Body and Blood

How does one explain what Christians do with bread and wine?  How would I explain what’s going on to a non-believer, especially when she hears the language, “This is my body, broken for you,” or “This is my blood, poured out for you.”  Jesus was even more graphic in The Gospel of John, Chapter 6:51 . . . “the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” As one sceptic said to me, “It all sounds like some sort of ancient pagan ritual.”

Ancient, for sure, but hardly pagan.  Anyone with a poetic sensibility should grasp the metaphoric use of language.  While Roman Catholics might declare that the bread and wine actually become transubstantiated into the flesh and blood of Jesus, we Protestants are not quite so literal.  Nevertheless, we do agree that there is something going on in the breaking of the bread which, while not magic, is more than symbolic.

So, here’s my attempt at an explanation of a mystery that cannot be fully explained.  Christians believe that Jesus Christ is present in the breaking of the bread and the drinking of the wine (or grape juice in many churches).  We disagree on how he is present, but we agree he is among us, bestowing grace for every need. When Christians pray the Lord’s Prayer, with the familiar line, “Give us this day, our daily bread,” it is a reminder of the constancy of God’s providence, reaffirmed whenever we gather ‘round the bread at the Table of the Lord.

We are also affirming the goodness of creation.  God’s providence includes not only grace for our struggles, but the blessings of the earth – grain, the fruit of the vine, animal, vegetable, and mineral.  When Christians come to the table we are giving thanks for God’s mercies and forgiveness, as well as offering gratitude for material things that are necessary to life --- “our daily bread.”

Perhaps the language of flesh and blood seems too graphic, but it serves a purpose.  In the context of ancient cultic practices, Christianity sprang up with an alternate vision.  There are obvious parallels between the language of sacrifice from Israel’s temple practices and Christ’s crucifixion understood as a sacrifice, but there is a difference in how Christians historically described what was happening.  Many ancient mystery religions were practicing rituals which promised a spiritual escape from the fleshly, temporal, material world.  The Christian doctrine of Incarnation offered a different perspective.  When Jesus spoke of his body and blood being offered for the life of the world he was declaring the essential goodness of fleshly existence.  He was not offering an escape from, but redemption of the world.  Body and spirit are not separate entities but constitute one, whole soul. 

Too many Christians today misunderstand this, eagerly looking for Jesus to “rapture” them out of the world, forgetting that “God loved the world,” and that the “home of God is among mortals.”  And for those non-Christians out there who spend way too much effort trying their own forms of escape – drugs, alcohol, TV, shopping, etc., the doctrine of Incarnation offers an alternative view of the world.  God saw everything that God had made and saw that it was good.  When Christians gather ‘round the table we celebrate the goodness of creation, and we give thanks for the redemption of the material world, ourselves along with it.

All that talk of flesh and blood is simply Jesus’ poetic, even if graphic, way of getting our attention that God is concerned with saving the world, not just saving Christians out of the world.  While personal salvation is certainly a part of that for which we give thanks, God’s purpose is so much larger --- to redeem the whole creation.  Even some Christians need to come to terms with what we’re affirming when we break the bread and drink from the cup – flesh and blood, indeed, but so much more.

   

Unconditional

          What sets Jesus apart from the rest of humanity was his capacity to love unconditionally.  This is (along with some additional points), indeed, why we Christians say he was the Son of God.  Jesus loved in a way the rest of us only occasionally do, thus there was something fundamentally different about him --- he was Other than we are. 

He had compassion for the crowds.  He showed kindness to the prostitute.  He offered hospitality to the tax collector as well as the poor.  He showed no favoritism among those of different social strata.  He loved all equally, and fully, with no conditions, no strings attached.  Even as he was crucified he loved them all – loved us all – pronouncing no curses on his persecutors.

          One caveat here:  Jesus did reserve some choice words of judgment for folks who were self-righteously religious.  The 23^rd Chapter of Matthew’s Gospel offers us a stark picture of Jesus as one who could not condone the hypocrisy of the overly-religious Pharisees of his own day.  He was appalled at the way they made their religion not a joy but a burden on the people.  I suspect Jesus was upset because these semi-professional religious folks were implying that God’s love was conditional.  One telling quote is verse 15, “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you cross sea and land to make a single convert, and you make the new convert twice as much a child of hell as yourselves.”

          My colleague, Rich Irwin, once said to me that he keeps that verse handy as a reminder that his ministry to people is not to trip them up in have-to’s, ought-to’s, and musts, but to release them for joyful living. 

          As a pastor I must remind myself daily to love people for who they are, not for what they can do for me, or even for what they can do for the church.  That we are loved unconditionally, as Jesus loved, is at the heart of the Christian message, and to love in that way is the essence of Christian discipleship.  Everything else is just decoration.

          Obedience to certain principles of morality and ethics is helpful, of course, but I believe we find our true, authentic selves, not by following principles (no matter how high-sounding), but by responding to being loved unconditionally. 

          Theologian Douglas Adams likens it to his experience of his grandparents.  Parents expect their children to toe the line, to follow the rules, which is all well and good.  But when children fail to measure up, as happens to all of us, grandparents will take them in their arms and love them in spite of their shortcomings.  And when any of us are loved in this way it sets us free to be our best selves.  When we believe there is nothing we can do that will prevent us from being loved, then we are liberated to attempt living at its best, and fullest. 

          God loves, unconditionally, every one of us.  That is the message that Jesus incarnates.  There is nothing we can do to make God love us more than God already does, AND there is nothing we can do to make God love us any less.  Go, therefore, and live . . . and love.  That’s why God made you.  This is the way Jesus saves you.