over Christ at least four times a year. But wine and alcohol tend to get folks cranky and I don’t want it to overshadow the point, so let’s look at this from a different angle.

I said that Memorialism devalues the Supper by shifting the emphasis from Christ to the Christian. In Memorialism, the Supper becomes less about Christ and more about the individuals partaking. In case you missed it, the key word is ‘about’. There is no doubt that the Supper is certainly for the church, but we venture onto dangerous ground when we start to act as if the Supper is about the church. Just as the Bible is for you, not about you, and the sermon is for you, not about you, so too the Supper is for you, not about you. But the fruit of Memorialism is a highly individualistic and introspective preparation and partaking. A time to sink deep into you own thoughts and examine your life. Just you and God. No one else. The Supper has become a type of private, internal, confession booth. The antithesis of communion. The only unity we see in such as service is that everyone is united in acting individually. In this way the Memorialist cuts the nose from its own face. We remember more about our sins and our worth than we do about what Christ did with our sins and His worth. Jesus might as well have said, “Do this in remembrance of thee.”

In Memorialism, the fruit of removing Christ from the Supper is that something else has filled His place. His authority is usurped when it is deemed that changes to the commandment don’t really matter. His place as the Guest of Honor is filled in by the individuals pondering themselves at the table. This is the fruit of Memorialism and the reasons I give to support my claim that it devalues the Supper.

I’m still not out of the woods yet. Removing the presence of Christ from the Supper only devalues the Supper if Christ really is present. If Christ is not present, then the Memorialists are vindicated and my claim that it devalues the Supper is false. So in my next post we will look to see what Scripture reveals about all this.

Friday, September 5, 2014

Renew the Table: A Symptom of a Deeper Problem

Renew the Table is a series of thoughts and opinions concerning the renewal of the Lord's Supper. For more information please see Goals and Disclaimers

Let’s start like this: infrequent observance of the Lord’s Supper is not the problem; it is a symptom of a deeper problem. This means you can’t fix the problem by simply observing more often. That’s just masking the symptom and ignoring the real issue.

The reason I crunched the frequency numbers in the last post and belabored the fact that frequency or infrequency is an effect of a held belief is because I wanted you to see the ginormous number of churches that are exhibiting this symptom. And this, for me, serves to highlight a major roadblock to overcome. The fact that there are so many churches exhibiting this symptom skews our perspective a little. The idea being that if 50 million Elvis fans can’t be wrong, neither can 80% of SBC churches.

This do in remembrance of me...in a coupla months
When the symptom cuts across such a majority, it soon becomes settled, a mere fact of life. For years you drove to work past that plot of land until one day someone built a building on it. The landscape changed starkly and for the first few weeks you are mindful of it. But months go by and you soon adjust to the new construction, so much so that you don’t even think about anymore. You have gotten so used to it that you virtually ignore it. It has become just another blur you pass on your way to work.

In this way it is not hard to see how the majority fails to recognize the symptom. It has become so settled that it is hard to be unsettled by it. And this is where we find the difficulty, for if infrequent observation of the Supper is truly a symptom of a larger problem, then there is a majority of people don’t recognize that there is, in fact, a problem at all.

And so now we have issues. I just told 80% of SBC churches (at least) that they have a problem with their worship and that most churches probably don’t even recognize it. That’s bound to make me some friends. So while I’m at it I might as well just cut to the chase.

I contend that a church which observes infrequently has a low, or inadequate, view of the Supper. I add “or inadequate” because I believe there are many churches that infrequently observe who may hold a very high view of the Supper, but perhaps not a complete or robust view.

To that end I intend, over the next few posts, to think through some of those reasons which I believe cause or contribute to a low or inadequate view of the Lord’s Supper.

Some of these reasons center around preservation and protection of the event, such as preserving its uniqueness or guarding against things like legalism. Some reasons are related to pragmatism and seeking to be relevant to our time and culture. And some of these will be theological reasons, such as observing the Supper as a mere memorial.

In these last three posts have been saying, “I see a symptom which indicates a problem.” Going forward I want to say, “Here are the problems that might be related to this symptom. Are these true? Do any of these hit close to home?” And hopefully, either during or after we discuss the problems, I will attempt to offer a good and biblical prescription which, if doesn't lead to anything else, will at least contribute to folks thinking deeper about the Lord’s Supper.