Broken bread

Today I had lunch with a young man I have not see in years, who I got to know through my first full-time ministry in Ohio. He is now involved with a church plant in the Columbus area and we talked about the faith community he is part of and how they are seeking to be more transparent, vulnerable, and real.

This led to an honest conversation about our own struggles and challenges in life and how brokenness is often avoided in church. His faith community seeks to be about openness, honesty, and unconditional love.

Reflecting on today's conversation I was thinking about communion, the Lord's Supper, the Eucharist, or whatever your particular faith tradition calls it. Some do it weekly, others monthly, or other variations as well. But I wonder if we really miss an important part of this ritual.

Have we focused so much on the ritual that we miss the point?

I don't want to get into the theological weeds at this point, I simply want to offer a few thoughts and questions...

What if Christ calls us to the table to remember that just as his body was broken, we are broken, too?

What if Christ calls us to the table to remember that just as his blood was spilled, our blood has been spilled, too.

As much as we attribute the Lord's Supper to a remembrance of what Jesus did on the cross, what if it is a remembrance of what Jesus DID on the cross?

What if the bread and wine are not just about the suffering that Christ did on the cross, but a reminder that we too suffer? And that Christ's mission was about more than a free pass to heaven, but a pathway to bringing heaven to earth?

What if the Lord's Supper is less about a ritual to make sure we are okay with God and more of a time for community, a time for healing?

What if we changed the way we did communion? What if, rather than passing plates and drinking a shot of grape juice, we turned to our neighbor and confessed our sins and struggles? I mean the real ones. The ones we don't talk about in church.

To me, that may be the heart of the Lord's Supper. Jesus sat around a table with twelve men, one of whom was about to betray him, and shared a meal. A meal drenched in meaning for these Jewish men, but also a meal where Jesus washed feet and discussed so many things.

What if communion is really about community? What if we viewed it as a chance to be transparent and honest? Maybe instead of just breaking bread, we could break down walls and heal hearts in the process.