Conflict Management - 1 Corinthians 11:17-34

 

Lesson 10: The Church’s Questions—Communion

 

 The next topic Paul addresses is a familiar one to most Christians because they observe it with some regularity (annually, quarterly, monthly, weekly): communion. As we read the passage, though, it becomes immediately apparent that the circumstances for the Corinthians are not quite the same as our own. The context suggests considerably more than a thimble of juice and a crumb of bread. This discrepancy has caused many commentators not a little distress, and in their effort at keeping the church separate from the synagogue, they have rejected the obvious setting and concocted their own (Fee 1987:532). I mention it only because in the course of your spiritual pilgrimage, either you already have or you may encounter someone who holds this position. Most people, however, are simply not aware of the alternative.

 The setting that is often conjectured is a so-called “Love Feast,” a curious phrase imported from Jude, which appears nowhere else in scripture.¹¹⁹ It was probably a communal meal similar to those held in pagan temples (as evinced by the frequent need to distinguish them) but sanitized for use in the church.¹²⁰ We know nothing about the setting of the Love Feast, but we do know the setting of the Last Supper, which the synoptic gospels identify as the Passover.¹²¹

 We saw in chapter 5 that Paul anticipates the Corinthians will be celebrating Passover and has already given them certain instructions about it (v. 8). When he returns to the topic here, he identifies certain difficulties, gives Passover as the historical context for the Last Supper, makes specific reference to elements of the seder (“service”), and gives more instructions. If you have attended a Passover meal, you will be able to see why the problems Paul mentions may have arisen, and you should also be able to understand better the reason for Paul’s counsel. He calls them to task on at least four counts of improper behavior, each of which runs counter to the purpose or procedure of the Passover seder.

 

              D. Communion 11:17-34

 

1 Cor 11:17 In the following directives I have no praise for you, for your meetings do more harm than good. 18 In the first place, I hear that when you come together as a church, there are divisions among you, and to some extent I believe it. 19 No doubt there have to be differences among you to show which of you have God's approval. 20 When you come together, it is not the Lord's Supper you eat, 21 for as you eat, each of you goes ahead without waiting for anybody else. One remains hungry, another gets drunk. 22 Don't you have homes to eat and drink in? Or do you despise the church of God and humiliate those who have nothing? What shall I say to you? Shall I praise you for this? Certainly not!

 

                   1.   There are several problems with their current observance (vv. 17-

22).

a.     They exhibit division.¹²²

•       The seder commemorates corporate redemption, but they

miss what should unite them.¹²³

b.    They exhibit disorder.

•       The seder has a formal liturgy, but they follow no particular

order.¹²⁴

c.     They exhibit drunkenness.

•       The seder has four cups of wine, but they indulge in

excess.¹²⁵

d.    They exhibit disregard.

•       The seder is to include the needy, but they care only for

themselves.¹²⁶

 

 Celebrating the Passover requires some discipline. There is quite a bit of liturgy before the meal, so when it is finally time to eat, people are pretty hungry. Paul’s suggestion in vv. 21-22a (and his instruction in v. 34), that they should eat before they come, he directs at those who cannot control their appetites.¹²⁷ After condemning their impropriety, Paul turns to that aspect of the seder to which Jesus gave added significance and which they are apparently not keeping.¹²⁸

 

1 Cor 11:23 For I received from the Lord what I also passed on to you: The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread, 24 and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, "This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me." 25 In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me." 26 For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes.

 

                   2.       There are special practices for their correct observance (vv. 23-

26).¹²⁹

a.     They recognize a specific piece of matzah.

•       The afikomen (later) represents the paschal lamb.

b.    They recognize a specific pouring of wine.

•       The “cup of redemption” represents deliverance from

bondage.

 

           

Comment: About “…this is my body” (v. 24)

 When Jesus connected bread and wine with his body and blood he was not implying that a physical or even a mystical change had taken place. The very thought would be repugnant to the disciples and would violate Torah. God clearly forbids the consumption of blood.¹³⁰

Lev 3:17 This is a lasting ordinance for the generations to come, wherever you live: You must not eat…any blood.

The apostles, including Paul, placed this commandment in the first instructions for gentile converts.¹³¹

Acts 15:19 …for the Gentiles who are turning to God. 20 …we should write to them, telling them to abstain from food polluted by idols, from sexual immorality, from the meat of strangled animals and from blood. 21 For Moses has been preached in every city from the earliest times and is read in the synagogues on every Sabbath

The disciples would have considered both puzzling and pagan the interpretive fantasies that have exercised the church for so many years (e.g., transubstantiation and consubstantiation).¹³²

The identification of the bread with the body is semitic imagery in its heightened form [cf. 1 Cor 10:4 “the rock was Christ”]. As in all such identifications, he means “this signifies/represents my body.” The presence of Jesus with them as he spoke these words would have made any other meaning impossible. It lies quite beyond Jesus’ intent and the framework within which he and his disciples lived to imagine that some actual change took place, or was intended to take place, in the bread itself. Such a view could only have arisen in the church at a much later stage when Greek modes of thinking had rather thoroughly replaced semitic ones. (Fee 1987:550)

 

Illustration: Consider how bizarre a typical communion scenario appears to a Jew, if it is taken literally (Rosen 1974:27-30).

 We went to church the next morning—it was Pentecost Sunday of 1953—and I went forward and professed my faith publicly, as Ceil had done on Easter Sunday. My whole outlook on life changed drastically after that. If Jesus was really the Promised One, the Messiah—and I believed deeply now that He was—then it seemed important for me to learn all about Him as quickly as possible and model my life after His.

 The only spiritual authority I knew, outside of the Bible, was the church, so I took everything my new minister said very seriously. All he had to do was to drop a hint that the members of the congregation should do this or that, and I’d try. We went to Sunday school, church, the Baptist Training Union on Sunday afternoons, and the evening service. The pastor suggested that more people should be attending the Wednesday night prayer meetings, and I arranged my hours at the sporting-goods store so that I could comply. When they had a deacons’ meeting, he would announce that other members of the church were also welcome, and I would take him at his word and show up for that. It took me a while to find that other Christians didn’t take all these admonitions and suggestions so seriously.

           

 My first few church services revealed an entirely new world. The music, for example, was radically different from chanting in the synagogue. All the hymns had a lilt to them, and I wasn’t accustomed to Christian symbolism. They sang, “There is a fountain filled with blood drawn from Immanuel’s veins; And sinners, plunged beneath that flood, lose all their guilty stains.” The cheerful lilting melody seemed so unsuited to the graphically violent lyrics. And I didn’t know who Immanuel was, but the poor guy seemed to be making a big contribution to the blood bank. I was as accepting as I could be, but it wasn’t easy. Then I noticed there was an item in the church bulletin: NEXT SUNDAY:

COMMUNION.

 An usher in the last row had told us when we arrived the first morning that if we needed any help, we should feel free to call on him. I think he was just being polite because, as I learned later, church services involve very little conversation among the listeners. The synagogue is much noisier. Even gossip during prayers is sanctified according to the Talmud. I also had to learn not to get up and walk around because Jewish tradition permits the congregation to enter and leave at will during the three-hour synagogue services.

 So, not knowing any better, I said, “Psst!” in a rather loud tone and motioned the usher over. “What does it mean, ‘Communion’?” I asked.

          “You’re Jewish, right?” he answered. “It’s a little like a Passover feast.”

 My eyes must have lit up at that. The Passover Seder usually involved a rather painless religious observance and then a huge repast. In my grandfather’s house we traditionally started with chopped liver (and onions), hard-boiled eggs (and onions), pickled herring (and onions), and matzo-ball soup. Those were just appetizers. Next came the roast meats—poultry, kid, and lamb. And finally we had several kinds of dessert, including honey cake, sponge cake, and macaroons. Communion sounded terrific to me.

             “How much does it cost?” I asked.

 “It doesn’t cost you anything,” he replied. “You just contribute anything you want to in the church collection plate.”

 That was a great improvement over the synagogue, where we had to buy tickets for most of the big events, including the major holiday services, and also were assessed a regular yearly membership fee. The bulletin said, “Prepare your hearts for Communion next Sunday,” and so I asked, “Should I do anything to help out, maybe bring something?  “No, it’s all provided,” he said.

             “Where will it be held?”

             “Right here in the sanctuary.”

 I looked around at the old oak pews but didn’t see much space for tables. TV trays had just come into vogue, and I thought maybe they’d fix the place up with a few of those. Ceil and I ate a very small breakfast the next Sunday because of the huge meal we expected at the service. I sought out the usher during Sunday school and double-checked with him about the time and place, because I didn’t want to miss anything. I suspected that, being Gentiles, they would serve bacon and ham and shrimp and other things that weren’t kosher, but it still seemed like a nice idea, a real treat.

 

           

 Ceil and I got seated in the sanctuary, and we began to sing songs about the blood again:

Oh! Precious is the flow

That makes me white as snow; No other fount I know,

Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

—ROBERT LOWRY

 That wasn’t too appetizing, especially since I didn’t understand the real import of the words. But to top it all off, when I looked up at the front of the church, I saw on a table what looked like white shrouds, with a lump where the feet would be and another lump for the head. I thought, “Gee, they’re having a funeral today, too.” It made perfect sense to me that they’d be having a funeral that morning because their customs were so different from what I had known. But up to that point I hadn’t seen a dead body, and I had the usual terror of such things. And what did the pastor preach on? The body and blood of Christ: eating and drinking it.

 I hate to tell you the thoughts that were going through my mind. I knew they couldn’t have Christ up there under that shroud. And I knew deep down that these goyim weren’t cannibals. I decided the body was probably just being kept there, and they would have the funeral later that afternoon.

         “Psst!” I said and motioned my friend, the usher, over. “When are we going to have

Communion? I’m losing my appetite a little bit.”

             Straining to be patient, he said, “It’ll be in just a minute.”

 At the end of the service eight men dressed in dark suits went forward toward the shrouds. I didn’t know the difference between deacons and other church officials at that point, and so I decided they were the pallbearers. They gathered around what I assumed to be the funeral bier, and I expected they would carry the body out before we ate. But two of them moved to each end of the covered object and I could see they were waiting for a signal to lift the shroud. Oh, no, I thought. Suddenly the cover fell away, and there was nothing underneath except some little pots and pans.

             “Psst! What’s that?”

             “Communion.”

 Communion! I looked around and saw there were about three hundred people to feed. I was totally dumbfounded. After certain prayers were said, each person was given a crumb of matzo. Then there were some more prayers, and a blessing was offered over the wine. Finally, the deacons passed around little glass thimbles filled with what looked like wine But when I drank it, yech, it was grape juice! I couldn’t understand why they called it wine, and by now I was getting impatient.

      “Psst!” I said to my usher. “When are we going to have Communion?”          “You’ve had it,” he replied.

 I thought, boy, these goyim, they give you a crumb of matzo and a thimbleful of grape juice, and they have the nerve to call it a Passover feast. Then they criticize us Jews for being stingy!

 

           

In the Last Seder, when Jesus spoke about the bread and wine being his body and blood, he was simply using a metaphor, making a comparison between two things, as he did on many occasions.¹³³

Matt 5:13 You are the salt of the earth.

Matt 5:14 You are the light of the world.

Matt 6:22 The eye is the lamp of the body.

Matt 23:33 [b ≈ 12:34a] You snakes! You brood of vipers!

Matt 26:26 This is my body.

Matt 26:28 This is my blood.

The point of this analogy may not always be clear,¹³⁴ but that these are figures should be obvious.¹³⁵ Our task is to determine the point of comparison. How is Jesus’ body like the matzah and his blood like the wine? Here are some options:

•         There is a comparison with death in the acts of breaking and pouring.

•         The breaking of bread is like the breaking of bones (so 1 Cor 11:24 in some ancient mss).

•         The pouring of wine is like the shedding of blood, although the figure is

actually of a libation poured out (spent) at the altar (probably an allusion to Isa 53:12 “…he poured out his life unto death”).¹³⁶

•         There is a comparison with life in the elements of bread and wine.

•         Bread, being a staple, has a strong associations with life.¹³⁷

•         Wine is associated with the joy and prosperity of God’s blessing.¹³⁸      •         There is a comparison with deliverance in the elements of bread and wine.

•         During the seder, the participants eat matzah at three different times, with each piece marking a certain part of the celebration.¹³⁹

•         The piece after the meal, called the afikomen, is the very last thing participants eat (Glatzer 1969:57),¹⁴⁰ although there would still be two more cups of wine to drink. Oddly enough, and unlike other elements of the meal, Jewish tradition attaches no special symbolism to the afikomen until after the destruction of the temple, when it becomes a reminder of the paschal lamb, the means of their deliverance from death. It is probably the afikomen about which Jesus said: “This is my body” (Matt 26:26).¹⁴¹

•         During the seder, the participants drink wine at four different times, with each cup marking a certain part of the celebration (Exod 6:6-7).¹⁴²

•         The cup just after the meal is called the cup of redemption (or “blessing,” as in 10:16, because redemption = blessing; Glatzer 1969:59), perhaps because Elijah’s cup is also filled at this time (= messianic expectation?).¹⁴³ This follows the afikomen and is probably the one about which Jesus said: “This is my blood” (Matt 26:27-28; 1 Cor 11:25).

Whether Jesus chooses these elements because they already possessed some useful associations is uncertain. In any case, he takes two elements of a festival that commemorates physical deliverance from slavery and invests them with added significance, expanding the festival so that it also (not “instead’) commemorates spiritual deliverance from sin. This expansion anticipates the full and final deliverance as well; as Paul says, “you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (1 Cor 11:26).¹⁴⁴

 

 In 1 Cor 11, Paul deals specifically with this extended part of the Passover liturgy (which is the least established at this point). Paul’s emphasis is not on the identification of the bread and wine with Jesus’ body and blood (which he omits), nor even on the eating and drinking alone, but on the combination of doing and reviewing (“do this in remembrance of me,” 1 Cor 11:24-25, cf. v. 26).¹⁴⁵

 

1 Cor 11:27 Therefore, whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord. 28 A man ought to examine himself before he eats of the bread and drinks of the cup. 29 For anyone who eats and drinks without recognizing the body of the Lord eats and drinks judgment on himself. 30 That is why many among you are weak and sick, and a number of you have fallen asleep. 31 But if we judged ourselves, we would not come under judgment. 32 When we are judged by the Lord, we are being disciplined so that we will not be condemned with the world. 33 So then, my brothers, when you come together to eat, wait for each other. 34 If anyone is hungry, he should eat at home, so that when you meet together it may not result in judgment. And when I come I will give further directions.

 

                   3.             There are severe penalties against their incorrect observance (vv.

27-34).

a.     They must exercise self-judgment.

•       If they do not, they will suffer God’s judgment..

b.    They must exercise self-control.

•       If they will not, they should eat before coming.

 

Comment: About “…in an unworthy manner” (v. 27)

 Most think this phrase refers to the person doing the eating. “People are ‘unworthy’ if they have any sin in their lives, or have committed sins during the past week” (Fee 1987:560). This interpretation of v. 27 affects the application of v. 28, making self-examination personal and introspective in an attempt to become worthy to participate without falling under judgment.

           

The phrase does not refer to the inner condition of the person eating, though, but to the outward way he eats; in short, his table manners. Hence, the examination Paul advocates in v. 28 is not to determine whether the person is worthy to eat, but whether he is eating in a worthy manner. Paul is not saying: “You cannot participate until you get rid of the sin in your life”—rather—“In your participation, are you divided, disorderly, drunk, disregarding the needs of others?” Do you see the distinction?¹⁴⁶

 

 Paul charges the Corinthians with impropriety in their observance of Passover and Communion.

•         Their division is contrary to the unity that should characterize the celebration of corporate deliverance.

•         Their disorder disrupts the retelling of the God’s saving acts.

•         Their drunkenness makes a mockery of what should be a festive yet dignified commemoration.

•         Their disregard for others betrays an absence of love among those who are supposed to be known for that virtue.

Paul reviews the tradition he has received concerning Jesus’ expansion of the seder and puts them on notice that their impropriety is an offense against Jesus and is the cause of God’s judgment against them. He then commands the Corinthians to straighten up.

•         If they do not exercise self-judgment in these areas, they will continue to suffer God’s judgment.

•         If they cannot exercise self-control during the seder, they must eat at home before they come.

Paul wants them to restore the dignity and sanctity of the service, without which their meetings “do more harm than good” (v. 17).

 

Application: To what extent do Paul’s instructions apply to the church today, given its abbreviated communion service?¹⁴⁷ [Treat separately if appropriate.] Division? Disorder? Drunkenness? Disregard? Are Paul’s instructions for communion culturally bound, like his instructions on head coverings, or is our practice of communion biblically deficient? Are we missing something by truncating the service?