‘While they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to his disciples, saying, ‘Take it; this is my body.’ Then he took a cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, and they all drank from it.’ Mark 14:22-23
Both in church and in prison recently I’ve thought to myself how easy it is as a minister from a Free Churches tradition to miss out on the simple meal of remembrance Jesus called us to. But two things strike me here; firstly how simple is this meal really, and secondly just how much we really do miss out? The Eucharist, Lord’s Supper, Communion or Breaking Bread together service naturally draws us towards the symbolism, perhaps the sacrementalism, the very act of remembrance, and the presence of the Trinity in this meal. When I share communion in prison I am drawn time and again to the willingness with which Jesus shared this event with one who has been so often vilified over the years, his betrayer Judas.
Over the years many theologians have discussed the fellowship gathered together to meet with their Lord in a special act of remembrance. Arguments have flown about the nature of the elements and their meaning during the service, who can and cannot administer which parts of the service, the effects on the participants of not taking Jesus’ call to recognise him seriously and so on. However recently I’ve been drawn to think several times about Jesus calling us to do this simply because it is another thing that is good for us, drawing us closer to him, to his Father, and to the Spirit.
Bread and wine – simple, yet hugely complex elements. My brother-in-law has recently taken up the hobby of wine-making, and anyone looking at the spreadsheets he has created to help him monitor the progression of his creations would conclude that this is anything but simple. And anyone who has watched Paul Hollywood dissect a piece of bread on bakeoff would again know that there is more to this flour and yeast combination than meets the eye! Collaboration with the natural processes of fermentation to my untrained eye certainly has something of the mysterious about it.
