Quite a number of years ago, we began observing the Lord’s Supper on a weekly basis. Quite a bit went into that discussion beforehand, but one of the striking things about our preparations for it was the warning I got from an experienced minister. He said that when we went to weekly communion, we should expect a great deal of sin to be flushed out of the system. In the Supper, God deals with us. In the Supper, God brings things to a head. And, as it turns out, he was right.
Without the Supper, a Christian worship service can come to resemble a college classroom, or a lecture series, or a civic meeting. And of course, in none of those settings is deep fellowship necessary. But we have been breaking bread together, and drinking the cup of the new covenant together now, for quite a number of years. Not only is this a means of grace for you—when you come in genuine faith—it is also a covenantal affront to those who are not walking in that genuine faith. And so, not surprisingly, sins, affronts, disputes, differences, and offenses can all come bubbling to the surface.
One of the reasons they do this is that the affront gives an excuse for departing, and when we depart we no longer have to deal with the demand that the Supper places upon us. Look around you. These are your brothers and sisters in Christ. They will eat from the same loaf. They will drink from the cup. The Lord Jesus is communing with them just as He is doing with you. This places a weighty responsibility upon you. If we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another. And the blood of Jesus Christ cleanses us from all sin.
So let the Supper bring things to head. Do not flee. Do not stay in order to suppress the work of the Spirit in your heart. Stay, and eat. Stay, and drink. Stay, and believe in Jesus.
So come, and welcome, to Jesus Christ.
Wow — this so needs to be one that goes into the book.
Not long ago this atheist guy on FB who I annoy found himself in a church taking communion. He posted about having gone along with it because he didn’t really believe in it anyway, but now he felt wrong somehow, soiled, as if something had changed and now he was feeling unworthy. About four times he said, “I just wish I hadn’t taken that communion.”
I didn’t say anything, but I’ve been chuckling, because yes, there’s power there! Something changes. This is not just ritual.
God may have a surprise in store for him. I knew an unbeliever who idly walked into a Catholic church, felt a presence he couldn’t explain, and never left!
Agreed.
And communion is just a tip of the iceberg.
Communionisation might vibrate a bit more vibratiously, and therefore be easier to feel.
But kissing a girl with whom you’re not married also will no longer be so casually possible.
Or closing a sale in which you withheld some possibly pertinent information.
Or a gazillion other otherwise innocent & holy white virgins we’ve smeared.