Remembering Rightly Until He Comes

I had the privilege of leading our congregation in the Communion part of the liturgy today at church. I thought about what I would say all week and tried to put a lot of work into it. Here are some of the thoughts I conveyed, plus some…

Because we take the Lord’s Supper every week, I’ve been more reflective on its meaning now than I ever have in my entire Christian life. Because of the constancy of my participation in this ritual I’ve had a number of ‘ah-ha’ moments. I’d like to share one of them with you.

One of the more meaningful thoughts I’ve had during the Lord’s Supper is articulated most clearly in Paul’s first epistle to the Corinthians:

“The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me. In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.”

Here we observe that the Eucharist has two functions – 1. Remembering a historical event, 2. Envisioning a future event.

Remembering a Historical Event –
The Eucharist looks back to the saving events in redemptive history, particularly the cross, where the body of Jesus was crushed and the blood of Jesus was spilled out for us. But this remembering is more than merely a cognitive function. No, far from it, “remembering” in the biblical sense involves participation in the saving events of history, themselves: When Jesus says to do this in ‘remembrance’ he is calling on us to enact this ritual as a means of participating in the redemptive work of God throughout history. In other words, when we participate in the Lord’s Supper, when we eat his flesh and drink his blood, we become one with not only his death, but also those throughout time and space that have become one with his death. We are united with Jesus, and through him we are also united with the disciples at the Lord’s Supper. We are united with the Son of God, and through him we are united with the first century saints who lived in light of the resurrection. We are united with Christ, and through him we are united with the slaves leaving Egypt who placed the lambs blood on their doorposts. In remembering this act this morning, we are collapsing these sacred, historical events into the present and thereby claiming that story as ours – or rather, placing ourselves in that story.

Envisioning a Future Event -
The Christian church is not merely a people who look to the past as the ‘glory’ days. No, far from it, we are a people who are future oriented, waiting for the return of our King. This is why Paul connects the “in remembrance” with the “until he comes.” When we participate in this body and blood before us, we are staking our claim in the future. We are saying that the temporal sufferings, trials, idols, sins, and calls for allegiance in this life have no ultimate claim on us. We are a people who, in participating in this event, participate in the anticipatory story of a Returning King! When we unite ourselves to this returning King in this way we proclaim that his return, though having not yet occurred, is still an established fact. In doing so we are not only united with that King, but we are united with all people, everywhere, in all times who have this hope. And, again, we collapse the future, sacred time, into the present and claim the future of this story as ours – or rather, placing ourselves in that story which goes beyond this present moment and envisions the Kingdom of God come to earth.

So, in both the remembering of historical acts of saving grace and the anticipation of future salvation, this Means of Grace event collapses all time, space, and believers into the present, uniting us under one God, who is Father, Son, and Spirit by enacting the story of redemption in our midst.

Think on these things brothers and sisters.

The Spirit and Ceaseless Prayer

I’ve always found impossible Paul’s imperative to “pray without ceasing.” I mean, seriously, who has time for that? Even Luther’s comment that he’s so busy that he feels he has to pray for 3 hours a day doesn’t quite get at Paul’s impracticable “without ceasing” requirement – 3 hours is hardly “without ceasing.” Surely Paul doesn’t expect me to kneel beside my bed for all 16 waking hours.

But what if “without ceasing” isn’t a measurable category? What if I can’t set my stop-watch count this kind of prayer? What if I can’t gauge it? What if it can’t be calculated by the time I spend on my knees next to my bed or verbalizing prayers from the Lectionary?

I had a liberating thought a while back: Unceasing prayer can only be done in communion with the Holy Spirit…..Here me out before you say, “Thank you Captain Obvious!”

You see, this kind of prayer cannot be put on our check-list of spiritual activities for the day. Rather, it is a continual and constant communion with the Spirit throughout the day. It is the recognition that the Spirit, as a person, is always present and always engaged with us. Like the face of the Deep in Genesis 1:2, the Spirit hovers over us, always drawing us out of the chaos and into communion.

This is also a recognition that all our mundane tasks – “when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up” (Dt. 6:7) - can be done in communion with the Spirit, with an ever increasing awareness of the Spirit’s nearness. God is not distant, God the Spirit desires us to delve deep in Trinitarian fellowship.

So, while Luther’s 3 hours is important (especially as a discipline), we cannot restrict our communion with the Spirit of God to 1/8 of our day. The Spirit’s presence permeates every aspect of our lives. Every cry of our heart against injustice, even the ones we don’t utter prayers for, is heard by the Spirit as an appeal to the Father to set things right. When we hurt the Spirit groans and prays for us – even though we haven’t uttered a word.

No longer do I find Paul’s imperative an impossibility. No longer do I assume I don’t have time for that. No longer am I convicted by Luther’s prayer life in comparison with mine. Ceaseless is as simple communion with another person. It is the desires and thoughts which invite God to establish His kingdom on earth. It is our efforts to work with the Spirit to display, as true image bearers, God’s name in a chaotic and rebellious earth. It is the orientation of our being to God’s Spirit. It is our groanings to have heaven touch earth in such a way that Christ is revealed in all his goodness. In these things we draw deeper into communion with the Spirit, deeper into participation in the divine nature. In these things we pray without ceasing.