Sermon: Luke 22

August 25, 2013 

Preaching text: Luke 22:7-23     

We celebrate Holy Communion every week.

Lots of ways to think about it:

Eucharist—thanksgiving

Lord’s Supper (Last supper)—ritual meal; Passover

Holy Communion—community, coming together

Different than other things we do—only a bite of bread and sip of wine; not a real “meal” for physical sustenance. We have an odd language around this meal: bread & wine, body & blood; covenant, promise, betrayal; confession (both of sin that needs forgiving in this meal and of faith in the One who forgives); what happens here is often misunderstood. Though all are welcome at the table, Communion is an “insider” thing, in terms of some understanding of what this is about.

One of my favorite parts of communion is the liturgy that leads up to it, especially the Great Thanksgiving and Eucharistic Prayer. When I was a kid, I remember following along in the old red hymnal, (then the green), hoping the pastor would choose the shortest options along the way; and in my Midwestern, low-church, LCA congregation, he usually did. But now I’m a church nerd.  I don’t necessarily choose the longest option, but I choose a prayer that makes sense for the time of year or the Bible theme for the week. Let’s look at some of those prayers.  (page 108 in ELW)

Even though communion is a specifically Christian practice, all these prayers start with something about the Israelites or Abraham and Sarah or the beginning of creation.  They all start in the Hebrew Scriptures, the Old Testament. And that is what I love about these prayers. These prayers remind us that Jesus did not just parachute-drop into history at a random moment to create a new religion. These prayers remind us that God—the God of our ancestors, the God of Abraham & Sarah, Isaac & Rebekah, Jacob & Leah/Rachel, the God who created the heavens and the earth—this God is doing a new thing, and the new thing looks like Jesus. These prayers remind us that there is a context for Jesus, for what God is doing; the same context in which our faith in Jesus belongs. These prayers prompt us to remember the stories that are attached to them, the stories of God’s saving work in the world ever since “in the beginning”.  [That would be why it’s important to know the stories!]

Martin Luther, in his catechism, has taught us about communion. It is not the actual body and blood of Jesus; we are not consuming human flesh.  It is also not simply bread and wine, a symbol of Jesus. It is a sacrament, an ordinary thing used for holy purpose. It is the presence of Christ “in, under, and through” the bread and wine, carried on the elements into this world, into our time and place, into our bodies and our lives, even. It is, as we end up saying, “a mystery of the faith”. We can’t really understand how it “works”, but we trust that God is working through it. 

What we can understand, I think, is the importance of remembering. Jesus himself tells us, “Do this in remembrance of me”. When we gather for communion, when we present ourselves at the altar to receive the elements, when we take and eat, take and drink, we remember what God has done in Christ Jesus. That’s why we say almost the same words every week—so we’ll remember. That’s why the prayer prompts us to the “rest of the story”—so we’ll remember. That’s why we do it every week—so we’ll remember. Re-membering is putting back together something that has been dis-membered, like God calling Ezekiel’s dry bones to come back together and be whole. And when we are caught in the hustle and bustle of life, it is easy for these sacred memories to come apart at the seams.  Communion calls us to re-member. 

So, what do you want to remember? When you come to this table, what is on your mind and heart? What do YOU think you are doing at communion? What do YOU think God is doing in or to you in communion?  Think of one thing you want to re-member by receiving this sacrament, and tell it to your neighbor. (pause)

I bet there were 40 different things re-membered here. That is why the gathering is important: all of us members of the body of Christ come together to re-member the story of God’s saving love in Jesus.

We gather, and remember.

We sing, and remember.

We pray and remember.

We eat and drink and remember.

The memories of God’s holy work in this world flow through all that we do. It’s a lot of memory, a lot of God, a lot of love, all mixed together and distilled into a sip of wine and a bite of bread. We don’t know which or whose memories will be in the mix each week.We don’t know if Peter or Thomas or Judas are at the table; but to all who are here, Jesus says Take and eat, take and drink, this is for YOU (better translated “all y’all”)—do this in remembrance of me. We commune to remember Jesus, to remember the limitless love of God for us, to remember who we are as the people of God. 

Take. Eat & drink. Remember. Amen.