What should we think about at the table?
A personal reflection, by Brad Isbell
At my church, the Lord’s Supper elements are distributed (the bread then the wine), held, and then the congregants partake in unison to demonstrate the communal nature of the meal. I like this way of doing it though it’s certainly not the only way. The holding gives time for reflection. Because it might be helpful to someone, I’ll share some of the things I think about during this time. Again, a disclaimer: this is not necessarily what you should think about while participating in the supper.
THE BREAD we use is unleavened. A church member makes it to a standard recipe from the wife of a notable PCA pastor. A number of presbyterian and Reformed churches use it. It is a bit cookie-like but not too sweet. I am perfectly happy with it, but if I were to change anything I’d add salt, take away sugar, and maybe add some herbs. This bread’s best property is that it sheds fine crumbs as you hold it. Let me explain.
We should think of Christ’s real human body when handling the bread. “Jesus Christ is both God and man, and that makes all the difference” was my mantra once when teaching Christology to teenagers. The real human body of Christ reminds us of his real human nature, of the reality of his earthly existence. Crumbs help with that in tactile ways. Adam was formed from the dust of the ground; the Second Adam’s flesh was formed from similar stuff. The dust and grit remind us of the sandaled feet of our Savior treading dusty roads or hard cobblestones. What is onerous for us now in everyday life was also hard for him—he identified with us. He was not “unable to sympathize with our weaknesses.” Dirt and dust, mud and sand troubled him as they do us, yet he suffered the indignities and disappointments without sin, pique, grumbling, or ingratitude. It’s good to be reminded that Jesus suffered without sin so he could be our spotless substitute. Like Machen, we ought to be “so thankful for the active obedience of Christ” since there is “no hope without it.”
Holding the inch-square piece of bread (so much better than the tiny communion pellets we used to purchase from Lifeway) between thumb and forefinger, my attention is drawn to my wrist. I am reminded, Christ had wrists as real as my own. Of course, my wrists have never been driven through with nails. It’s hard to think of Christ’s body without thinking of his sacrificial death. The remembrance of all these things which the bread can symbolize sustains us and helps to grow us in grace. So much for the bread.
THE WINE in the little cup is a big deal. The fragrance of it reminds us of the pleasing aroma that Christ’s bitter death was to the Father, who received it as an acceptable offering—one we could never make. Wine (and especially grape juice) can taste sweet. If the fruit of the vine is sweet, I think “What was bitter for Him is sweet for me.” The redness of the wine points to the blood, of course. The life of the flesh is in the blood, and Christ spilled his for sinners, dying a real human death.
When I was a newspaper photographer (who often took crime scene photos for the police and coroner) I learned a few things about blood. One is that fake movie blood is far more dramatic than the real thing. Real shed blood soon turns dark, like wine in a cup in a dim room, and dead bodies soon turn pale. Death quickly becomes a black-and-white matter. Our simple, somber celebration of the supper is perfectly appropriate, but the truths it tells are joyous as well: “wine to gladden the heart of man…and bread to strengthen man’s heart.”
WHAT WE OUGHT TO THINK ABOUT, of course, as we partake is the whole range of biblical truths concerning Christ’s life and death. Some may be able to think in theologically precise ways at the table. Others (like me) who are easily distracted may need to stick to a few simple concepts and connections. May we all approach the table discerning the body, with knowledge, and “with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire,” remembering that the fires of the Father’s wrath were poured out upon Christ our substitute whom the grave could not hold, who death could not defeat.
…and since you brought it up…. Grape juice at communion? Did Jesus offer grape juice or did he offer wine? Why do we serve grape juice and not wine? Is there any sin more presumptuous than correcting Christ’s ethics concerning wine?
There were three relevant inventions in the late 19th century. First, in response to the cultural mandate, was Pasteur’s development of the pasteurization process, his goal being to prevent fermented wine from “going bad.” Next was the Welches application of pasteurization to freshly pressed juice. Third, in reaction to the Christian Temperance Movement, were the notions that “Jews from time immemorial have used only fermented (alcoholic) wine at Passover” and that Christians since the time of Jesus have used only the same in the Lord’s Supper.
None of the Lord’s Supper accounts in Scripture use the word wine. It is an inference that Jesus used fermented wine, but not a necessary inference leading to a universal prescription. Furthermore, as noted by Aristotle, the word wine is ambiguous, including anything from the juice yet in the grape (Isa. 65:8), to freshly pressed juice or new wine flowing out of the presses (Isa. 16:10), to aged wine (Luke 5:39), to sour wine or vinegar (Matt. 27:48). The ancients also used boiled wine, raisin wine, and inspissated wine. We simply are not told how the disciples prepared either the bread or the “wine” used at the Last Supper.
Josephus in his retelling of Gen. 40:11 used both “fruit of the vine” and “wine” to refer to freshly squeezed grape juice. The Jewish Talmud speaks of fresh juice as being fine for libation purposes. There are several historical accounts from the 4th through the 13th centuries of Christians using grape juice for the Lord’s Supper. Nowhere was there a requirement that wine be aged for a certain amount of time to be acceptable. Even Calvin, Beza, and Matthew Henry believed fermented wine was not essential for communion.
Part of the problem is the narrowing of meaning of “wine” in English. Webster’s 1864, 1879, & 1884 International Dictionary of the English Language defined “Wine” as “1. The expressed juice of grapes, especially when fermented; A beverage or liquor prepared from grapes by squeezing out their juice and (usually) allowing it to ferment.” Notice the words “especially” and “usually,” not “always.” But the word has evolved to now mean fermented wine only.