It is no accident, and no coincidence, that the elements of the bread and wine here will in just a few moments pass over your lips and tongue. It is also no secret that we all fail in many ways, as James tells us, and not least with our speech. The elements of the sacrament, therefore, come in direct contact, on a weekly basis, with that part of your body which gives you the most trouble. Not only does it give us the most trouble, in many cases our speech gives others the most trouble.
This is no argument for shrinking back from the Supper. But it is an argument for coming to this Supper with a demeanor of humility—a willingness and eagerness to be corrected and forgiven. And this is what the Supper represents to you. Forgiveness of sins, baked into a loaf. Forgiveness of sins, poured into a cup.
This is a covenant meal for sinners. This means that if you come to it while stubbornly clinging to your right to speak sinfully the way you do, then the contact of these elements with your sinning organs of speech brings chastisement and discipline. And it is no wonder that you struggle as you do.
But the alternative is not to become sinlessly perfect before you partake. This meal is not a reward for having been so good. It is a sacrament that declares forgiveness of sin. Are you a mess? Come, and welcome. Have you been harsh with your children? Come, and welcome. Were you harsh with them this morning? Come, and welcome. Have you been critical of your husband? Come, and welcome. Have you been harsh with your wife? Come, and welcome. Have you spoken of any brothers and sisters here with a hard and bitter edge? Come, and welcome.
But to receive this welcome, to come in such humility, means that you come submitting yourselves to the work of God in you. Come in faith—not in fatalistic despair, and not in stubborn resistance. Come in faith, for God is at work here and now, sanctifying your tongue.