Fencing Tables -- Reflections about Restrictions to Gathering at the Lord's Table
Note: This post presents a chapter in a book I'm currently working on titled Eating With Jesus. My goal here is to argue for a fully open Table, as observed by Jesus. This chapter takes note of the efforts through history to fence the table, a process that began at least as early as the 2nd Century if not before.
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It’s unclear whether the first-century followers of Jesus limited Table fellowship to initiated believers. There was some debate within the community about Jewish and Gentile Christians sharing the Table, as Paul points out in the Galatian letter. There he writes about confronting Peter who withdrew from eating with Gentiles while visiting the church in Antioch after being criticized by Jewish Christians (Gal. 2:11-13). What is being referred to in 1 Galatians isn’t the Lord’s Supper, but meals in general. But it does have implications for our gatherings at the Lord’s Table. Paul also speaks about behavior at church meals, which include sharing bread and wine, in 1 Corinthians 11. When Paul speaks in 1 Corinthians of eating unworthily, Paul has the misbehavior of some of the participants in mind. As Ernst Käsemann, reminds us, Jesus tended to gather around himself the kinds of people who might have been deemed unworthy, that is “the fallen, the weak, and the guilty.” Thus, what Paul calls unworthy is different from what we might call it. Therefore, as Käsemann points out, Paul isn’t “referring to the internal state of members of the congregation, but rather to their behavior at the love feast. Those persons do not behave adequately—that is, they behave contrary to the Lord and his cross—who, at Jesus’ table, do not wait for their fellows, who where possible, feed them with leftovers or let them go hungry, while e they themselves feel raptured to heaven and noisily announce their salvation.”[1] That is, the affluent members of the Corinthian community appear to have gotten drunk with wine and ecstasy, while the rest of the congregation went hungry (1 Cor. 11:17-34).
Although
the New Testament doesn’t specifically speak of prerequisites for coming to the
Lord’s Table, such as baptism, by the second century C.E. the fences began to
go up. We see the fencing of the Table clearly revealed in the Didache, an
early manual on the Christian life that originated in Syria, which some
scholars date to the first century C.E. The author of the Didache explicitly
restricts access to the Table to those who have been baptized. That tradition
has continued largely unimpeded to the present, though adjustments have been
made, especially among those traditions that practice infant baptism. When I
was growing up in the Episcopal Church in the 1960s and early 1970s, access to
communion required not only baptism but confirmation. Today baptism and
confirmation might not always be required, but many will restrict access to the
Table to those who profess faith in Jesus. In other words, this is essentially
a “believer’s table.”
If
we start with the Didache we can follow the fencing of the
Table through the years. The unknown author of the Didache offers
this instruction concerning the reception of eucharistic elements: “Allow no
one to eat or drink of your Eucharist, unless they have been baptized in the
name of the Lord. For concerning this, the Lord has said, ‘Do not give what is
holy to dogs.’” (Didache 9:5).[2]
While
the Didache limited partaking of the Supper to those who are
baptized, as time passed, the restrictions became even narrower as one must be
baptized not only to receive the Eucharist but to be present for it. Baptism
followed a lengthy period of catechesis. Writing in the middle of the second
century C.E., Justin Martyr describes the progression from baptism to the
Eucharist.
Writing
in his First Apology, a defense of the Christian faith, Justin
shares that after a person/persons who have been baptized have been brought to
the place where the Eucharist/Supper is to be received, “bread and a cup of
water and mixed wine are brought to the president of the brethren and he,
taking them, sends up praise and glory to the Father of the universe through
the name of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and offers thanksgiving at some
length that we have been deemed worthy to receive these things from him. When
he has finished the prayers and the thanksgiving, the whole congregation
present assents, saying, ‘Amen.’ At that point, the deacons distribute to those
in attendance the bread and cup.”[3] Justin reaffirms the practice of the
congregation of which he is a part: “This food we call Eucharist, of which no
one is allowed to partake except one who believes that the things we teach are
true, and has received the washing for forgiveness of sins and for rebirth, and
who lives as Christ handed down to us.” Why is this? It is because this
community does not hold these elements to be common food or drink. Instead,
they affirm that these elements are in fact “Jesus Christ our Saviour being
incarnate by God's word took flesh and blood for our salvation.” They
understand the elements to be sacred food and drink, such that the “food
consecrated by the word of prayer which comes from him, from which our flesh
and blood are nourished by transformation, is the flesh and blood of that
incarnate Jesus.”[4] Justin writes that this belief
system is to be found in the Apostle’s memoirs or Gospels. He also contrasts
the Christian rites with those of the followers of Mithra, who also include in
their rites bread and wine.
The
common practice of the early church was to require a period of catechesis,
usually three years, (instruction) followed by baptism before a person was
admitted to the communion service. Manuals such as The Apostolic
Tradition, which is attributed to the third-century church leader
Hippolytus, and the later Apostolic Constitutions tell us that
after the service of the Word, but before the Eucharist, catechumens and
penitents would be dismissed before the Eucharist proper began.[5] As for the period of catechesis, it
might take as long as three years.
One
reason that the church begins to restrict participation in the Eucharist is the
developing realism of Jesus’ presence in the Eucharist. These developments,
which we find present in the second century in leaders such as Irenaeus, who
used claims of Jesus’ being present in the elements as a way to demonstrate the
true humanity of Jesus to counter Gnostic claims concerning Jesus. Irenaeus
isn’t concerned with offering a fully developed eucharistic theology. Moving
forward into the third century, for the most part, the Eucharist remained part
of a larger meal. That began to change, however, as Christians began to gather
in larger rooms. Perhaps as early as the late second century, and certainly in
the third, as Christians moved from evening gatherings to Sunday morning, the
Eucharist became separated from the meal. Access to that meal, however,
remained limited to the baptized, as catechumens would be dismissed from the
service before the Eucharist was served.[6] At the same time, in most early
Christian writings on the relationship between baptism and the Eucharist, the
Eucharist functioned as the culmination of the initiation process.
While
both Eastern and Western churches affirmed the real presence, Eastern churches
did not embrace the doctrine of transubstantiation or the Aristotelianism on
which it was based. Nevertheless, both East and West limited access to the
Eucharistic elements. Aspects of Eucharistic theology, including real presence,
sacrifice, and conversion of elements, whether understood in terms of
transubstantiation or not, contributed both to decreasing frequency of people
receiving communion, as well as more limits placed on one’s ability to
commune.
Theological
concerns, especially around partaking unworthily, led, especially after the
late fourth century, to people choosing not to commune on every occasion that
they attended the Eucharist. This increased as time passed. Being taught that
if they partook unworthily (1 Cor. 11:27-32) they could end in damnation,
people chose not to receive unless they had prepared carefully beforehand by
“purifying one’s life, confessing one’s sins, and receiving absolution first.
It, therefore, seemed safer to restrict oneself most of the time to what became
known as ‘spiritual communion’ —attending the rite but not consuming the
elements.”[7] In terms of spiritual communion, by
the twelfth century, it was understood that the priest could receive the
elements on behalf of the people. As time passed, concerns about accidental
spillage of the wine (consecrated blood of Christ) led to the reception of only
the bread, which often was placed on the tongue by the priest. Theological
rationales were developed to defend these changes.
As
the church moved into the Medieval period, a new rite was added, which would be
the rite of confirmation, which was understood to be an expression of an
apostolic anointing, imposed on a confirmand by the bishop. Laying on of hands
and anointing (chrismation) had long been part of the baptismal formula,
ritualizing the gift of the Holy Spirit to the recipient. During the Middle
Ages, the act of laying on hands and anointing with oil (chrismation), usually
conferred by a diocesan bishop, was separated from baptism. As Thomas Aquinas
writes, the Sacrament of Confirmation came to be understood as a sacrament of
spiritual maturity: “just as Baptism is a spiritual regeneration unto Christian
life, so also is Confirmation a certain spiritual growth bringing man to
perfect spiritual age” [III, Q. 72, Art. 5].[8] For Aquinas and those who follow him,
Confirmation perfects Baptism that has been administered in infancy, and thus
together they serve as the foundation for receiving the Eucharist [III, Q. 65.
Art. 3].
As
we move on to the Reformation, the number of sacraments was reduced to
two—Baptism and the Eucharist—and transubstantiation was rejected as a
theological understanding of how Christ is present in the elements, but
questions of access to the Table did not change. Baptism remained a
prerequisite for access to the Table (confirmation might also be needed, even
if not understood to be a sacrament).
John
Calvin, who, in my estimation has a very attractive understanding of Christ’s
presence in the Eucharistic experience, offers a very narrow view of who could
come to the Table.
We have heard, my brethren, how our Lord observed His Supper with His disciples, from which we learn that strangers and those who do not belong to the company of His faithful people must not be admitted. Therefore, following that precept, in the name and by the authority of our Lord Jesus Christ, I excommunicate all idolaters, blasphemers, and despisers of God, all heretics and those who create private sects in order to break the unity of the Church, all perjurers, all who rebel against father or mother or superior, all who promote sedition or mutiny; brutal and disorderly persons, adulterers, lewd and lustful men, thieves, ravishers, greedy and grasping people, drunkards, gluttons, and all those who lead a scandalous and dissolute life. I warn them to abstain from this Holy Table, lest they defile and contaminate this holy food which our Lord Jesus Christ gives to none except they belong to the household of faith.[9]
Calvin’s restrictions on who is
welcome would guide the positions taken by his followers, who limited access to
the Table to those who were considered worthy. Worthiness was often determined
by church elders.
Alexander
Campbell, a founder of the movement that produced my denomination, the
Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), had something of a conversion
experience. He was in Scotland, while his father had preceded him in the United
States. He had intended to take communion in a local church Presbyterian church
(not the Church of Scotland), having received his token, after being examined,
as he approached the Table, he threw down the token and left without communion,
rejecting this act of fencing the Table. At the same time, his father was being
defrocked by his denomination because he invited Presbyterians living on the
frontier (western Pennsylvania), but not of his sect, to gather for communion.
Fortunately, at least within Mainline Protestantism, such experiences would be
rare.
In
the Modern era, especially after Vatican II, we have seen much convergence in
the theology and liturgical dimensions of the Eucharist. However, the fences
remain in place, even if not always enforced. For Roman Catholics and Orthodox
Churches, one must be members in good standing in those churches to receive the
elements (Vatican II reinstated the reception of the elements in both kinds).
Most Protestant communities, officially, require baptism at a minimum. For most
mainline Protestant churches other than the Disciples of Christ, infant baptism
is practiced. Whereas once confirmation was required in the Episcopal Church
for reception (that was my experience growing up in the 1960s and early 1970s),
now Baptism is the only prerequisite.
Within
the Protestant community, there has been a movement toward mutual recognition
of baptism, such that most Mainline Protestant Churches have opened the Table
to all baptized persons, regardless of their denomination. The important
consensus document from 1982 Baptism, Eucharist, and Ministry, declared
that “mutual recognition of baptism is acknowledged as an important sign and
means of expressing the baptismal unity given in Christ. Wherever possible,
mutual recognition should be expressed explicitly by the churches.”[10] With that in mind, we turn to the
celebration of the Eucharist. The Baptism, Eucharist, and
Ministry document does not directly stipulate opening the Table to all
baptized Christians, but it does not that “it is in the eucharist that the
community of God’s people is fully manifested. Eucharistic celebrations always
have to do with the whole Church, and the whole Church is involved in each
local eucharistic celebration. In so far as a church claims to be a
manifestation of the whole Church, it will take care to order its own life in
ways which take seriously the interests and concerns of other churches.”[11] I would suggest that these
agreements lower the fences, somewhat, encouraging greater eucharistic
fellowship, but fences continue to exist. Many traditions still do not have
full communion agreements, so while the Table might open to the Baptized or
those who believe in Jesus, questions as to who can preside at the Table remain
unresolved.
As
we ponder the current state of Table fellowship, whether frequent or not, we
have historical patterns that continue to influence the way we gather and who
is invited to the Table. Some traditions maintain more restrictions than
others. The question being raised in this book concerns how our Table practices
reflect Jesus’ Table practices. I will acknowledge here that what I am
presenting here is an exception to the traditions that developed over time,
beginning at least in the second century. I would also want to state clearly
that I affirm that baptism serves as the sign and seal of our membership in the
Christian community. Baptism into Christ serves as the sign that we are clothed
with Christ (Gal. 3:27). My expectation is that those who choose to become part
of the community of faith will seek baptism. For those who are baptized, the
Lord’s Supper serves as the ongoing means of grace, for baptism is to be a
one-time event whereas we gather regularly (some more frequently than others)
at the Lord’s Table. While this is true, does that mean one who is not baptized
or does not yet believe should be excluded from the Table?
We
will explore in the next section passages from the Gospel that tells of Jesus’
Table fellowship. These stories can help us better consider how our practices
reflect Jesus’ practices. Before we consider those stories and consider their
implications, I will briefly discuss the question of Jesus’ presence at the Lord’s
Supper.
Image Attribution: JESUS MAFA. The Lord's Supper, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=48272 [retrieved August 21, 2023]. Original source: http://www.librairie-emmanuel.fr (contact page: https://www.librairie-emmanuel.fr/contact) |
[1] Ernst Käsemann.
Church Conflicts: The Cross, Apocalyptic, and Political Resistance, Ry
O. Siggelkow, ed., Roy A. Harrisville, trans., (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker
Academic, 2021), pp. 122-123.
[2] Tony Jones,
The Teaching of the Twelve: Believing and Practicing the Primitive
Christianity of the Ancient Didache Community, (Brewster, MA: Paraclete
Press, 2009), Kindle Edition, p. 27.
[3] Justin
Martyr, “First Apology,” 65, in Cyril C. Richardson, Early Christian Fathers—Enhanced
Edition, Christian Classics Ethereal Library, Kindle Edition.
[4] Justin
Martyr, “First Apology,” 66.
[5] Paul F.
Bradshaw and Maxwell E. Johnson, The Eucharistic Liturgies: Their Evolution
and Interpretation (A Pueblo Book), (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press,
2012), pp. 74-75.
[6] Andrew
B. McGowan, Ancient Christian Worship: Early Church Practices in Social,
Historical, and Theological Perspective, (Grand Rapids, MI: BakerAcademic,
2014), pp. 60-63.
[7] Bradshaw
and Johnson, The Eucharistic Liturgies, p. 210.
[8] Thomas
Aquinas, Summa Theologica (Complete & Unabridged) (p. 4456). Coyote
Canyon Press. Kindle Edition.
[9] John
Calvin, quoted in Paul Westermeyer, “Guess of the Crucified: Still Place for
Self-Examination,” Word & World, 33.1(Winter 2013): 75, 79.
[10] Baptism,
Eucharist, and Ministry: Faith and Order Paper No. 111, (Geneva,
Switzerland: World Council of Churches, 1982), pp. 13-14.
[11] Baptism,
Eucharist, and Ministry, p. 23.
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