In Defense of Weekly Observance of the Lord’s Supper

Mike Leake

“It is by the grace of God that a congregation is permitted to gather visibly in this world to share God’s Word and sacrament.” –Dietrich Bonhoeffer in Life Together.

I was thinking about beginning our service next week with these words. And then that little word “sacrament” tripped me up. As a Lutheran, Bonhoeffer is referring to the weekly observance of the Lord’s Supper. For him, it’s a time when grace is imparted to those partaking of the Supper.

We Baptists aren’t sacramentalists—we don’t belief that the sacraments are inherently efficacious. In other words we don’t think that grace is imparted just because you happen to be in the same room in which the bread is broken***. So the word sacrament might trip up a few Baptists.

So I started thinking about how I could still use the quote but explain it a bit for our context. Then I started thinking about how we don’t even observe the Lord’s Supper weekly and so we don’t always gather for “the sacrament”. And then Bonhoeffer’s words hit me.

Why don’t we observe the Lord’s Supper weekly? I’ve heard the arguments—that it becomes just a rote practice and it slowly loses it’s meaning over time. But I wonder if we’d have that same belief if we thought this was going to be our last Lord’s Day to gather together. Would we want to be certain to gather at the table?

I think part of the reason we only observe occasionally is because we assume we get to come back next week. There’s no need to break bread together today because we’ll have another opportunity later. If we do this weekly then it’ll become a habit and a meaningless ritual, we argue. But that’s only true if we we’ve somewhere stopped believe that this is our last meal together with our beloved family.

I know it’s difficult to hold the tension of joyful anticipation and somber reflection week after week. But I believe it’s the pattern of the New Testament. In my mind, occasional observance of the Lord’s Supper is the fruit of a comfortable Christianity that no longer has a war-time mentality.

My mind was moved this way by Bonhoeffer’s words. “Not all Christians receive this blessing. The imprisoned, the sick, the scattered lonely, the proclaimers of the Gospel in heathen lands stand alone.” We are taking for granted this blessing of gathering weekly. And it’d do us well to assume that each weekly gathering could be our last. And what better way to symbolize this than to proclaim the Lord’s death through bread and cup until he returns?

I’d be remiss to not also mention that this doesn’t mean our service needs to be somber every single week. In fact I don’t think the observance ought to be incredibly somber. We are to do this in remembrance of Jesus and what He has accomplished on our behalf. This does not evoke mere sorrow but a deep and abiding joy. When we remember Jesus hopefully it isn’t regret and pain and sadness which comes to our mind but rather the exuberance of a living hope. I don’t see why we wouldn’t want to engage in this weekly.

The Lord’s Supper isn’t boring. I am. That’s why I need it weekly.

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Photo source: here

***We have, in my opinion, over-emphasized this point so far that we’ve almost made the Supper meaningless. We believe that the preaching of the Word carries with it power and grace and that God’s Word never returns void. I don’t think it’s wrong to say that the proclamation of the Lord’s death through the symbolic Supper is really much different.

Doubt and Unbelief Aren’t Synonyms. But Neither is Faith and Doubt.

Mike Leake

27.

That’s how old John Calvin was when he published his first edition of The Institutes of the Christian Religion.

I remember when I was 27. I, like Calvin, had been a devoted follower of Jesus for about 8 years. I think I felt more bold at 27 than I do at 38. I also had far more stuff figured out. I had little room for doubt. I was far more rigid in my beliefs and my fellowship.

If you would have asked me for a definition of faith when I was 27 mine probably would have sounded a bit like this:

Nothing else than a firm conviction of mind whereby we determine with ourselves that God’s truth is so certain that it is incapable of not accomplishing what it has pledged to do by his holy Word.

That’s what Calvin said about the definition of faith. You may also note that it was mostly intellectual. Calvin would a couple years later add a statement about how it is God’s truth revealed to our minds and sealed upon our hearts.

But what I find most interesting is what Calvin adds in 1541. There is now attached to his definition of faith a discussion on doubt as well:

When we teach that faith ought to be certain and assured, we imagine neither a certainty untouched by doubt, nor a security assailed by no worry; but rather on the contrary we say that the faithful have a continual battle against their own lack of confidence.

Keep in mind that within this five year period he would become a newlywed (a glorious event but one which certainly humbles and tempers us), he would be banished from his community and pulpit (though later restored), and have a few bouts of declining health.

Calvin appears to be somewhat tempered and more reasonable in his assessment of faith. And far more helpful. I’m sharing this little tidbit today because I think far too often we live with Calvin’s 1536 definition of faith and don’t have that 1541 nuance in there. And when we struggle with doubt it floors us. And it floors us because we think that doubt is the polar opposite of faith. We’ve made doubt synonymous with unbelief, and that’s simply not true.

But it’s also not true that doubt is synonymous with faith. As I’ve said before, “we’ve assumed that because the Bible invites us to an authentic expression of doubt that being in a state of doubt is in itself an attractive virtue.” That’s most assuredly not the way the New Testament deals with the issue of doubt. It takes doubt seriously.

Though I appreciate the Calvin of 1541 and find his words to be pastorally necessary, I also believe 1536 Calvin isn’t totally wrong. Faith is a decided thing. That doesn’t mean that we don’t have doubts battling and waging war at the same time we are grabbing hold of Christ. But there is a battle there. Os Guinness is correct:

Find out how seriously a believer takes his doubts and you have the index of how seriously he takes his faith. For the Christian, doubt is not the same as unbelief, but neither is it divorced from it. Continued bout loosens the believer’s hold on the resources and privileges of faith and can be the prelude to the disasters of unbelief. So doubt is never treated as trivial. (Guinness, 31)

And that’s what I’ve had to learn. My journey has been similar to that of Calvin; where the things I’ve seen, the battles I’ve fought within myself, the heartbreaks I’ve experienced, etc. have all tempered me. I can’t give a definition of faith at this point without giving a pastoral nuance. I’ve seen too many souls ravaged and experienced bitter darkness in my own mind and heart to even hint that faith is an easy thing. But I’ve also seen the deadly poison of treating doubt as a trivial thing that doesn’t need mortified.

Chemotherapy can kill cancer and lead to greater health and endurance amongst its patients but it’s a deadly cocktail if not administered correctly and in the proper dose. It’s not a trivial thing to be played with or celebrated or glorified. So also is doubt. God can and will use it to strengthen our faith and deepen our joy in Christ. But it’s not to be celebrated or treated as normal. It’s a painful tool, practically necessary, this side of Eden.

But someday our faith will be sight.

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Photo source: here

Is it necessary to say that I don’t agree with the picture? That should say Unbelief/Faith. Doubt is the guy standing and looking at both options.

Read This! 10.01.19

Mike Leake

I took a few weeks off from writing. It wasn’t planned but it happened. Some of these articles are pretty dated, but I still find them valuable and want to share.

10 Atonement Songs You Should Consider Singing

I’m actually not familiar with many of these.

Are You Schismatic?

A needed word.

10 Spiritual Benefits of Journaling

It’s a helpful practice, really.

Can Loved Ones in Heaven Look Down on Me?

I appreciate how John Piper goes at answering this question.

An Elevator Pitch for Church Membership

Helpful and concise.

11 Questions for Prideful Pastors (and Those Who Think They’re Not)

Those are great questions.

13 Signs of Friendship Gone Wrong

Friendships are great gifts from God. And just like any other good gift we can turn them into idols. These are a few signs that maybe a friendship is moving into an unhealthy realm.

Young Pastors and Senior Adults

I appreciate the simplicity and the heart of this. It’s worth bookmarking and coming back to.

I don’t know if my wife would approve of me watching this…it might not help my pack-rat tendencies:

Treasures in the Trash from HELLER films on Vimeo.

Pastor, Don’t Throw Water on a Grease Fire

Mike Leake

It’s easy, as a leader, to throw water on grease fires.

Consider Ahaz, the king of Judah. He’s just heard news that the Syrians and the Israelites of the Northern Kingdom are upset with him and they are coming to do battle. “…the heart of Ahaz and the heart of his people shook as trees”.

Pastor, you’ve heard this one. A group of people are upset. And because they are upset others within your congregation are now upset too. It’s a grease fire that’s threatening to turn your sheep pen into barren earth. “This must be dealt with,” you think to yourself.

Your heart goes into panic mode…

You look at all your resources and notice a bucket of water. That’s all the theological training you’ve received, all your experience, all your know how. You figure that God gave you a brain and calls you to use it. So you take hold of that water bucket and throw it on the situation, and rather than making it better the situation is now worse.

Isaiah 7 speaks to this. God, through the prophet Isaiah, came to Ahaz and told him to trust instead of fear. “Be careful, be quiet, do not fear, and do not let your heart be faint because of these two smoldering stumps of firebrands”.

Smoldering stumps of firebrands. Do you know what that means? It means they are going to go out on their own. They will eventually consume themselves. And isn’t that what tends to happen with angry people? It’s a rule for social media: Don’t feed the trolls! Because you know that feeding the trolls only encourages them. It causes the fire to spread.

Do nothing. Just trust. That’s the counsel.

No need to defend yourself. No need to fall into shrewd political maneuvering. Don’t bother going to Assyria or Egypt for help. Show your trust and confidence in the God of the universe by doing absolutely nothing to put out the wildfire.

If your heart isn’t firm, though, you’ll feed the trolls every time. You’ll feed them because you fear them. You fear the carnage that they can bring about. Their anger and their destructive habits feels like something that you absolutely have to deal with. And panic causes you to act in the moment and out of your own heart and experience.

Contrast this with Hezekiah in Isaiah 37. It’s about the same situation as Ahaz; angry fools making prideful demands. But Hezekiah doesn’t grab water for the grease fire. He lays it all before the Lord. In the eyes of the world and all those clamoring for him to make a Mr. Leader-Man decision it probably seemed as if he was doing nothing. But he did the only right thing to do when your heart is swirling with fear and emotion—he casts his cares upon the Lord.

This is what I’m learning. I’ve battled anxiety for much of my life, and when crisis happen (even manufactured ones) my heart goes into a certain mode of being. I start looking for water buckets to fix what’s in front of me. I try to put out the fire. I try to make leader decisions. And more times than not I’m just throwing water on a grease fire. I make it worse.

I make it worse because in those moments I’m acting out of a position in which the Lord has placed me instead of acting out of an awareness of His presence. And Isaiah 7:9 is also true: “If you are not firm in faith, you will not be firm at all”.

This means that I’m not going to calm the swirling storm inside of me by making some sort of decision. I’m not going to quiet the raging fires by throwing all my “know-how” onto it. It might make me feel better for moments but ultimately it’s going to be worse.

So the first step when a leadership crisis is calling for my attention is to get my heart calmed by the Lord. Until I can trust…until I’m swallowed up by fear of the Lord instead of fear of man…I’m not fit to make a decision. Having this resolve will cause others to think you are a passive or indecisive leader. That’s fine. That’s far better than to actually be a bad leader who throws water on a grease fire.

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Photo source: here