December 20, 2006

The Shaping of Things to Come: Innovation and Mission for the 21st Century Church~ by Michael Frost and Alan Hirsch

Shapingofthingstocome

~Summary~

In The Shaping of Things to Come, Michael Frost and Alan Hirsh contend that ”the planting of new, culturally diverse, missional communities is the best way forward for the church that views itself in a missional context.”[1]  They believe that the western model of church around the world has lost it’s identity in Christendom,[2] but may “rediscover its true nature and fulfill its purpose” as it focuses on its mission. [3] 

Through various examples of contextualized communities of faith, Frost and Hirsh present an incarnational, messianic,[4] and apostolic framework for the 21st century.[5]  The church[6] is not to be attractionally based,[7] but is, rather, “out-going” in developing real connecting-relationships intentionally in the surrounding community.[8]  To accomplish this, a church must contextualize its message,[9] embrace wonder,[10] focus on Jesus,[11] and recapture its Hebraic foundation.[12]  Spirituality in the generations to come will be proactive rather than passive,[13] more organic than institutional,[14] and involve a new kind of leadership based on Ephesians 4:1-16.[15]  In this way, the church of the future will focus on its charismatic missional function rather than its organized office.[16]

~Analysis~

Michael Frost and Alan Hirsh have written a frustrating yet brilliant masterpiece about the current condition of the established Western church and the potential innovations and mission for the next generations of believers.  Frost and Hirsh admit to being almost unbearably radical, but are so in the true sense of the word (“root”).[17]  While they occasionally overstate an argument in order to provoke their point,[18] they are more often inspirationally, biblically and constructively accurate.[19]

Frost and Hirsh do not necessarily succeed in convincing the reader that “new” communities must be formed.  But they do better than that.  They succeed in re-orienting the status of the church towards a missional rather than attractional mindset.[20]  The Shaping of Things to Come encourages every believer to radically embrace the mission of the church and allow God to form and reform communities of faith to engage the surrounding context.  This book is thorough, inspirational, and essential as a resource for the future shaping of the church in the emerging landscape.

~Personal Impact Statement~

While I found this entire book to be engaging and convicting, the most practical application for me involved the authors’ challenge that we have lost the “art of church.”[21]  To have allowed technique to triumph over substance is truly a detriment to the pursuit of mission, a temptation all too prevalent in my local church.  In our program-driven environment, we have forgotten the passion and purpose in the medium.  It is the task of leadership, the authors contend, to enable the church to imagine again.  To dream what God would want us to do, to be.  The charge, then, is to act differently as a local church.  To re-examine the medium of the church in order to determine that the message is being most appropriately proclaimed.[22]  Do we truly reflect the Artist?  Do we allow people to see Jesus clearly; inspirationally; charismatically?

Embedded in such a reflection is the question asked early in the book: “What has God called us to be and do in our current cultural context?”[23]  Such a foundational evaluation of our mission could transform the passion, surrender and effort of our local church in our surrounding community.  Discovering the answer to this question could define and release us as incarnational missionaries.

I must revisit this book again and again this year.  The principles and applications presented in this book are vital to my development as one of Jesus’ followers.  Were our local churches to employ the principles of this book, those outside of our church would be introduced to Gospel.  It’s as simple and as essential as that.  While I didn’t agree with every argument and example, I confess that my leadership approach as a pastor is being deeply inspired and convicted by The Shaping of Things to Come.


[1] Frost, Michael, and Alan Hirsh. The Shaping of Things to Come: Innovation and

Mission

for the 21 Century Church. 

Peabody

,

MA

: Hendrickson Publishers, 2003, p. x. 

[2] Ibid., p. 6.

[3] Ibid., p. x.

[4] Ibid., pp. 111ff.

[5] Ibid., p. 30.

[6] Ibid., p.77.  “God’s people gathered.”

[7] Ibid., p 42.

[8] Ibid., pp. 44, 57, 73.  “We believe the missional-incarnational church will spend more time on building friendships than it will on developing religious programs” (p. 44).

[9] Ibid., pp. 84ff.

[10] Ibid., p. 102.

[11] Ibid., p. 105.

[12] Ibid., p. 127.

[13] Ibid., p. 144.

[14] Ibid., pp. 153, 210ff.

[15] Ibid., p. 166. The authors see a “ministry matrix” (or “leadership matrix”) at the core of the missional church: APEPT (Apostle, Prophet, Evangelist, Pastor, and Teacher).

[16] Ibid., p. 168.  “Charismatic” implies origination, gifting and definition by the Holy Spirit.

[17] Ibid., p. ix.

[18] For instance, on page 15 they make a blanket statement about the Western church: “It simply has not worked.”  Countless people who found Christ and grew in relationship with him would disagree with such a dismissive comment.  Another is a quote (also used for effect by Niel Cole in

Organic

Church

) by Bono stating that Jesus would always be hanging out with lepers” (pp. 26-27).  That’s a nice sentiment, but not quite accurate.  Jesus did hang out with lepers.  But he also hung out with tax-collectors, Zealots, fisherman, wealthy rulers, etc.

[19] Ibid. p. 18, and also e.g. p. 87.

[20] Ibid., p. xi, 18.

[21] Ibid., pp. 182ff.

[22] Ibid., p. 36, 149ff.

[23] Ibid., p. 7.

Revolution ~ by George Barna

Revhlarge ~Summary~ In Revolution, George Barna sets out “to inform people of the radical changes that are reshaping the Church in America… to help Revolutionaries gain a better understanding of themselves… [and] to encourage people who are struggling with their place in the Kingdom of God to consider this spiritual awakening as a viable alternative to what they have pursued and experienced thus far.” Based on his surveys, Barna believes that there is a “radical and pervasive change” happening within the Church and that all believers should be encouraged to embrace its mission.

Barna defines “Revolutionaries” by a set of passions and perspectives that reflect the revolutionary character of Jesus but that traditional churches are failing to fulfill. Two-thirds of Christians in the next twenty years will not be involved in a local church, but will opt instead for alternative faith-based communities and media/arts driven settings in an attempt to discover a “new way” of pursuing relevancy and relationships. Barna anticipates that established churches will either embrace the Revolution or have difficulty adjusting to the changes, but that the Church, and those who pursue it, will surely benefit.

~Analysis~ Based on his reputation as a leading poll researcher, Barna’s conclusions about the current state of the local church in America and the growing movement of “Revolutionaries” are persuasive. Had Barna included more of his raw data, his arguments would be even more compelling. As it stands, he succeeds in informing his readers about the radical changes among established churches, encouraging passionate and biblically-minded “revolutionaries”, and challenging all believers to consider embracing a “revolutionary” mission.

This short book is adequate for introducing Christians in America (and even Canada) to the issues facing the Church in this changing society. While his definition of the “local church” is perhaps too narrowly defined, he expands the idea of being the Church appropriately. Barna’s Revolution is a personal challenge to each believer. This book is an excellent source of encouragement for those who desire spiritual transformation that enables the Church to engage the culture with Jesus Christ.

~Personal Impact Statement~ I am one of the revolutionaries that is encouraged by Barna’s book. I resonate with Barna’s discovery of dissatisfaction within established churches, of the need for relevancy, and of the desire for a “mechanism” that provides a “way for advancing my faith, without compromising Scripture or any of the passions of a true believer.” But I am also, honestly, scared. My first thoughts while reading the introduction were “Yes!” and “Yikes!”

My initial fear is one of pragmatism. What will these changes mean to my employment as a pastor? Could these radical transitions actually impair the effectiveness of the Church’s witness in America? But a revolutionary pastor does not dictate revolt against the local church. Rather, a church that exhibits the characteristics of Barna’s Revolution is one that will thrive in pursuing Christ’s mission. A pastor could be a key ingredient to the development of countless revolutionary believers.

Especially helpful in this regard was Barna’s final sections of Revolution. He suggests a “revolutionary” affirmation statement that reflects the theological and practical convictions of radical believers but that also affirm the passion and orthodoxy of biblical Christianity. It’s exciting to think of millions of Christians agreeing to live according to such unfiltered, faith-based truths. It is up to those, then, who desire to see God’s mission lived-out in the local church to seek ways to embrace the Revolution. Questions need to be asked about “what it means to belong to a church” and how to “create more Revolutionaries” within and with-out the local church. Discovering the answers to these issues could enable a local church to radically pursue its mission.

Finally, as a pastor, Barna challenges me to lead by embracing the Revolution. I must shape an environment where revolutionary thinking can be fostered and freed. To do so, I have committed to re-reading this book with some of our church leaders as well as researching several of the resources Barna suggests at the end of his book. I will also begin praying more, examining more, and seeking more to follow God’s design for me as one of his revolutionary followers.

The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life ~ by Henri Nouwen

Three_movements_of_the_spiritual_life_1 Analysis of Nouwen’s paradigm for the spiritual life

In Reaching Out, Henri Nouwen offers a paradigm by which we are released to live “in the Spirit of Jesus Christ.”[1]  Nouwen suggests that we need to reach out beyond the tension caused by our lonely, hostile, illusive state.”[2]  As our lives vacillate between poles of stressful and fruitful existence, our souls are tempted by apathy and yearning for true spirituality.  Therefore we must, Nouwen urges, move from the pole of personal loneliness to an embrace of solitude, move from the pole of hostility to an exercise of unselfish hospitality, and most crucially move from a pole of illusion to an intimacy with God through prayer.  Wrestling with these polarities provides opportunity to construct a practical paradigm for the spiritual life that encompasses the whole of human experience.  Nouwen’s threefold paradigm for the spiritual life develops a practical approach to these polarities and, as a result, provides a practical framework for a discipline of discipleship. 

Reaching Out to Out Innermost Self: 

The First Movement: From Loneliness to Solitude

Nouwen’s humble approach to spirituality is born out of the recognition that each person, encounters a struggle to cope appropriately with unpleasant circumstances of life.  Nouwen begins with the universal life experience of loneliness.  Even in our busy, populated world, the feeling of relational impoverishment antagonizes our souls.  Despite our desperate attempts, we are unable “to put to rest our deepest cravings for unity and wholeness”.[3]  No possession, competition, individual, nor community can offer a sustained fulfillment of our despondent hearts.  We must recognize our continual, and essential, condition of aloneness.  By courageously attending to the reality of our individual isolation, we can begin to discover a hidden beauty.  In other words, instead of avoiding or denying our loneliness, Nouwen suggests, we must transform it into a “fruitful solitude”.  Using loneliness as a platform, we reach out, not to others for fulfillment, but towards a recognition and concern for our inner-self.[4]  Our wounded and craving hearts yearn for wholeness.  Perhaps we can begin to find that sense of wholeness by embracing solitude rather than wallowing in loneliness.  According to Nouwen, this conversion path is the beginning of the spiritual life. [5]   In order to embark, we must attend to the struggles within our soul.

Spiritual solitude is “an inner quality or attitude that does not depend on physical isolation.”[6]  By reaching out to our inner self, we sensitize ourselves towards spiritual discernment.  Aloneness for most people tends to produce spiritual distraction and frustration.  Contrastingly, an attentive heart of solitude produces an openness and awareness of others, especially of God.  Wrestling with the tensions of loneliness, we can move from egocentricity to altruism where intimate relationship outside of oneself is possible.[7]  In other words, solitude expands our spiritual reach.  We are more able to embrace the aspects of a spiritual life as we move from falsehood and temptations to a life refreshingly attached to God and others.[8]  Solitude enables our souls to more responsibly and wisely wrestle with circumstances outside of ourselves.  The shift from loneliness to solitude transforms our world view, making us alert and aware of the world around us.[9]  Our hearts become contrite, interruptions initiate opportunities, selfishness concedes to compassion, and suffering opens the prospect of healing.[10]

Reaching Out to Our Fellow Human Beings:

The Second Movement: From Hostility to Hospitality

As with the movement from loneliness to solitude, Nouwen contends that it is also imperative to convert hostility into hospitality.  This second movement of his paradigm for spiritual life urges people to transform fear and repulsion of strangers into a welcoming and reconciling attitude of the heart.[11]  Our goal, then, is to “convert the hostis into a hospes, the enemy into a guest.”[12]  Too often, stemming from fear or anger or despair, we allow inwardness to champion itself in our lives.  The atrocious, daily events of our world should, however, actually “force us to break out of our individual pious shells and stretch out our arms” to God and our fellow human beings.[13]   

Biblically, hospitality is described or modeled as more than an invitation to receive a stranger into a physical location.  Hospitality is a “fundamental attitude” toward others.  This challenging second movement of the spiritual life requires a bold rejection of ambivalence or distrust towards strangers.  This movement requires the commitment to produce an environment whereby a stranger may find intimacy and healing to their loneliness.  Hospitality offers the prospect for the spiritual transformation of the stranger.[14]  In other words, a removal of hostility enables the the befriending of strangers.[15]  Whether the relationship with a stranger is as intimate as a parent and child, or as stoic as a professional to a client, the true spiritual life considers others to be guests who are worthy of our attention and care. 

The church is uniquely positioned in our world to provide a setting that embraces strangers as friends.  Believers within the intimate fellowship of a church community have the privileged opportunity to invite outsiders in.  Believers are especially enabled to reach out to others, offering wholeness through healing, receptivity and accountability.[16]  As we effectively move from loneliness to solitude, we are more efficiently enabled to reach out to one another in service.  People trapped in loneliness are unable to fully receive and care for other lonely people.  But, the embrace of the first movement of the spiritual life enables us to more easily embrace the second.  Consequently, the embrace of the second movement of the spiritual life enables others to begin to embrace the first.  As we reach out away from ourselves, releasing our hold on our own souls, we enrich others, and paradoxically, ourselves.[17]  A poor-in-spirit heart, a meek and humble attitude of the soul, rewards a person with spiritual wealth.[18]

Reaching Out to Our God:

The Third Movement: From Illusion to Prayer

The most important and difficult aspect to spiritual life, according to Nouwen, is the third movement of his paradigm.  The conversion from illusion to prayer provides the crucial, practical daily undergirding of the spiritual life.[19]  We each live in an illusive reality, Nouwen argues, with limitations and a finite existence.  We must reach out beyond this fragile and terminal reality “toward our loving God in who all life is anchored.”  The first two movements of the spiritual life must be “embedded in [the] broader, deeper, and higher reality from which they receive their vitality.”[20]  This is not to say that the third movement is chronologically pursuant, nor an evolutionary conclusion of the first two.  The movement from illusion to prayer is simply the most important aspect to the development of the spiritual life.  After all, this is the movement whereby we reach out to our God, who is “eternally real and from whom all reality comes forth.”[21] 

The manner in which we reach out to God is through prayer.  Prayer enables us to admit our mortal condition alongside our immortal longings.  We live under an illusive expectation that this world should operate under an immortal order.  As a result, when mortality blindsides us, we experience frustration, act out violence, express disappointed yearnings, and lapse into wishful thinking.[22]  Prayer becomes the means by which we move from disenchantment into recognition and truth of immortality through a relationship with our God.  Prayer provides the “loving intimacy” with God essential to a whole spiritual life.[23]  Reaching out to our God through prayer permits us to encounter a truer reality than what we could tangibly conceive. 

Prayer is the “first obligation” and the “highest calling” of any person.[24]  It is both a responsibility before God and a gift received from God.  Nouwen’s paradigm depends upon this paradox.  Prayer is the reaching out to our God who is beyond our reach.  Prayer is also the reception of God’s presence manifested through intimate connection.  Prayer is thus a mystery, something unattainable and incomprehensible and yet fully sensible.  As we reach out to God, presenting our concerns and adoration, his peace which transcends all understanding guards our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord.[25]  Prayer, then, becomes the most “basic receptive attitude” of our lives.[26]  In everything, by prayer, we petition and present our inner-most self to God.  Through a Biblical foundation, through attending silence, and through the mentoring community of those experienced in prayer,[27] we can begin to develop a spiritually authentic heart, free from the limitations of mortal fantasy.

Conclusion:

One of the most beautiful aspects of Nouwen’s paradigm is that he begins with the brokenness of loneliness and ends with the fulfillment of relationship with God.  Ultimately in the spiritual life we move from a status of dire isolation and anxious hostility to one of confident hospitality and intimate fellowship.  As we spiritually develop within this paradigm, we are prompted by the Holy Spirit to invite others to experience the intimacy of God too. In this way, Nouwen’s paradigm for spiritual life effectively establishes practical parameters for the vision and theological texture of paradigmatic spirituality and discipleship within church ministry. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY ~ Nouwen, Henri J.M. Reaching Out: The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life (New York: Image Book, 1975).


[1] Nouwen, Henri J.M. Reaching Out: The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life (New York: Image Book, 1975), Foreward, first paragraph.

[2] Introduction, 2nd page. One interesting note: Nouwen begins his introduction with the declaration that spirituality cannot be measured or systematized into different levels, stages or phases.  Nouwen continues shortly thereafter, however, to use words like “deepen” and “sharpen”.  Could it be that we must retain the concept of “measurement” in order to gauge our “progress” in the spiritual life?  Would Nouwen consider that people could “digress” in their spiritual life?  An affirmative answer would imply some form of measurement.

[3] Nouwen, 30.

[4] Nouwen, 34-35.

[5] Nouwen, 39.

[6] Nouwen, 37.

[7] Nouwen, 43.

[8] Nouwen, 48.

[9] Nouwen, 50.

[10] Nouwen, 52-62.

[11] Nouwen, 65.

[12] Nouwen, 66.  Jesus commands us to “love your neighbor as thyself” and to “love your enemy”; Matthew 5:43-45.

[13] Nouwen, 55.

[14] Nouwen, 71.

[15] Nouwen, 79.

[16] Nouwen, 93-100.

[17] Nouwen, 103.

[18] Matthew 5:2-3.

[19] Nouwen, 109.

[20] Nouwen, 113.

[21] Nouwen, 114.

[22] Nouwen, 116-121.

[23] Nouwen, 122.

[24] Nouwen, 123.

[25] Philippians 4:6-7.

[26] Nouwen, 133.

[27] Nowen, 134-138.  I do not read a New Age worldview in Nouwen’s suggestion of a “spirit-guide”.  His definition of a guide is another human being who will help another connect with God through prayer, based on Scripture.  The spirit guide could be a Christian from history who left guidelines or models for prayer.  Or it could be an experienced, living, believer.

December 19, 2006

Communion Shapes Character by Eleanor Kreider

Commshap_1 Eleanor Kreider’s book, Communion Shapes Character,[1] challenges church ministry leaders to examine their observance of Communion against scriptural and historical precedents.   Her contention is that much of what is practiced as the “Lord’s Supper” in our churches today is actually a blending of biblical components and ecclesial traditions which has led us to an unfortunate omission of the nurturing intention of Communion.  What’s needed, she suggests, is a renewed embrace of the Lord’s Supper not as ritual, but as an integral aspect of corporate character-shaping.  Kreider’s thesis is “that full-orbed Christian worship, Sunday upon Sunday, uniting the services of the Word and the Lord’s Supper, has a life-giving, maturing effect on our churches, not least on their visible character.”[2]  Kreider aims to promote “true-worship” through the practice of Communion that “can be set free to transform and shape our everyday lives.”[3]  As a result, churches will discover a re-oriented and deeper passion for God, she writes, “when the Lord’s Supper, graced by God’s presence and Word, oriented to the living Lord and empowered by the Spirit, is fully restored to the place it had in the early centuries- as the central communal Christian act of worship.”[4]

Kreider defines Communion as “the celebration of a joyful community gathered around a table, remembering and meeting its Lord, who is both host and guest.”[5]  Historically, however, churches have struggled to render this definition into reality.  In fact, Kreider suggests, the current ecclesial practices today seem to carry “little resemblance to the meal that Christ celebrated with his disciples.[6] 

Kreider’s observance saddens my heart.  Yet I must concur.  Over this last year, I have grown increasingly frustrated over the practice of Communion in my own ecclesiastic tradition.  At the risk of sounding irreverent, the churches where I fellowship have tended to reduce the Lord’s Supper into an overly-individualistic, legalistically heavy emphasis on guilt and spiritual pedigree.  The dull march of the ushers, coupled with the monotony of the once-a-month observance has felt more like a Remembrance Day flag-folding and gun-salute dirge than a thanksgiving event.  As a result, the “celebration” of the Lord’s Supper has become awkward for me.  At times I have even excused myself from the service so that I wouldn’t have to “partake.”[7]

Communion has felt more like a somber memorial service emphasizing the mortal consequence of our sin than an opportunity to share in the suffering and joy of my Savior.  The procession of the celebration leans upon rote formality which leaves little freedom for spontaneity or emotional expression.  Believers are encouraged to silently internalize the moment, as one would do during a silent wake for a friend.  Stale pre-cut squares of bread are dispensed on silver platters through straightened rows of sitting people.  This is followed by tiny shot-style, plastic cups of grape juice also passed through rows by the ushers.[8]  No words are spoken accept for the patterned system of introduction and prayers only to be offered by elected church Elders.   While not theologically incorrect technically, this form of remembrance is perhaps not theologically complete.  Missing in this practice seems to be the shalom of Christ, the breathing of his Spirit upon his followers, and the historical reality of his resurrection. 

Also neglected, or perhaps deemphasized, is the participation of the community in the experience of the Lord’s presence.  To partake of Communion, for many from my tradition, means only to have a portion of food and drink.  However, the fuller definition of ‘partake’ is to “take part in or experience something along with others.” Likewise, the fuller definition of ‘communion’ is “an act or instance of sharing… intimate fellowship or rapport.” [9] As a result, I’ve been left feeling like the disciples on Friday night and Saturday of the Passover weekend.  The Lord’s Supper, as practiced in my tradition, has for me imprisoned the presence of Christ to the tomb, his body embalmed and still wrapped in strips of linen cloth.   

Certainly there is a different intention and practice of the Lord's Supper than is accustomed in my church tradition!  After all, 'supper' would imply a meal, 'communion' would imply community, and ‘eucharist' would imply thanksgiving.[10]  Have we over-memorialized this beautiful practice of remembrance?  On the first Sunday of every month, my soul has been asking the same question as Kreider:  “Is our ‘Lord’s Table’ a contradiction or at least a misnomer?”[11] 

The most influential and most encouraging of Kreider’s contributions to me personally was her study of the historical practice of Communion.  In my estimation, gleaned from Kreider’s historical survey, there has been a pattern in regards to the celebration of the Lord’s Table of inauguration, celebration, customization, degeneration, legalization, rationalization and eventually re-formation. 

Inauguration and Celebration:  Kreider suggests that after the meal was instituted by Christ and then enlivened by his resurrection,[12] the “memorial meals” celebrated by the disciples naturally became occasions of “thankful jubilation” as they celebrated their risen Lord.[13]  Additionally, the Jewish roots of blessing and thanksgiving that were once integral to the Passover meal would have become so rich in significance when interpreted in light of the new messianic age.

Customization: As Christianity flourished and spread across the Roman Empire, customs and traditions of fellowship began to reshape the common Jewish Communion experience.[14]  Other geographic adaptations and personal preferences served to create further variations of the Lord’s Table.  Kreider writes that historically, “as the Christian movement spread out across the empire, changes were inevitable… Christian worship and fellowship no longer centered on an actual meal table.  The movement became less Jewish.”[15]

Degeneration and Legalization:  Kreider does well not to glamorize the practice of Communion in the early centuries.  She summarizes, for instance, how the innocence of the initial practice of Communion evolved into abusive ritual, such as was admonished by Paul and Augustine. [16]  As a result, the freedom and informality of worship that was associated with the meals ultimately gave way to more rigidity in practice as leaders sought to protect the sanctity of the remembrance of Christ’s death. While some believers still shared an agape meal more intimately and casually in their homes, another distinct form of Communion, known as the Eucharist, was instituted by church leaders.[17] 

The Eucharist was the organized answer to the excessive lawlessness which became customary of the agape meals.  In the Eucharist, a joyous tone of thanksgiving was maintained,[18] but the meal was substituted for a more formalized ceremony focusing on the cup-and-bread in a service for the larger church community.  The instituted corporate celebration, while capturing some of the solemnity of the Lord’s Passion and the semblance of the elements, served to mystify and depersonalize the experience.   Within 200 years after the first Communion with Christ, the growth of the church and the institution of the Eucharist created a sense of mystery in the celebration itself.  A liturgy was developed to orchestrate the procedure of Communion for the congregants.  “The implicit message,” Kreider writes, “was that the mysteries, known and handled by the clergy, were awesome, fearful things.”[19]  Centuries of this sacred, but distant process eventually made the practice of Communion the measure of one’s salvation.  The emphasis shifted from the participation of the community in a celebration of thanksgiving to the prominence of the soulful status and sinfulness of the individual “communicant.”[20] Kreider identifies the consequential problems as a growing lack of true participation, a growing dominance of the clergy, a sobering emphasis on death and sacrifice, and an increased tone of “dourness.”[21] 

Rationalization and towards Reformation:  The move towards recapturing the essence of the Lord’s Table has been slow.  Reformation attempts have been catalyzed throughout the centuries, but the institutionalism of the practice of Communion has left a gapping neglect of the full passion and theological significance inaugurated by Jesus. Luther, Calvin, Zwingli and others sought to renew the spiritual experience of the Eucharist by making the language more common and applying new songs of praise to the celebration, but the tone remained penitential and unintentionally ritualistic.[22]  Enlightenment church leaders then attempted to rationalize and moralize the experience to accommodate the prevailing worldview’s fear of spiritualism.  Now, nearly two-thousand years after Christ first invited his followers to “do this in remembrance of me,” there is again a renewed interest to rediscover the Scriptural and Jewish roots of the meal, as well as defining the positive characteristics and contributions of centuries of ecclesial practice while somehow adapting it appropriately for the postmodern context.[23]

Helpful in this regard will be the embrace of the spectrum of themes inherent in the definition of the symbols of the Lord’s Table.  The bread and cup, the spoken words and prayers of Christ, the foot washing, the Passover, the covenant language, the fellowship- these all point to themes of forgiveness and restoration, healing, Christ’s sacrifice, our emulation, his offering, obedience, discipline, gratitude, thanksgiving, praise, community, discipleship and Christ’s resurrection and exaltation.  Kreider is right to suggest that searching for and embracing the rich depth and full range of meaning embedded in the practice of Communion will “remind us “that we are a chosen people, a people with a character and a mission.  We are to be a distinctive people, made holy in the likeness of God’s holiness.”[24]  The themes of Communion, when infused within us, will enable us to live according to God’s character and for his purpose.[25]   And to the degree that such an infusion is implemented will determine whether the Lord’s Table serve as it should in our churches.  Kreider suggests simply yet profoundly that “how we celebrate communion makes a difference.”[26] Ultimately, Communion shapes the character of each believer by sharing the remembrance of the story of Good News through Jesus Christ.[27] 

Kreider’s book has encouraged me to explore how the practice of Communion will shape the culture and mission of this new service and the people who will participate.  I have many unanswered ponderings, but I find encouragement in the anticipation of discovering the way forward alongside dozens of other vibrant believers who seek to know Jesus Christ and make him known.  I am intrigued by the value and arguments of Kreider’s “Open Table” and “Many Table” discussions.[28] 

_____


[1] Kreider, Eleanor.  Communion Shapes Character (Waterloo, Ont.: Herald Press, 1997).

[2] Ibid., 14.

[3] Ibid., 15.

[4] Ibid., 15.  Regarding Christ’s presence at Communion, I concur with Kreider’s sentiment that the debate about when and how Christ is present is somewhat distracting.  Generally, her principle is correct: “If we can bear to experience and accept a reality which we can’t fully explain, and which we don’t need to speculate about, then we can join with our early Christian brothers and sisters in rejoicing in Christ’s presence at his table.” 114.   

[5] Ibid., 19.

[6] Ibid., 20.

[7] After one such moment, someone suggested that perhaps I shouldn’t be on pastoral staff at the church any longer.  I have lingered on this comment for months, sometimes agreeing wholeheartedly, other times denouncing our practice’s lost enthusiasm for the salvation victory Jesus demonstrated through the Passover meal.

[8] Regarding the elements of bread and cup, Kreider says that “food has become minimal and its meaning spiritualized.  Eyes are either spiritually turned inward or riveted on the stylized gestures of the one presiding… Our communion practice needs renewal.” Ibid., 26.

[10] Kreider, 164, 168.

[11] Ibid., 26.  Krieder also writes: “For many of us, the presence of Christ at communion is too often a matter of dogma or of conflicting opinions.  We may hesitate simply to anticipate and to delight in communion without having to explain it in rational detail.  But if we follow our earliest Christian brothers and sisters, we will embrace the unabashed joy and cleansing release of Jesus’ encounter with us at his table.  Jesus’ words “Do this” are not so much a command as invitation to his friendship and to vulnerable fellowship at his table.  As we come to his table again and again, we learn to bring more of ourselves, to receive more of him, to experience the deeply joyful solidarity with others at the Lord’s Table with us.” Ibid., 26.

[12] See Luke 24:30-35 where Jesus shares Communion with two disciples in Emmaus after his resurrection.

[13] Kreider, 32.

[14] Ibid., 33, 35.

[15] Ibid., 42.

[16] Kreider, mentions one of Augustine’s more frustrated quotes about how the meals had “degenerated into ‘debaucheries and lavish banquets in cemeteries.”  Ibid., 42.

[17] In some regions, as both Jude 12 and 1 Corinthians 5 refer, the common practice of Communion became a known as an Agape Feast. Ibid., 41.

[18] Ibid., 44-45. 

[19] Ibid., 111.

[20] See ibid., 56 and 73.  The downside of the shift is “not difficult to find,” says Kreider.  She asks, “What happened to the joyful, thankful character of early eucharists?  Where was the free participation of the congregation and the economic sharing of the early love feasts?  After centuries of emphasis on the need for private forgiveness, there was no legacy of learning to be communities of forgiveness.”  57-58.

[21] Ibid., 58.  From my past year’s yearning, I was able to imagine myself as a medieval believer, frightened to enter into the Eucharist mass due to the heaviness and formal sacredness of the event.

[22] Ibid., 73-74.  Regarding the influence of the ritualism of Reformation practices in Protestantism, see 154ff.

[23] Krieder cites Robert Webber’s influence in this “convergence movement” which is “rooted in Scripture, aware of Christian history, and committed to relevance.”  Ibid., 90.

[24] Ibid., 125.

[25] See also ibid., 137ff, for themes of mission that are found in the metaphors of Christ’s conquering, leading, serving and dispensing of justice.

[26] Kreider writes, “How we do it shapes our understanding of the church, its ministers, and the nature of Christ’s presence in the communion service.  We act out our communion theology.” Ibid., 151.

[27] Ibid., 199.

[28] “Open Table” discussion, ibid., 174ff.  “Many Table” discussion, ibid., 189ff.