Tag Archives: Liturgy
On Making the Lord’s Supper Normal Again
It is a typical Sunday at your local Baptist church. The service starts with some upbeat songs and maybe a Scripture reading. It continues with a time of prayer and giving, perhaps one or two more songs, a thirty- to forty-minute sermon on a particular text, and then a closing song and prayer. Everything seems normal. But then the pastor invites everyone to sit down, and the deacons begin passing plates containing small wafers and thimbles full of juice. It is communion Sunday, and suddenly everything feels different. Whether your church observes the Lord’s Supper monthly, quarterly, or only on designated occasions, communion can feel like something special added to the church’s worship rather than something that belongs to its normal rhythms. Of course, there is nothing inherently wrong with observing the Lord’s Supper less than weekly; Scripture never gives us an explicit command concerning its frequency. But when communion is something we rarely do, Christians can begin to think of it as something exceptional rather than ordinary. Yet when we look at the practice of the early church, what has become unusual for many churches seems remarkably ordinary in the life of the earliest Christians. The Lord’s Supper should therefore be recovered as a normal practice of the gathered church because the New Testament presents the Table not as an occasional ceremony added to Christian worship, but as an ordinary expression of the church’s life together in the gospel.
Perhaps the question is not simply how often we should observe the Lord’s Supper, but whether our practices have caused something ordinary in the life of the earliest church to become extraordinary in ours. We read in Acts 2.42 that, “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and to prayer.” Or again, when Paul is in Troas, we read, “On the first day of the week, we assembled to break bread” (Acts 20.7). In other words, Luke does not portray the breaking of bread as a special ceremony added to the church’s life but as part of its regular shared life. Of course, the language of “breaking bread” could encompass a larger communal meal, but the Lord’s Supper would nevertheless have belonged within this larger practice of Christian table fellowship. Table fellowship was a regular part of the gathering of the early church, and Acts 20.7 is particularly striking because Luke describes breaking bread as the very purpose for which the believers had assembled. For the earliest Christians, then, breaking bread does not appear as an interruption of the church’s ordinary life together; it appears to belong to that life. So perhaps, instead of asking, “Where or when can we fit communion into the service?” we should be asking, “Why has communion become peripheral to what we think Christians ordinarily do when they gather?”
In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul gives explicit instructions concerning the observance of the Lord’s Supper, and he continually refers to it as something that takes place “when you come together” (1 Cor. 11.17, 18, 20, 33). The irony, of course, is that the Corinthian Christians were intending to celebrate the Lord’s Supper, but their behavior so contradicted its meaning that Paul tells them, “when you come together, it is not really to eat the Lord’s Supper” (1 Cor. 11.20). Wealthy members of the congregation were eating ahead of the poorer members, and the poorer members were being humiliated. Social divisions were being reproduced at Christ’s Table. However, the important point is that Paul’s response to these errant practices demonstrates that the Supper is inherently ecclesial and communal. The Table not only proclaims, “Christ died for me,” but also, “Christ has made us one people through his death.” As Paul says in 1 Corinthians 10.17, “Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, since all of us share the one bread.” Therefore, communion is not simply an individual devotional exercise conducted in the same room as other Christians; it is an act of the gathered body. The Lord’s Supper belongs to the church because at the Table the gospel that reconciles us to God also displays the new community that the gospel has created.
Moreover, the Apostle Paul says, “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (1 Cor. 11.26). In other words, the Lord’s Supper is itself an act of proclamation. In preaching, the gospel is proclaimed through the words of the preacher; at the Table, the same gospel is proclaimed visibly and materially through the broken bread and poured cup. The point is that the Word and the Table are not competitors. Communion does not steal time from “gospel-centered worship”; communion is gospel-centered worship. The church hears what Christ has done through the preaching of the Word and then receives the signs Christ gave his church to remember and proclaim his saving work. And we must note here that Paul is clear that this proclamation continues “until he comes.” The Table therefore looks backward to the death of Christ while simultaneously looking forward to his return. As long as the church lives in the already and the not yet between Christ’s first coming and his second, it is called to proclaim the death by which its salvation was accomplished and anticipate the return by which that salvation will be consummated. What I am saying is that the Lord’s Supper is not an interruption of gospel-centered worship; it is one of the ways Christ has given his church to proclaim the gospel when we gather together.
Of course, someone might object, “If we take communion every week, won’t it become routine, empty, rote ritual?” This is a legitimate concern; our sacred rhythms can become thoughtless, and the familiarity of repetition can become mechanical if we are not careful. However, rarity does not automatically create reverence, and frequency does not automatically destroy it. Think of it this way: we don’t preach quarterly so that preaching remains special. We don’t pray occasionally to prevent prayer from becoming routine, and we don’t sing infrequently so that worship retains its significance. These practices become formative precisely through repetition, and the same can be true for communion. Regular observance at the Table reinforces the truths that Christ died for us, that we live by grace, that we belong to one another, and that Christ is coming again. The real question, then, is not frequency versus significance, but thoughtless repetition versus meaningful repetition. This is precisely where pastoral leadership matters. The Table should be intentionally connected to Scripture and the preaching of the Word so that its repeated observance continually directs the congregation to the different dimensions of the gospel it proclaims. However we approach it, the danger is not that the Lord’s Supper might become familiar; the danger is that familiarity might become thoughtlessness.
Now, to make the Lord’s Supper normal is not to make it casual or insignificant. If anything, Paul’s rebuke of the Corinthians in 1 Corinthians 11 demonstrates just the opposite. Their problem was not that they observed the Supper too frequently, but that they had lost sight of what their actions at the Table proclaimed. Their selfishness, divisions, and disregard for one another contradicted the gospel the meal was intended to display. Paul’s response was therefore not to discourage their observance of the Supper, but to call the Corinthians to discern what they were doing when they came together. The same should be true for us. Every time we come to the Table, we are reminded that Christ’s body was given and his blood was shed for us, that we belong to one another because we belong to Christ, and that the crucified and risen Lord will one day return. The Supper thus directs our attention backward to the cross, inward to the body of Christ gathered around the Table, and forward to the return of our Lord. To make the Lord’s Supper normal is not to make it ordinary in significance, but ordinary in practice—to weave it into the regular rhythm by which the gathered church is continually formed around the gospel.
None of this is to suggest that a church that observes the Lord’s Supper monthly or quarterly is somehow being disobedient to Scripture. The New Testament simply does not prescribe how frequently the church must come to the Table, and we should be careful not to create a command where Scripture has given us freedom. Nevertheless, Christian freedom does not mean that every possible practice equally reflects the patterns and priorities we find in the New Testament. Acts portrays breaking bread as part of the ordinary life of the earliest Christians. Paul assumes that the Lord’s Supper belongs to the gathering of the church, where the one bread displays the one body Christ has created. And every time the church eats the bread and drinks the cup, it proclaims the Lord’s death until he comes. Perhaps, then, we should ask whether some of our inherited practices have unintentionally pushed the Table toward the margins of Christian worship. The goal is not simply to observe communion more frequently, but to recover the Lord’s Supper as a regular, central, and joyful practice of the gathered church. Perhaps we have spent too much time trying to preserve the significance of the Lord’s Supper by making it extraordinary. The earliest Christians seem to have found its significance precisely in making it part of their ordinary life together. The Lord’s Supper does not need to become more extraordinary. Perhaps it simply needs to become normal again.
For further study, see:
On the Practice of the Lord’s Supper
On Partaking of the Lord’s Supper
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On the Beauty of the Church’s Worship
Several months ago, Matthew Barrett, then a professor at Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, announced that he was leaving the SBC to become Anglican. Shortly thereafter, he took a position as Research Professor of Theology at Trinity Anglican Seminary, and he and his family joined St. Aidan’s Anglican Church in Kansas City. He detailed his reasons for making this change in an article on his blog/newsletter, Anselm House. Basically, he suggests that the SBC “officially rejected” Nicene orthodoxy, that the SBC values image over external (read episcopal) authority, and that the “baptist” hermeneutic is ultimately individualistic in its rejection of infant baptism. Though I find these criticisms to be greatly flawed and wholly inaccurate as representations of Baptist theology and ecclesiology, it is not my purpose to respond to them here. This has already been done by several others who are more capable than me. (For example, see Denny Burke’s response here.)
Rather, I would like to respond to another component of Barrett’s argument for Anglicanism, that being the beauty and and antiquity of its liturgy. After giving a rather glowing description of the elements and order of an Anglican worship service, including pictures, he goes on to write, “What a comfort to tell our kids, “The way we are worshipping is how Christians have worshipped across history. It’s really, really old. You are participating in the church universal.”” Now, let me just say that I have no small appreciation for high church liturgy. I have previously written on the use and value of the lectionary, the Christian calendar, and church tradition. I think there is much that modern churches, with their consumeristic performance based, emotion driven worship services, could learn from these practices. However, to say that “Anglicanism is the most beautiful representation of classical Christianity” is surely to place preferences of form over matters of substance.
The fact of the matter is that the early church’s worship was simple; it revolved around Word and Table, fellowship and prayer. As we read in Acts 2.42, “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and to prayer.” Beyond this, we simply do not know what worship services in the early church consisted of. We have scattered liturgical details and other descriptions throughout the New Testament, but we do not have an official liturgy for the early church. Did they sing psalms? Probably. Did they read the Scriptures? Definitely. Did they pray together? Likely. Did they observe the ordinances of baptism an the Lord’s Supper? Clearly. Did they recite early kinds of creedal statements? Possibly. Of course, as the church grew, more formal liturgies were understandably developed, especially in the second and third centuries, and by the fourth century, there seems to have been a common or shared understanding of what the worship of the church should include and how it should progress. But, contrary to Dr. Barrett’s claim above, there is simply no proof that the Anglican liturgy is “how Christians have worshipped across history.” No doubt there are many similarities, but there is likely just as many differences that vary across place and time.
However, the more basic point that needs to be underscored here, I believe, is that the church’s worship, no matter what form or style it is expressed in, is beautiful. When God’s people gather together to sing His praise, to hear from His Word, to intercede in prayer for one another, to commemorate the Gospel is baptism and eucharist, there is simply nothing that is more beautiful, nothing more majestic, nothing more glorious. The voices of the saints singing and praying and confessing and expositing the great works of God in Christ as one gathered and united body in the Spirit is the most beautiful thing in this world. Of course, as I noted above, this beauty has sadly been lost in many churches today; we have turned the church’s worship into a show. We have exchanged beauty for spectacle, truth for emotion, participation for entertainment, and this is especially so in churches that do not come stand in the line of high church traditions. But, the point is that it is narrow minded and arrogant to suggest that one particular form or tradition of worship is the most beautiful, the most ancient, the most formation to the exclusion of all others.
In the Book of Revelation, John writes, “After this I looked, and there was a vast multitude from every nation, tribe, people, and language, which no one could number, standing before the throne and before the Lamb” (Revelation 7.9). This vision of the diversified and redeemed people of God standing before the heavenly throne praising God should help us to understand the beauty of the church’s worship. We do not all sing with one voice, we do not all worship in the same way. Every tradition, every culture, every community has its own way of worshiping God, and this is beautiful. The glory of God in Christ cannot be wholly encapsulated in just one worship tradition, but wherever there are genuine believers who are gathered together to worship God in Spirit an truth, this is beautiful. Every church has its own liturgy, whether it be formal or informal, but when we prioritize the form of our worship over the object of our worship, then we have missed the mark. Christ is the focus of our worship, there is no way that we could ever find enough ways to magnify and exult in His glory.
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On the Ascension as a Christian Holiday
According to the Christian calendar, Thursday, May 9, 2024 marked the celebration of our Lord’s ascension, because it marks 40 days after the celebration of His resurrection, which we celebrated on March 31, 2024. (See Acts 1.1-11) But for many Christians, who are not part of more liturgically minded traditions, I would surmise that this “holiday” likely came and went without any fireworks or fanfare. For most folks, it was probably just another Thursday, which like all Thursdays was likely filled with the normal day to day responsibilities of professional and personal life. The question, then, that must be answered here is why celebrate the Ascension at all? Should it be considered a “holiday” on the pale with Christmas and Easter? Or is just another ritualistic trapping of church tradition that has been held over from ages now past? In the space that remains, I would like to suggest that Ascension Day is in fact a Christian “holiday”, because it is an opportunity to reflection on and celebrate another aspect of the person and work of Christ, particularly his session at the right hand of the Father.
Etymologically, the word “holiday” comes from the Old English word hāligdæg, which literally means “holy day”, and it was originally used to refer solely to days that were set aside for religious observance. These original “holy-days” are laid out in in the church’s annual calendar. For more on the traditional Christian calendar, see my post here. The point, however, is that a holiday is first and foremost a time for celebration and reflection on what Christ has done on our behalf. Of course, this significance is mostly all but lost on the secular society in which we now live, but as Christians, we have an opportunity to recover this particular significance, especially on days that otherwise have no cultural significance. I would submit that the Ascension is just such an opportunity.
But it is necessary to ask what an Ascension holiday would even celebrate. Sadly, for most Christians, the ascension of our Lord Jesus is somewhat of an after thought. It pales in significance to other aspects of His work, e.g. crucifixion, resurrection, return. While all of those are primary for understanding the person and work of Christ, the ascension is no less significant for our reflection on what Christ has accomplished for our salvation. The ascension celebrates the enthronement of Christ at the right hand of the Father. It is the fulfillment of the most quoted Old Testament verse in the New Testament, Psalm 110:1, which says “The Lord says to my lord: ‘Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet.’” He is now seated at the right hand of God, reigning in power until such a time as He should come again to finally defeat sin and establish His kingdom on earth.
The reality that Jesus is seated at the right hand of God is rich with significance for the devotion, reflection, and worship of Christians today. From this, we understand that Christ intercedes for his people (Hebrews 7:23-25), that he rules over and guides His church (Ephesians 1:20-23), that He will come again to receive us unto Himself (John 14:2-4). The present session of Christ is vital for our understanding of the ongoing ministry of the resurrected Christ, but so many churches, so many Christians for that matter, give it such short shrift. The Ascension holiday calls us back to an understanding of Christian time, to the perspective that all of the cycles and rhythms of life should revolve around the Gospel. Jesus Christ – His person and His work – should stand at the center of Christian living, and holidays like Ascension Day, just like Easter and Christmas, call us to focus on the centrality and necessity of Christ and His work.
Of course, there is no prescribed ritual or formula for observing the Ascension. It could be as simple as a private devotion, giving some time to the reading of relevant biblical texts, to meditation and prayer. On the other hand, it could be observed with a church service dedicated to the theme in which we sing and pray together and hear a sermon on some aspect of its significance. It may mean that someone who is a member of a church that does not observe the holiday looks for a more liturgically oriented church that does. It is perfectly fine to visit and participate in other Christian worship traditions, but, of course, we must use discernment in this. Families could set aside a time for family bible study and worship in which the story and significance of the ascension is related to children or other family members. It could even include the observance of the Lord’s supper, for Jesus promised us, “I will not drink from this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom” (Matthew 26.29). And when we observe the Lord’s Supper, we “proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” (1 Corinthians 11.26)
The point of all this is to say that Ascension Day is another opportunity to extol the worth of Christ Jesus, to proclaim his powerful name, to relish in His sustaining grace that is constantly at work on our behalf. And there simply is no other person in our lives who deserves to be celebrated in this way. We celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, and other Hallmark holidays; these things order our lives. Wouldn’t it be better to order our lives around the person and work of Christ, so that we are constantly reminded of the great salvation in which we share. I think so.
For further study, see:
Schreiner, Patrick. The Ascension of Christ: Recovering a Neglected Doctrine. Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2020.
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On Common Objections to the Observation of Lent
Well, as they say, it is that time of year again. No, I am not talking about tax season; I am talking about the season in the traditional Christian calendar which is set aside for the purpose of self-reflection, examination, confession, and repentance. I am talking about that time of the year when we are asked to set aside the creature comforts that we are so dependent on and to cultivate that pure and singular dependence upon Christ through His Spirit. It is that time of year when Christians from all around the world from many varied theological and cultural backgrounds are invited to set their gaze on the cross of our Lord Jesus and the price that He paid for our sin, even as they begin to anticipate that victorious day when we will celebrate His resurrection from the dead. I am talking about the season of Lent. (For more on this season and its usefulness in the Christian life, see my post here.)
However, in most non-liturgical, low-church traditions, especially down here in the good ole’ Bible belt, the idea of observing the season of Lent is most often met with hostility and a host of objections as to why Christians should not observe this ancient practice. In this post, I would like to consider just a few of these, so that we may perhaps have a clearer understanding as to the benefits and the dangers of observing the season of Lent.
One of the primary objections that is most often given against the practice of Lent, as well as any other practice that might remotely be considered liturgical, is that it comes to us from the traditions of the Roman Catholic Church. There is a deep seated antipathy, an unstated but ever present aversion to any and all things Roman Catholic, that lives just under the surface in many Protestant denominations, and this is much to our shame. (This may be a symptom of a wider problem, i.e. the hubris of denominational tribalism that treats all those outside of our own tradition with skepticism and disdain.) Now, I will be the first to admit that there are many facets of Roman Catholic theology that I find troublesome and concerning, many aspects of their belief and practice that are hard to square with the teaching of the Bible, but we do ourselves a great disservice when we dismiss their contributions to the Christian faith altogether.
After all, the Roman Catholic Church was the only church for the first 1500 years of Christian history, and though they might have gone astray along the way, they actually got many things right. From their centuries long faithfulness comes classic formulations of doctrines like the trinity, the hypostatic union, etc., and for these we must be ever grateful. But not only in matters of doctrinal orthodoxy, but in the details of faithful orthopraxy, their contributions must be considered, and not merely dismissed. They have given us a rich and beautiful liturgical tradition which we would do well to consider in our own attempts to be faithful worshippers of Christ. Practices like the lectionary and the calendar are just some of the contributions that come to us from that tradition. I believe the season of Lent to be one of these contributions from which our faith and practice could benefit deeply. In other words, we don’t have to throw the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak.
A second objection that is somewhat connected with the first has do with the purpose of the season of Lent. In some traditions, Lent is presented as a way of “earning” God’s forgiveness, as a meritorious act by which we might deserve God’s grace, even as a kind of penance. In this light, the observance of Lent is made to be a mandatory practice for all of those who call themselves Christians. Clearly, this flies in the face of the clear teaching of the Bible. Our sins were once and for all completely forgiven when we placed our faith in Christ. This is what it means to be justified. There are no actions that we can take to earn or deserve more grace from God, because He has already poured out grace upon grace to us through the person and work of Jesus Christ. We are not required to do any works of penance for our sins, because the once and for all punishment for our sins fell on the shoulders of Jesus Christ as He was nailed to the cross to die. The payment for sin has been made in full; nothing more is necessary.
However, the repentance that God requires is more than a one time event; on the contrary, it is the lifelong discipline of a follower of Christ as we turn from our sin daily. This is the first of Martin Luther’s 95 Theses, that “When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said, “Repent” (Mt 4:17), he willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.” Repentance is a habit, and setting aside a season for intentional reflection and cultivation of that habit can be quite beneficial in the life of the Christian. Especially as we prepare ourselves for the festivities of Holy Week, which culminate in the events of Good Friday and Easter Sunday, this season can aid us in our sanctification by exposing our sin and then reminding us anew of the wonder of the atoning work of our Savior and the victory that we have over sin through His resurrection. So, while the season of Lent should not be observed as a means to earning God’s grace, it can help us to understand and appreciate the grace that we have already received in new and fresh ways.
A final objection that is often raised in this conversation is that the practice of Lent is nowhere explicitly commanded in Holy Scripture. And if I am being honest, this is the strongest objection to be considered, because we all want to be biblical in the practice and expression of our faith. This is often expressed as a formulation of the regulative principle for worship (RPW), which states, “The acceptable way of worshiping the true God, is instituted by himself, and so limited by his own revealed will, that he may not be worshiped according to the imagination and devices of men, nor the suggestions of Satan, under any visible representations, or any other way not prescribed in the Holy Scriptures.” (2nd London Baptist Confession, 1689) Anyone who believes that the Bible is the inspired inerrant Word of the one true and living God must affirm this as being true. And so, if lent is nowhere commanded in Holy Scripture, then why would we concern ourselves with observing it. Aren’t the Scriptures sufficient for all matters of faith and practice?
We are required to answer this question in the affirmative. (2 Timothy 3.16-17) YES, the Scriptures are sufficient. But just because something is not expressly commanded in Scripture does not mean that it is not beneficial for our faith and practice. There are many things we do in the practice of our faith, both personally and corporately, that are not directly commanded in Scripture. For example, the Scriptures do not command us to have Vacation Bible Schools during the summer, but almost every church I know and have been a part of has a VBS. The point is simply that no one follows the RPW absolutely; in fact, to do so would be impossible. The Scriptures give us general guidelines, and we are called to use our Holy Spirit guided Biblically informed wisdom in the specific applications of those guidelines. (cf. Romans 12.1-2) In the case of Lent, the Bible clearly emphasizes the importance and priority of repentance, and it is up to us, with the help of Scripture and tradition, to cultivate repentance in our lives.
In the final analysis, we must conclude that the decision to observe the season of Lent, whether that observance is personal or corporate, it must remain at the level of Christian freedom. For those who have come out of liturgically rigorous traditions bordering on the legalistic, where observing Lent was a matter of obligation, then I would advise against it. Instead, I would encourage you to relish in the finished work of Christ. However, for others, and I would surmise that this is most of my readers, observing Lent can be an opportunity to cultivate the spiritual discipline of repentance, to intentionally reflect on the condition of our souls, to identify those unacknowledged and unadmitted sins, and to turn again toward Christ in faithful obedience. We are hardly in danger of taking our repentance too seriously, and the season of Lent can help us appreciate anew the reality and significance of sin and its ongoing power in our lives, even as we anticipate the day when we will finally be set free from its very presence. And oh, how we long for that day! Even so, Lord Jesus, come quickly!
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On the Season of Advent
Well, it is that time of year again. ‘Tis the season, and all that jazz. Now that Thanksgiving has come and gone, the sights and sounds and smells of Christmas have begun to fill the air. However, with the month of December comes another season that sometimes gets lost in the hustle and bustle of the holidays. I am talking about the Christian season of Advent. Advent, that time of year, according to the Christian calendar, when followers of Jesus prepare themselves to celebrate the incarnation of the Savior at Christmas. Of course, the season of Advent, which consists of the four Sundays leading up to Christmas, stands at the beginning of the church year, and as such, it brings with it a sense of renewal and hope.
The name Advent comes from a Latin word that simply means “coming”, which itself is a translation of the Greek word parousia, meaning “coming”. And in the New Testament, this word almost always refers to the Second Coming of our Lord Jesus when He will return to the earth in glory and power. In other words, the season of Advent is a time when Christians reflect on the Second Coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, even as we prepare to celebrate His first coming. We look back, so that we may look forward. We look back into the hope and longing of Israel for the coming of Messiah, even as we look forward with hope and longing for the return of Messiah. And we let their expectations inform our expectation.
This sentiment is captured best in the well known hymn, O Come, O Come, Emmanuel, which begins, “O come, o come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel that mourns in lonely Exile here until the Son of God appears.” The chorus follows, “Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to you, O Israel.” Or again, in the hymn Come, thou long expected Jesus,” where we sing, “Come, thou long expected Jesus, born to set thy people free; from our fears and sins release us, let us find our rest in thee. Israel’s strength and consolation, hope of all the earth thou art; dear desire of every nation, joy of every longing heart.” And so, it is understandable that the corresponding lectionary readings for this season emphasize the prophetic expectation that is fulfilled in the coming of Jesus as Messiah.
For the follower of Jesus, then, I believe the season of Advent teaches us three things in preparation for the celebration of Christmas. First, it teaches us to wait. When we look back into the hopes of Israel for the coming of Messiah, we are reminded that they had to wait for quite some time. The last messianic prophecy is given in the Book of Malachi, and it was some 400 years or so after those words were spoken that the Christ-child was born. Even as Israel had to wait, so also we have been waiting for some 2000 years for the return of our King. And as long as He should tarry, we will continue to wait. Sadly, the notion of waiting well has been lost in our fast-paced, instant society, but Advent teaches us to wait patiently.
Secondly, Advent teaches us to hope. It is in the season of Advent that we are reminded that our hope has only partially been fulfilled. And even as we anticipate the celebration of Christmas, we are reminded that the incarnation is only half of the Gospel story. Our Lord Jesus came to this earth the first time as a baby in a manger, and He grew into a man who died on a cross for our sin and then rose again. And after His resurrection, He ascended unto the Father with a promise, that in the same way that He departed, so also would He return one day. He will come a second time with glory and power, and He will finally and permanently establish the kingdom of God on the earth in peace and righteousness. And we should long deeply for that day!
And lastly, Advent teaches us to be faithful. In other words, even as we wait, we are not waiting passively. We are not merely sitting back on our hands looking to the sky for His return. No, we have been given a commission, a Great Commission, to go into all the world making disciples of our Lord Jesus the Christ. We are called to be faithful, to serve, and love, and live in Christ-likeness, until that time when we will meet Him in the air. As the Apostle Paul puts it in the Letter to Titus, chapter 2, verses 11-13,
“For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, instructing us to deny godlessness and worldly lusts and to live in a sensible, righteous, and godly way in the present age, while we wait for the blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ.”
This Advent season, I pray that you all will be filled with this blessed hope.
For Further Study, see:
On the Use and Benefit of the Christian Calendar
See also:
On the Epiphany of Our Lord Jesus Christ
On the Season of Lent
On the Season of Easter
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On the Epiphany of Our Lord Jesus Christ
According to the Christian calendar, yesterday, January 6th, marked the celebration of a holiday known as the Epiphany of Our Lord Jesus Christ. It immediately follows the conclusion of the twelve day celebration of the festival of Christmas, which, of course, begins on December 25, and it signifies the beginning of a season in the church’s worship that lasts all the way up to the beginning of the season of Lent, which begins with Ash Wednesday, this year occuring on March 6th. Traditionally, the holiday of Epiphany commemorates the visitation of the wise men who came to worship the child Jesus which is recorded in Matthew, chapter 2.
However, for most non-liturgical churches, it is safe to say that this holiday is completely non-existent. The story of the wise men and their search for the king that would be born gets wrapped up into the warp and woof of the Christmas story, such that it loses its unique and separate import for our faith. So, by the time we come to the first Sunday of the month of January, the original significance of the Epiphany is completely lost in favor of other kinds of New Year’s foci, i.e. resolutions, goal setting, year in review, etc. Perhaps, we have become so familiar with the story of the wise men, that we have completely lost our ability to stand in amazement at this distinct and astounding scene.
The dictionary defines the word “epiphany” as a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience. And so, for Christians, this seemingly simple and straightforward scene where the wise men come to worship the child Jesus as “he who has been born King of the Jews” is actually seen to be the revelation of Christ as the Savior of the Gentiles. The Apostle Paul calls this the mystery that was hidden in ages past but is now revealed, that “the Gentiles are coheirs, members of the same body, and partners in the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel.” (Ephesians 3.6)
And it was essentially this revelation, this “epiphany”, that drove the mission of the Apostle Paul, a mission which took him all the way across the known world at that time from Jerusalem to Spain. So, the bottom line, then, is this: the celebration of Epiphany should motivate us to mission. In the same way, that it motivated Paul and the leaders of the early church, it is our responsibility as followers of Christ to take the Gospel of our Lord around the world, even to the ends of the earth. That is what Epiphany is all about.
For further study:
Sermon: On the Epiphany of Our Lord Jesus Christ
Church: Bethabara Baptist Church, Lake City, AR
Date: January 6, 2019
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On Partaking of the Lord’s Supper
So then, whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sin against the body and blood of the Lord. Let a person examine himself; in this way let him eat the bread and drink from the cup. For whoever eats and drinks without recognizing the body, eats and drinks judgment on himself. This is why many are sick and ill among you, and many have fallen asleep. (1 Corinthians 11:27-30, CSB)
Certainly, no one wants to partake of the Lord’s Supper in an unworthy way, especially if the consequences are sickness and/or death! But because of our western cultural predispositions, especially toward individualism and toward feelings of guilt rather than shame, we usually read Paul’s warnings here as if they concern our individual relationship with God. In other words, when Paul speaks of partaking of the elements in an “unworthy way,” we typically think of that which makes us feel unworthy before God, namely unconfessed sins. Moreover, when we read that “a man should examine himself”, we primarily think of some kind of moralistic introspection. Practically speaking, this usually entails a time of “prayerful self-examination and confession” prior to the distribution of the elements.
The problem with this is that rather than drawing the believer to celebrate anew the glory of God’s forgiveness in the Gospel through the observance of the Lord’s Supper, we end up heaping more feelings of guilt on the believer who truly desires to confess ALL their sins before partaking of the elements. Besides, who could ever be certain that they had confessed 100% of their sins, and thus could partake “worthily”? And what about the forgiveness that we have already received when we placed our faith in the Gospel at conversion; was it not once-for-all? So, in order to understand Paul’s warning here, I think we must reevaluate Paul’s instructions light of the social issues which they were meant to address.
The text of 1 Corinthians chapter 11 is relatively clear; obviously, there were some problems in how the Corinthians were practicing the Lord’s Supper, so much so that Paul’s comments on this issue are very sharp. He minces no words so to speak, and the reason for Paul’s outrage is simply this: The behavior of the Corinthian Christians at the Lord’s Table denies all that the Gospel stands for. In verse 20, Paul says that when they come together, they aren’t eating the Lord’s Supper. They may be sharing a meal together, but it looks nothing like the Lord’s meal. In other words, their behavior at the Lord’s Table is based in the values of the surrounding culture and not in the values of the Gospel. But in order to understand how this is so, we must consider the significance of meals in Paul’s world.
For them, the purpose of meals was much broader than simply eating food and consuming the necessary nourishment for the day’s tasks. No, in the first century, sharing a meal with someone was the primary gesture of companionship and community. Table fellowship was the principal means for establishing, enriching, and reaffirming relational bonds between groups of people, whether those groups were familial, religious, or secular in nature. Sharing meals together was the primary means for developing relationships. On the other hand, though, the table could also be the place where divisions according to honor, status, and affluence were publicly displayed and reinforced. In other words, mealtimes in the first century reinforced social divisions between the social elites and the lower classes, between the wealthy and poor, between the “haves” and the “have-nots”.
It is this latter function of meals that explains the practice of the Corinthian Christians. They are eating in a way that reinforces and perpetuates the divisions that exist among them. In chapter 11, verses 18-19, Paul says, “For to begin with, I hear that when you come together as a church there are divisions among you, and in part I believe it. There must, indeed, be factions among you, so that those who are approved may be recognized among you.” And this is why their coming together is not for the better but for the worse. Apparently, the more well-to-do and affluent members of the congregation were arriving at the meeting early, gorging themselves on the best foods and the best wine, and they were getting downright drunk. Then, when the poorer day laborers arrived later in the evening, there was nothing left for them to eat, so they went hungry.
For Paul, this is an explicit denial of the unity that they should be sharing in Christ. Listen again to the words of Paul in chapter 11, verse 22, “Don’t you have houses to eat and drink in? Or do you look down on the church of God and embarrass those who have nothing? What should I say to you? Should I praise you? I do not praise you for this!” Obviously, Paul is outraged, and as a corrective, he reminds them of the Lord’s Supper tradition. In other words, he reminds them that in the Gospel, cultural values like honor, status, and wealth are no longer relevant. All people stand or fall on their response to the Gospel no matter who they are. And the gospel not only transforms our relationship with God; it also transforms our relationship with others. We no longer see people as the world sees them; instead, we see them as Christ sees them. We relate to people according to the values of the Gospel, because the ground is level at the foot of the cross. We all stand equally in need of Jesus.
So, in order to understand Paul’s warning in chapter 11, verses 27-30, we must remember that the central issue at stake for Paul is not moral or ethical; rather, it is primarily communal or social. The question is not about one’s individual worth before God. Rather, it is the quality of our relationships with each other. In other words, it is primarily social in nature. The self-examination that Paul envisions is an attempt to evaluate one’s attitudes toward others in the light of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. So, we might ask ourselves these questions:
Am I showing Christian love to the members of this community equally?
Am I reinforcing or breaking down worldly social distinctions by my actions?
Am I jockeying, competing, or striving for social advancement at the expense of others?Am I selflessly giving of myself, my time, my money in order to benefit others?
Am I evaluating people according the values of the culture or the values of the Gospel?Am I engendering unity or disunity within this community by my actions and behaviors?
If we will examine ourselves in this way, by honestly answering these questions, then we will be rightly discerning the body, and we will partake of the Lord’s Supper worthily. The Lord’s Table is where anyone who believes in Jesus Christ can come to receive the promise of pardon and forgiveness and bask in the grace and love of God the Father poured out through God the Son by the Holy Spirit. Let us celebrate this table together as one body of united believers in Jesus.
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On the Practice of the Lord’s Supper
More often than not, the way that the Lord’s Supper is practiced in low church traditions makes it seem as if the Lord’s Supper is a perfunctory addendum to the worship of the local church. Our usual practices of observance treat it as something that we are obligated to do because the Bible says so, but also as something that we don’t really believe to be all that important or crucial in worship. High Church traditions with formal liturgies, by contrast, tend to observe the Lord’s Supper every week, and they do so at the very climax of their services. In these churches, coming to the Lord’s table to partake of the body and blood of Christ, symbolized by the bread and cup, marks the very zenith of the worship experience. Congregants are presented with the Gospel through scripture reading and preaching and then invited to the Table to receive the Gospel by the Spirit as they partake of the elements.
Now, I grew up in a local Southern Baptist church in a small town in Arkansas, the buckle of the Bible Belt, and our practice of the Lord’ Supper usually went something like this. It always happened after a Sunday night service. First, we would have our 20-30 minute singing time, and then the pastor would preach a 25-30 minute message. Remember, the services weren’t supposed to go more than an hour. So, after the invitation we would move into a time of observing the Lord’s Supper. And it was always done the same way. The pastor tended to say the same words, read the same texts, and the elements were passed out the same way. Of course, time was always given for personal reflection and confession so that none of us would “partake unworthily.” Still, I was left with the impression that the Lord’s Supper was something to be observed out of duty and not out of joy.
Paul said, “For as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” (1 Corinthians 11:26) Certainly, there is great freedom in the diversity of worship expression throughout churches across the world, and Paul, nor the rest of the New Testament authors, give any kind of regulation regarding the expected frequency of table observance. But it does seem, at least, that they viewed the Table as a central and primary element in the church’s worship, precisely because it is at the table that we come face to face with the very heart of the Gospel. In addition, the earliest Christians set the precedent, because “they devoted themselves to the apostle’s teaching, to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and to prayer.” (Acts 2:42) Of course, the celebration of the communal meal in the early church would have been more, but it certainly wouldn’t have been less than the observance of the Lord’s Supper.
So, it would seem that there is great spiritual and communal value in giving the Lord’s Table a much more central place in our weekly worship services. Perhaps, instead of observing once per quarter on a Sunday night at the end of the service, we should observe weekly during Sunday morning worship as the primary expression of our response to the Gospel invitation. This way of ordering our worship is what has been called the fourfold pattern for worship, i.e. gathering, Word, table (response), sending. This seems to be the historic ordering of the church’s worship throughout the ages. More simply, it follows the biblical pattern for worship which is proclamation followed by response. We gather together as the body of Christ through song and prayers. The Word is proclaimed through public reading and preaching. We respond in confession and repentance at the table. And, then, we are sent back into the world as God’s ambassadors and emissaries.
The importance of the Lord’s Table really boils down to how importantly we value the Gospel, because it is at the table that the Gospel is vividly and materially displayed through partaking of the bread and cup. So, by observing the Lord’s Supper each and every week, we move the Gospel to the center of our worship experience. When we partake of the elements, we are communing with the Spirit as he communicates the good news of the Gospel anew to us each and every week. The Spirit meets us at the Table, and He conveys the grace of God as we partake of the symbols of bread and cup. Jesus explains this very fact in John 6:53-58 where he says in part, “The one who eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in him.” (v.56)
Now, certainly, observing the Lord’s Supper each and every week requires great creativity on the part of pastors and worship leaders. Some have argued that partaking of the Supper every week would diminish its unique peculiarity and significance, but this is not necessarily the case. The onus lies with the pastors and worship leaders to incorporate the Table into the flow of the service in ways that are creative, meaningful, and refreshing. The invitation to the Table each week should flow directly out of the Scriptures that are being read and preached on that particular Sunday. The proclamation of the Gospel through the reading and preaching of Holy Scripture should drive our worship right back to the Table where our forgiveness and pardon are confirmed by the broken body and shed blood of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
I believe that there is a great need in the church today to recover the centrality of the Gospel, and I can think of no better way than coming to the Table each and every week to receive the symbols of our Lord’s broken body and shed blood. We are essentially and fundamentally a Gospel people. We never out grow or mature beyond the wonder and mystery of the Gospel. Whether we have been saved for many years or we have recently come to know Jesus as Savior and Lord, the Gospel is for us. Lord, help us to recover the priority, the mystery, and the wonder of your Gospel as it is displayed at your Table.
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On the Use and Benefit of Tradition
In my recent posts, I have addressed the use and benefit of the lectionary and of the Christian calendar respectively. I also discussed the season of Lent. Here in the “buckle” of the Bible Belt, these types of discussions necessarily raise the bigger question about the church’s interaction with larger church history and tradition. Given the fundamental roots of most churches in this area, there is unspoken antagonism, or almost hostility, to adopting or adapting anything from the great traditions of church history. We have “no creed but the Bible” as it is often stated. It’s almost as if people believe that there was Jesus and the Apostles and now there is us, and no one has ever tried to follow Jesus in between the two. This kind of attitude leads to a Christian experience that is largely ahistorical, ungrounded, and lacking in any kind of depth or richness. This is easily seen in the lack of definition, conviction, and identity among so-called Evangelicals in the larger American culture.
The bottom line is that every church, every community for that matter, has some kind of tradition, whether formal or informal, whether spoken or assumed. And to act as if this is not so is simply intellectually dishonest. Traditions are the building blocks of culture; they are how culture is passed on from one generation to the next. Without them, ideas, values, and habits would die out and fade away as if they never existed. We are traditioned creatures, and that is not such a bad thing. Traditions tells us who we are and what we value, and they form our identity as members of the community to whom those particular traditions belong.
Of course, not all traditions are good and/or beneficial. There are many examples throughout Christian history going all the way back to times of Jesus or even into the Old Testament where the traditions of men were placed above the commands and teachings of Holy Scripture, where they were used to enslave people and populations rather than lift them up into the godly life. The Old Testament prophets, Jesus himself, and the New Testament authors are all very specific in their critiques of the misuse of traditions. But this does not mean that we may simply disregard them as having no benefit. Even Jesus kept the traditions of His people as an upstanding Jew.
Now, when it comes to the Great Tradition, as it is sometimes called, there are basically three ways we can respond, which are not original with me but are helpful nonetheless. We can reject the parts that are out of date, inappropriate, and/or unhelpful. We can receive the parts that are still good, helpful, and uplifting. Or we can “redeem” the parts that can be useful and beneficial by changing what is bad and reframing what is good. Reject. Receive. Redeem. Or, said another way: abandon, accept, accommodate, but the meaning is essentially the same.
The parts that we reject are easily identifiable, and most, but not all, stem from the Roman Catholic Church, because that was the only church for the first 1500 years of Christian history. So, concepts like those that pertain to the pope or the virgin Mary or purgatory, for example, are all parts of church tradition that we rightly reject. The Reformers were quite specific in their attacks on the traditions of the Catholic Church with which they disagreed. Another example of a tradition that we rightly reject might be John Calvin’s perspective on infant baptism. There is much we can learn from the writings and teachings of Calvin, but we should rightly reject his teaching on that particular topic. There are others, which need not be enumerated, but suffice it to say that some traditions that we see in Church history are temporally bound, specific to a particular people in particular place and time, and these should be respected and understood while not being emulated. Still others are downright unscriptural and should be rejected altogether.
Some parts that we can receive are the historic creeds of the church, e.g. the Apostle’s Creed, the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed, the Chalcedonian Creed, and the Athanasian Creed, and the insights from the historic ecumenical councils. There are also plenty of confessions and catechisms that have been passed down through the ages that still hold great value for theological education today. Southern Baptists themselves have their own version of this in the Baptist Faith and Message, first adopted in 1925, revised in 1963, amended in 1998, and revised again in 2000. Another aspect of the Great Tradition that we can receive are the writings of the great figures of church history, especially those that have withstood the test of time. From the patristic era, through the medieval era, the Reformation era, and into the modern era, there have been great Christian writers, thinkers, theologians, and pastors whose teachings are preserved for us in their literary works. As I pointed out above, we do not have to agree with them on every point, but there is still much we can learn from the timeless classics of the Christian faith. This is as true for the pastor, theologian, or professor as it is for the medical doctor, lawyer, grocery worker, or farmer who believes in Christ. If has often been said and it bears repeating that we should spend more time working through old books than we do sprinting through new ones.
Lastly, some aspects of the Great Tradition that we might redeem include things like the lectionary and the Christian calendar among others. These would fall under the category of devotional and ministry practices, both those for individuals and those for communities. The question of how the Spirit forms us into the image of Christ is not a new one. Faithful Christians throughout the ages have walked the same path of Christian discipleship that we are called to walk today. Certainly the challenges may be different in our cultural context than it was in theirs, but the principles and values have remained mostly the same. We are still called to grow in Christ-likeness, to advance the Gospel in our neighborhoods and around the world, and to love each other as Christ loves us. And we can learn a lot from the beliefs and practices of those who have gone before us.
The Great Tradition of the church is the norma normata (the norm that is normed), and Holy Scripture is norma normans non normata (the norming norm that cannot be normed). Yes, we should hold fast to the doctrine of Sola Scriptura, but we cannot allow that belief to devolve into nuda scriptura. If we can learn to drink deeply from the springs of Christian tradition, instead of isolating ourselves in the now, then I believe that we will find our faith experience to be more enriched and more robust, than what is currently on offer in the Christian culture of today’s churches.
For further study, see:
Williams, D.H. Retrieving the Tradition and Renewing Evangelicalism: A Primer for Suspicious Protestants. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1999.
Also updated in:
Williams, D.H. Evangelicals and Tradition: The Formative Influences of the Early Church. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Academic, 2005.
