Epiphany 5
1 February 2026
Vineville Baptist Church
Macon, Georgia
Gregory Pope
IN THE BEAUTY OF HOLINESS:
The Sacred Acts of Worship
(#4 of 7)
BREAD FOR THE JOURNEY: DINING AT GOD’S TABLE
Exodus 12:1-11. 1 Corinthians 11:23-26. Luke 24.13-35
If scripture and sermon provide “words for the journey,” then the elements we receive from God’s table provide “bread for the journey.”
For the first 1500 years of the church Christian congregations gathered around the table every Sunday during worship. Catholics, Orthodox Christians, Disciples of Christ, Anglicans and Episcopalians continue to gather at the table every week. At the time of the Protestant Reformation in the 16th century, there came a renewed emphasis on preaching, along with a strong anti-Catholic bent, and the frequency of gathering around the table began to diminish.
In Baptist circles where preaching is often the center of worship (not necessarily the best thing), we usually only gather around the table once a quarter. Many Baptists now gather at the table once a month. Some Baptists gather at the table weekly.
Baptists have characteristically emphasized the word of God over the table of the Lord. Which, in one sense, astounds me. Can you believe Baptists would prefer preaching over eating!
When giving a reason for infrequent Communion there are those who express a fear that greater frequency would result in a diminished meaning. However, the testimony of those who gather around the table weekly is that the meaning of the table increases with more frequent participation.
A Catholic college roommate of mine who on occasion would suffer through my early sermons at the Baptist church I pastored would say how worship felt incomplete without what he called the Eucharist. He said it was his weekly spiritual nourishment.
Others who disagree with the notion that frequent participation at the table diminishes its meaning liken their encounter to Christ at the table to an encounter with a loved one. Think about it: Do you want to see your child or make love to your spouse only once a quarter? (There is a joke here, but I will refrain.) On a more spiritual note: Do you only want to pray or read scripture once a quarter? Does prayer lose its meaning if you talk to God every day?
I tend to think Baptists and other Protestants refrain from weekly or even monthly communion for a couple of reasons: One, for fear of seeming Catholic (which is not very mature). And two, because communion services often create a somber tone, and we prefer to feel good when leaving worship. I think this somber tone has a lot to do with our having limited the table’s meaning to a remembrance of Jesus’ death, making worship feel more like a funeral.
This morning I hope to broaden our understanding of what happens at the table – what it means, and how it can be more meaningful.
I want to begin by addressing the question: Is this meal at the table an ordinance, a symbol, a sacrament, or a combination of all three?
Baptists usually refer to the table as an ordinance, meaning, along with baptism, they are the two acts ordered by Christ for the church to observe. And while that is true: Who looks forward with anticipation to an ordinance? Doesn’t city council also issue ordinances? Who wants to do something because they are ordered to do it?
As to the question of symbol or sacrament, Baptists have often called it a symbol, or actually we say it is “only” a symbol. This is no doubt in reaction against a Catholic understanding that the bread and wine actually become the body and blood of Jesus, a belief known as transubstantiation – a transfer of substance.
Though historically Baptists have not accepted this understanding, and I personally do not believe that the bread and wine literally become the body and blood of Jesus, the Catholic view cannot be called heresy. Catholics are simply taking the words of Jesus literally. (Something in which many Baptists usually take pride.) Jesus said, “This is my body. This is my blood.” He did not say, “This bread is a symbol of my body and this wine a symbol of my blood.” In even more disturbing language to Baptist ears are Jesus’ words in the Gospel of John when he says, “Unless you eat my flesh and drink my blood, you have no part of me.” This certainly sounds like more than “just a symbol.” If you take the words of Jesus seriously, it’s hard to fault anyone for a belief that the bread and wine become the body of blood of Jesus. It’s especially hard to find fault when we take other sayings of Jesus literally.
As to the issue of symbol, do you talk about the American flag has “only a symbol,” especially when someone sets it on fire? Is your wedding ring “only a symbol”? Is the cross “only a symbol”? Symbols are powerful things. They have deep meaning. They carry something of what they represent within them. The meal at this table is a powerful symbol.
Dare we call it a sacrament? Well, that depends on how you define a sacrament. Some understand a sacrament to be something necessary for eternal salvation. That is, it bestows saving grace on those who receive it. While that may be its meaning for some Christians, that is not the only nor is it the primary meaning of sacrament.
“Sacrament” is a combination of two words: “sacred” and “mental.” In its strict sense, a sacrament can be anything that brings the sacred to mind. The classic definition is that a sacrament is “an outward sign of an invisible grace.” That means that a sacrament can be any thing, any moment, any situation where we experience grace. Forgiveness can be a sacrament. Failure can be a sacrament. A sermon, a song, a prayer, a relationship, a walk through nature, sitting in sacred spaces, and many other encounters through which we experience the grace of God can all be considered sacraments.
I admit a fondness for the word. I love the way it sounds: Sacrament. And with a broader understanding of the word I think many of us can attest to sacramental grace-filled moments around this table.
It is a little known fact that early Baptists referred to the Lord’s Supper as a Sacrament.
Now, having said that: What does this table mean? What happens when we come to the Table?
Our Old Testament reading this morning calls us to consider this table’s connection to Passover. Passover is the experience of the Hebrew people where they were saved from slavery and death in Egypt. They were given a meal to sustain them as they made the journey from slavery to freedom, “passing over” from death to life. The meal was truly, for them, bread for the journey. Jews still remember and participate in the Passover meal.
It was the Passover meal that Jesus had instructed his disciples to prepare for in the Upper Room of someone’s house during the last week of his life. While debate continues as to whether or not Jesus redefined the Passover meal with new meaning, there does seem to be a connection with Passover. “Like the Passover, [the bread and wine are] to be received as provision for an urgent journey” as we seek to follow the way of Jesus.1 Because Jesus “instituted” this meal of bread and wine after they had already eaten supper, this meal at the table is sometimes referred to as “The Lord’s Supper.” That was likely the most popular nomenclature for those of us who grew up Baptists.
In fact, the original setting for this meal we observe in worship in connection with Israel’s Passover and Jesus in the Upper Room is a table full of food, which after everyone has eaten, the bread is broken and the wine is poured and Jesus is remembered. It would be very appropriate to share following Wednesday evening suppers.
This Supper was instituted by Jesus with his disciples “on the night he was betrayed.” That’s important to know. Because a big issue throughout the history of the church has been who can and cannot partake of the Lord’s Supper. But before we ever think of keeping someone away from this table, before we refrain from the table ourselves, thinking only the faithful and pure can partake, let us recall that this meal was first taken by Judas who would betray him, Peter who would deny him, and the rest of the disciples whom Jesus knew would eventually forsake him. This Table is not for the pure and holy. It is for sinners just like you and me.
Jesus says to us each time we gather around the Table to eat the bread and drink the cup, “Do this in remembrance of me.” We remember his death. Paul said that at the Table “we proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” The Lord’s Supper is sometimes called “The Great Sacrifice,” as we remember the sacrifice of Christ on the cross, revealing God’s self-giving love for all of us, and calling us to give of ourselves for others. The death of Jesus is a central focus of this supper.
But it is not the only meaning. Jesus doesn’t limit our remembrance of him to his death. In fact, if we only remember the death of Christ all we have is a dead Christ. The early church celebrated at the table not on Friday – the day of his death, but every Sunday on the Lord’s Day, the day Christ had risen from the dead.2 When the death of Jesus is the only focus during the Supper we will not want to participate too often because it will always be observed in the manner of a funeral.
What is important to realize is that a remembrance and proclamation of the crucified and risen Jesus at the table can possess a spirit of celebration. This is the body of Christ broken for us, the blood of Christ establishing a new covenant with God. We are forgiven. We belong to Christ. God is with us. And that is good news – a reason for celebration. When we gather around the table we need to remember everything about Jesus – his life, his teachings, his love, his acceptance, his death, his resurrection, the kingdom of God he birthed among us and the community of the church into which we have been baptized and the final heavenly banquet described in the Book of Revelation.
And when we say “remember” it’s more than just a trip down memory lane. The biblical word is “anamnesis,” a way of remembering that brings the past into the present in order to experience it again. “Remembering is not living in the past. It is pulling into the present the deepest realities that have sustained us and will sustain us.”3 When we “do this in remembrance of Christ” Christ is present with us. He is present because this is not a memorial service. He is not dead. He is risen. And through his Spirit he comes to dwell among us as we dine at his table for the Supper.
This meal is also called The Eucharist, a biblical word meaning “to give thanks.” It comes from Jesus’ own actions. As the gospels record it, Jesus took the bread and “gave thanks.” This is a critical element to a Jewish meal where God is given thanks for the basic elements of bread and wine. The Lord’s Supper is a eucharistic meal, a celebration of thanksgiving where we give thanks to God for the gifts of creation, for bread and wine, for the gift of Christ, his life, his death, his resurrection, his love, his grace, his forgiveness.
And we give thanks for a Holy Communion that takes place around this table. Paul referred to our participation in the Supper as a communion with Christ (1 Cor 10:16-17).
There’s a beautiful story in the Gospel of Luke that speaks of this communion and reveals to us that the breaking of bread is more than just a symbol and more than a remembrance of Jesus’ death. Two people are walking down the road toward the city of Emmaus. They’re discussing Jesus’ death. The risen Christ appears beside them to show them what the scriptures teach. They do not recognize him. At their invitation, he continues with them on the journey to Emmaus. When they arrive and sit down to eat on that Easter evening, Luke says of Jesus, “He was made known to them in the breaking of bread.” As Jesus broke the bread, their eyes were opened and the presence of the risen Christ was made known among them.
I find it interesting that they recognized him only when he was at Table with them. They did not recognize him when he interpreted the scriptures for them. Words were not enough for them that day, even when one so great as Jesus was doing the preaching.4
We often need something more kinesthetic to make the presence of Christ known among us. It can happen when we break bread together in worship. Our understanding of this meal is incomplete if we only remember the Upper Room on the night Jesus was betrayed and forget the Easter dinner at Emmaus when Jesus was made known in the breaking of bread.
Throughout our history the church has connected this meal not only to the risen Christ eating at Emmaus but to every meal Jesus ate, meals where all were welcome.
Whether or not we believe that the bread and wine become the actual body and blood of Jesus, it is true that Christ is present at the table.
“If in our perspective at the Table we would make the shift from ‘funeral for Jesus’ to eating and drinking with the risen Lord,”5 we could move from a spirit of death to a celebration of life.
Participation in this meal is to become an encounter with the presence of Christ. And we participate in this meal together as members of the Body of Christ. At the table we meet with God and we meet with one another. And that meeting is holy. A holy communion.
A holy communion that is but a foretaste of the Heavenly Banquet. Every time we gather around the table we engage in a participatory anticipation of the heavenly banquet where all shall be fed. No one will be hungry. No one excluded. All God’s children will be fed from God’s table. And the celebration will never end.
And yet, how many times have we come sadly to this table, determined not to enjoy it. If we could only see with a broader vision, we would discover here a banquet full of richness and delight, a feast capable of drawing us into a Holy Communion with God and one another, an encounter the Apostles’ Creed calls “the communion of saints,” a gathering of all the saints throughout all the ages gathered around God’s table for a holy communion like no other.
The bread of heaven. The cup of salvation. Come and feast on the richness of God’s love and grace in a sacrament of holy communion.
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- Michael Welker, What Happens in Holy Communion, Eerdmans, 2000, 43.
- Ronald Byars, Christian Worship, Geneva, 2000, 69.
- Charles Bugg, Witness of a Fragile Servant, 28.
- William Willimon, With Glad and Generous Hearts, Abingdon, 1986, 141.
- Ronald Byars, The Future of Protestant Worship, Westminster John Knox, 2002, 79.