Back to the Supper

by Warren Hamp

We are coming, by the mercies of God, to the gradual ending of the COVID-19 pandemic. Much discussion is pouring out from all quarters about how our world, our country, and our church will look ‘post-pandemic.’ Many speak of a great ‘reset’ that will now happen, and sometimes the ways of the Church are included in that ‘reset’. In parts of the Canadian church, there has been some discussion of the Church becoming a ‘virtual community’ with an ‘incarnated presence.’ While I am not sure exactly what that means, it is partly the idea that online ‘church’ may be something many want to keep, and perhaps even prefer over the in-person gathering of Christ’s people.

It has indeed been a blessing that our own churches have adapted quickly to the challenges presented by public health lockdowns through the various online services that have brought the Word of the Gospel and the song of the church to the homes of our members and many other people. We give thanks to God for His mercies to us in these virtual ways.

There have been limitations, however. Specifically, pastors cannot baptize people virtually. Water is a physical element, and the Word of Christ in Holy Baptism is spoken into one particular pair of ears. Holy Absolution is meant to be spoken to real repentant sinners who confess their need for the forgiveness of Christ. We don’t drive down the streets of Edmonton, for example, yelling out our car window “I forgive you all your sins” at whomever happens to be walking by. And the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar happens at the altar—even if that altar is simple or just a dining room table; Christ’s body and blood are really present for real people. Christ grants these gifts in real space and time; His Word attached to real elements for real people.

In most places during the last year and a half, there have been at least some times when this physical Gospel was precluded due to pandemic gathering restrictions. Some have called this a ‘sacramental fast.’ We are not sure if that is the best way to put it. Fasting from food or from Facebook, for example, is meant to cause us to desire something—Someone—else, greater than both. We don’t fast from hamburgers so that we will want to eat them all the more when the fast is over. 

This is different than what we have been through in regard to the Sacraments. We did not decide to fast from them. It was a condition that came upon us. And in many places, as soon as it was possible to have even a household together to receive Christ’s gifts of Baptism and the Eucharist, that happened in due course, even while following restrictions on public gatherings. The Sacrament is not a gift from which we wish to fast. We desire it with the deep hunger worked by the Holy Spirit.

While the Church of Jesus Christ is not a building, it is people, real people, who gather around the real gifts of Jesus Christ in His Word and His Sacraments. This fellowship, we confess in the Apology to the Augsburg Confession, “has outward marks so that it can be recognized. These marks are the pure doctrine of the Gospel and the administration of the Sacraments in accordance with the Gospel of Christ” (AC VII 5).

This is how it has been from the start. At Pentecost, St. Luke tells us that those who believed—through the apostolic preaching of Christ crucified and risen from the dead to forgive their sins—“devoted themselves to the apostles teaching, and the fellowship, the breaking of the bread [Holy Communion] and the prayers [Holy Liturgy]” (Acts 2:42). We confess in the Formula of Concord that “by this means, and in no other way (i.e. through His holy Word, when people hear it preached or read it, and through the holy Sacraments when they are used according to His Word), God desires to call people to eternal salvation” (FC SD II 50).

Christ’s body and blood are really present for real people. Christ grants these gifts in real space and time; His Word attached to real elements for real people.

The communion of the saints is a communion of persons. It will be that forever, when all the saints are raised in the body and can touch one another, talk with one another, sing praise with one another in holy joy forever. It is that way now too, in this age where we walk by faith. That’s why the author of Hebrews exhorts us: “Let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near” (Hebrews 10:24-25).

 

 

How will we encourage one another, post-pandemic, to partake in the sacraments of Baptism, Holy Supper, and Holy Absolution? This is not a new concern. Martin Luther spoke to this concern long ago in his writing on the Sacrament of the Altar in his Large Catechism. First, he notes the problem: “They act as though they were such strong Christians that they have no need of it. And again: Some pretend that it is a matter of liberty and not necessary. They pretend that is enough to believe without it” (LC V 41).

Luther continues: “But there is no reason why we walk about so securely and carelessly, except that we neither think nor believe that we are in the flesh and in this wicked world or in the devil’s kingdom.”

We daily battle all three—our sinful flesh, the wicked world, and the devil himself—so we need the benefits of the Sacrament: the forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation in the most intimate way that Jesus brings Himself to us. If the pandemic time has been used to teach us at all, then we have learned that we need the Sacrament even more. It is a great joy therefore for Christ’s people to be able to return not only to the fellowship of being present in the flesh with other believers in Christ, but even more to the closest fellowship we have with Jesus Himself, when He gives His forgiving Body and cleansing Blood right into our mouths.

We come out of this time with new kinds of doubts and fears. Yet our crucified and risen Jesus is sacramentally present for us amid our doubts and fears. He provides our weak and hungry souls with His forgiveness through the gift of which we sing: “Thy body, given for me, O Saviour, Thy blood which Thou for me didst shed” (LSB 619:1). Jesus welcomes us to His table, where we hear the loving promise of His Word: “This is My body … this is My blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” (Matthew 26:26-28). We want assurance that our sins are forgiven, and here it is, placed in our hands and mouths and hearts. It is forgiveness so real we can touch and taste it. This blessed meal is for our souls “the highest good.”

The rebirth and renewal of the Church post-pandemic will be nothing less than a miraculous working of the Holy Spirit. That’s not new, however. The Church has always been the miraculous working of the Holy Spirit, who calls and gathers sinners into the communion of saints by the forgiveness of sins in Christ. He alone creates, sustains, and restores faith in Jesus Christ the Saviour where and when He wills. 

And the Holy Spirit has promised to work through the means He has chosen: His Holy Word of the Gospel of Jesus, His holy Absolution, His Holy Baptism, and His Holy Supper. Thanks be to God.

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Rev. Warren Hamp is pastor of Faith Lutheran Church in Kitchener, Ontario.

The photos included in this article are by Anna Kraemer, LCC Communications Intern 2021.

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Posted By: LCC
Posted On: August 30, 2021
Posted In: Feature Stories, Headline,