Kethuvim

It means "writings." I write things.

12:09 PM

The open table

Posted by Brad Polley |

I've celebrated the Eucharist (or communion) almost every week for most of my life.  Maybe "celebrated" isn't the right word.  I've participated in it, but I'm not sure I've really celebrated much of anything; at least until recently.  


For those of you who don't have much or any church background, the Eucharist is a time where we remember Jesus and try, in our own way, to recreate his last meal with his disciples by breaking bread together and sharing wine (read: eating a fraction of a cracker and a mini-shot of watered down Welch's grape juice because, hey, Jesus didn't drink real wine right?).  These elements, depending on your religious background or denomination can either be seen as merely symbolic elements of Jesus' body and blood, or as actually taking on the form of Jesus' body and blood (after all, the earliest followers of Jesus were accused of cannibalism for this very reason).  Different churches celebrate this beautiful act in different ways and with varying frequency, but almost every Christian tradition celebrates it at some point.  

I remember sitting in a College theology class ("Come to Bible College, it's like a four year church camp, but, you know, more expensive.")  where the professor spent two weeks explaining the various nuances and meanings behind the Eucharist.  It's at that time that I started to feel like there might be more to this act than just downing a microscopic symbolic meal every week.  That class opened up a whole new world of thought to me concerning the Eucharist, that, to this day, continues to unfold.  

I was doing some studying today and I came across a guy who was talking about how Jesus spent a great deal of his life destroying the social norms and purity laws of his day.  Jesus was constantly belittled by the religious elite of his day for touching lepers (a big no-no), talking with women (also a no-no) in public, allowing them to follow him as disciples (you get the point), and eating meals with tax collectors and "sinners."  The term "sinner" in those days didn't refer to someone who told a lie or had sex with a goat (although a sin that would be).  It referred to someone who was "unclean" or had a physical deformity.  Israel, like all ancient cultures had a caste system that revolved around Mosaic law.  If someone was considered unclean, they were banished from society for a given amount of time and were then considered "untouchable."  The label of "sinner" was put on them, thus warning people not to get close.  These people were, by and large, the poorest of society.  Jesus eats with them, which to eat at someone's table was the ultimate sign of acceptance and equality in Jewish culture.  Jesus' table was, therefore, open to everyone, not just the elite, not just the most religious people.  

I started thinking about my Eucharist experience growing up, and even now.  Every church that I have attended in my life has said this in one form or another: "We open the table to all believers."  "Believing" in churches takes on different forms, but this usually means someone who has professed that Jesus is Lord and/or been baptized.  For the last few years, this statement has bothered me, and now it bothers me even more.  Jesus had an open table and we, as his followers do not.  He shattered social norms and laws of his day because they were unjust.  These norms said that there were some who were worthy and some weren't.  Jesus' actions were a giant middle-finger to this line of thinking.  Why, then, do we close the table of the Lord's Supper to so many?  

The reality is that no one is unworthy of partaking in this "meal."  I don't care who you are, what age, what belief system, you're invited.  It's time for churches to start following Christ's example by opening up the table to everyone, not just those who are "worthy" to take it.

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