1 Corinthians 11.17-34
What was the very first meal eaten on the moon? The Lord’s Supper!
When the lunar module touched down
Buzz Aldrin asked Houston control for a few moments of silence
and invited each person listening in to think about what was happening
and to give thanks in their own individual way.
Aldrin gave thanks by taking bread and wine.
He opened some little plastic packages
and poured the wine into a chalice his home church had given him.
He noticed how in the one sixth gravity
the wine curled slowly and gracefully up the cup.
He has told how as he read a short passage of scripture
‘I sensed especially strongly my unity with our church back home
and with the church everywhere.‘
It is good to think that this astronaut, amid the technological triumph
was aware of his need of Christ and of his bond with the church.
But what about the other man just a few feet away in the space craft?
Did he share with him?.
It is sad that it took years for Buzz to get over his disappointment
that Neil Armstrong claimed the privilege
of being the first man to step on the surface.
It was good to have the Lord’s Supper on the moon
but even at holy moments like that we are still imperfect people.
Isn’t it always most difficult to relate to the person nearest you,
be it on the moon or Cork or in Corinth?
Here in Cork, the problem may be even greater
because we live in a culture which has placed a lot on the sacraments.
In the major religious tradition, the mass is celebrated at almost every service
including funerals and weddings.
The problem with such frequent communion services
is that it may lead to unreflecting, unprepared communion
without full awareness of the person next to you,
nor, most of all, of the giver of the feast
In Corinth, things had got so bad in casual, unthinking communion
that Paul had had to say
(20) ‘when you come together it is not the Lord’s Supper that you eat.’.
In those days, a real meal was combined with the Lord’s Supper.
It was called a ‘love feast’
but there was not much love in the Corinthians’ love feast.
The rich people came in early, laden with food and drink, and a great party.
The slaves and the poor came in later, hungry, tired, empty handed.
Have you ever come late to a party, and all the food has gone
and the people stand around in little groups, ignoring you
and you feel really out of it as a latecomer,
and especially if you couldn’t help being late.
Things like that happen at parties, but should they happen in the church?
Paul says this is a travesty, an abuse, a farce.
People who get greedy and drunk and behave as if in an exclusive club
cannot be said to be ‘recognising the body of the Lord’ (29)
So Paul says, harshly but rightly, that God will judge such behaviour:
he may even afflict some with illness and death
as a severe discipline to bring the church to its senses.
Now we are not to conclude that if we are ill
it is because God is judging us for an irreverent or uncaring deed or attitude.
Sometimes our suffering is a direct judgement on our ill disciplined behaviour:
the leader of our country knows full well now
that it was not a good idea to stay up to 330 in the morning
and then try to do an important interview on breakfast radio.
If you are sick and are wondering
if you have done something for which God is disciplining you
God will show you what the problem is
and you can confess the wrong you did and he will restore you.
But this is a solemn warning about what may happen
when we are irreverent at the Lord’s table
and show our indifference to God and to others.
We all know of parties which have been spoiled by a ‘party plonker’
someone who dominates things with a loud voice, often oiled by alchohol
and there’s a bad taste left for everyone else
and you can imagine how the host feels, with hospitality abused.
What Paul is saying in 1 Corinthians 11 is that
there is a wonderful welcome to us to come to Christ’s party
and a solemn warning not to despise or abuse his hospitality.
Jesus told a story in Matthew 22.1-14 which shows what happens to people
who abuse the invitation of a king to his son’s wedding banquet.
There are those who reject the invitation outright
and treat the bearers of the invitation with contempt and even worse.
Well, those people get what they deserve from the king.
Then he sends out more invitations to all sorts of people, good and bad.
You can see who is who in the story:
the first group who rejected are the Jews, rejecting Jesus;
the next group are the non Jews, which includes us,
that’s the wonder of the gospel invitation,
it’s offered to everyone, wherever you’ve come from
whatever you have done, whatever you’ve been like.
But that doesn’t mean you can treat the host in any old sort of way.
At the banquet is a man not wearing a wedding garment.
The custom was that a special gown was handed out at the door
but for whatever reason, this man just turns up in his own clothes.
It’s like turning up to meet the President at her home in Phoenix Park,
in your gardening clothes, shabby and soiled.
So this man meets the bouncers. He is excluded. He has no answer to give.
He had a free invitation
but he could not be bothered to make use of the new clothes, freely available.
Is not that story saying something very serious
both to those who reject the invitation totally
and to those who want to enjoy the favour of the king
but are not prepared to change in any way?
Can you not see Jesus with wide open arms, welcoming us, --
he whose arms were stretched out on the cross for us
and some people only superficially respond to that invitation
but actually they join those who stream past the cross
and its invitation to share in the light of God’s loving presence
and both groups move into the darkness of being without God
and excluded from the heavenly feast forever.
How should we respond then?
It is the same as with any invitation:
REPLY, GET READY, MIND YOUR MANNERS, SAY THANKS
REPLY,
As it says on some invitations RSVP,
from the French Respondez, S’il Vous Plait
Reply to Jesus. Thank him for the invitation.
Tell him indeed that you feel most undeserving
and then let him remind you that he died for you
not because you were worth saving, (why then would he have to die for you?)
but he died in order to deal with your sin and make you worthy
GET READY
Then you must put the the white wedding garment that our host offers
It is so well described in the communion hymn:
‘Mine is the sin, but yours the righteousness:
mine is the guilt, but yours the cleansing blood
here is my robe, my refuge, and my peace;
your blood, your righteousness, O Lord my God!’
.
Imagine having some special clothes in the wardrobe which were a gift.
Somebody chose them carefully for you, made sure that they fitted,
a gift that cost a lot, but suppose you never wear them?
What would the giver think? And do you get the benefit?
Respond, clothe yourself in the robe of righteousness:
let your eating of the bread and drinking of the cup at the table
be an expression of that repentant faith, that personal commitment to Jesus.
Say to him,
‘Lord I thank you for the invitation, and I come though I am not worthy,
for I also thank you for the robe of righteousness freely held out to me
so that I may sit at your feast, and no-one will throw me out.’
MIND YOUR MANNERS
Although we are unworthy of Jesus’ death for us
Christ calls us into fellowship, to live in his presence, to have him live in us
calls us to a life that will be worthy of him
and, as Paul writes here to the Corinthian Christians
to examine ourselves, lest we eat and drink unworthily.
The free and undeserved invitation to feast with Christ
calls us to ask if there anything in my life
which contradicts me being at the Lord’s table:
things you think or do or say, or don’t do but should have done
anything that you would be ashamed to bring into the light of Christ?
Tell him about those things, don’t hang back because of them,
Say Lord, these things are wrong, forgive me.
May I know I am forgiven
and may I also know that your spirit is in me
to help me to live in a different way.
Make sure this examination you do is of yourself and not of anyone else.
It’s so easy, isn’t it to look around and think:
‘What’s he doing here?’ ‘Do those people really believe?’
‘How could God invite her?‘
but that is not what we are asked to do.
We are asked to examine ourselves, not other people.
Have I responded? Am I wearing the clothes provided for me?
And in regard to the other people round about,
not what have they done, not even what have they done to me
but am I right in regard to them?
Do I offer them forgiveness,
even if they won’t ask for forgiveness
or even feel they don’t need to be forgiven?
If we can’t help feeling there is something wrong in their lives
the first question we should then ask is how can I help them?
Will I at least pray for them, and pray humbly, aware that I’m just as sinful?
Could I offer help in some way? Can I encourage? Show sympathy?
Doesn’t John write in his first letter
that if we are serious about loving God whom we have not seen
then we are to be serious about loving our brother whom we have seen?
For if we don’t love the people near us, whom we do see
can we really say we love God whom we don’t see?
To be indifferent to other people, not to care for them,
is as bad as irreverence for God;
the two aspects always go together, a restored relationship
with God in Christ and with each other in Christ.
Finally, the last thing we should do when we leave a party:
SAY THANKS
The Lord’s Supper is of course
permeated with thanksgiving through and through,
which is why some churches call it ‘eucharist’
from the Greek word for thanksgiving.
As Jewish people at the Passover thank God for gifts of bread and wine
and for the whole story of their deliverance from slavery
and as Jesus did the same at the last supper
so in our communion service we should not only give thanks
for the wonderful giving up of Christ to save us
but also afterwards we should go on being thankful:
thankful that it was good to draw near to God
and have this special communion with him
thankful for spiritual nourishment
thankful for fellowship with each other
thankful for the privilege of being invited at all.
Lord,
remind us of this high privilege of touching holy things in the Lord’s Supper.
Forgive us for when we handled carelessly.
May the ears which have heard your word of forgiveness and reconciliation
be deaf to dispute, gossip, back biting.
May the tongues which have sung your praise
be free from deceit and accusation.
May the eyes which see the tokens of your love
take in only whatever is pure and good and lovely
and may the bodies which you nourish in every way
be refreshed with the fulness of your life
that lasts for ever and ever and gets better and better.