5. Why Bother to think about Holy Communion?
The Church needs to face the fact that the number of
people who have no idea what goes inside its buildings is increasing
fast. Given that Holy Communion is the main Sunday service in most
Anglican churches, particular attention needs to be paid to making
this as accessible and comprehensible as possible (without at the same
time destroying its nature). It needs to be recognised that the
Communion service may act as a very effective agent of
anti-evangelism, because although the liturgy has great power and
beauty, unless there is a basic sympathy with and understanding of
what is going on, the outsider may conclude that the whole thing is
unacceptably weird.
This means that Holy Communion will become a possible option for many
outsiders, only if the Church is prepared to look openly and honestly
at some of the questions that may be asked about it. Each of the
different names for the service brings out a slightly different
aspect: ‘Holy Communion’ comes from the communal sharing of bread and
wine; ‘the Lord’s Supper’ comes from the origin of the service (the
Last Supper); ‘the Mass’ comes from the final words of the old Latin
service, which ‘sent’ people out into the world; ‘the Eucharist’ comes
from the Greek word for ‘thanksgiving’.
The Last Supper wasn’t just any old meal, of course: it was the
‘Passover meal’ that Jesus was eating with his disciples. This derives
from the account in Exodus of how the angel of death, on its tour of
Egypt to kill all the first-born, would ‘pass over’ those houses which
had lamb’s blood smeared on the doorposts. Each household then ate the
lamb, and made good their escape from the Egyptians. The story is in
itself pretty odd, and introduces some rather troubling notions of
God, including the idea that he had favourites. But things got a whole
lot odder when the symbolism of this meal was itself symbolised in
terms of the death of Jesus, who was seen as the Paschal lamb, the
innocent victim, needed for others to escape.
The very idea of ‘sacrifice’ is a problem to many people: it made good
sense to Jews 2000 years ago, but we live in different times. The
Communion service is soaked in the language of sacrifice, with the
bread being (or ‘standing for’) Christ’s body, and the wine his blood.
Bread is broken just as his body was broken on the cross; it is then
given just as his broken body was ‘given for us’, whilst the wine
shows how his life-giving blood was ‘poured out for us’. Many people
find it primitive and disgusting, and cannot get over its apparently
cannibalistic aspects. As with any ritual the only way to understand
it is participate in it so that it becomes part of oneself: but for
some this is impossible.
Cannibalism is based on the idea that through eating another human
being it is possible to acquire his strength and courage. It is
therefore a ritualistic act, and not simply a case of eating whatever
food happens to be close to hand. Jews found the idea of drinking
blood completely abhorrent, and therefore the idea that Jesus really
did commend this practice to his disciples poses all sorts of
problems. Old Testament references to people being eaten refer to the
threats posed by enemies, and the way that by devouring someone it is
possible to destroy them utterly. It might be that Jesus offered bread
and wine to his disciples, in a perfectly normal way - and when they
had eaten and drunk said to them ‘you’ve just eaten and drunk me. It’s
people like you who are responsible for what’s about to happen to me;
it’s people like you I’m going to die for’. Such an idea is unlikely,
but so are all the other possible interpretations.
Apart from the Roman Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation (which
says that in the Eucharist the bread and wine actually become,
literally, the body and blood of Christ) any understanding of the
Eucharist is necessarily symbolic - and none the worse for that.
Symbolism is the way we deal with the most profound aspects of human
life, which is why it’s odd that many people are so reluctant to see
religion as a profound system of symbols, and keep trying to
literalise it. But in the case of the Eucharist, even if it’s accepted
that the whole thing is a matter of symbolism, the underlying
cannibalistic ideas are still there - and does saying that we’ve
symbolised the cannibalism make it acceptable? To the outsider, as
well as to many of the insiders, the whole thing is
bizarre. Smearing blood on doorposts sounds like magic, whilst eating
the flesh of God may sound ludicrous and blasphemous, as well as
cannibalistic. The further idea that unless ordained people preside
over the service, the whole thing is inefficacious - it doesn’t ‘work’
- is the final straw for many. It may be that the Eucharist can be
made much more accessible only if the Church starts to take symbolism
seriously. Perhaps only in this way can it move beyond the idea that
it is involved with magic, and that by a special person saying certain
special words some extraordinary result can be achieved.
But although sacrifice is at the very heart of the Eucharist, and
despite the fact that we don’t talk like this any more, nothing less
than strong language can do the job. If we’re really serious about the
need to change ourselves and the world, nothing less than everything
can ever be enough. To ‘give oneself’ in the service of others
requires the most extreme language that we can find. If we actually do
go out into the world determined to be the Body of Christ, determined
to try and love others, determined to make a difference, the Eucharist
will have done its holy, transforming work.
We live in a society of rapid travel, fast food and instant
entertainment. There will always be those who eat junk food, watch
mindless television, and read tabloid newspapers; if they have any
inclination towards religion it’s only natural that they might expect
it to be available in the same sort of way. Their needs are already
well-catered for, but there will also always be those (a much smaller
number to be sure) who are more discerning and want good food, high
culture, intelligent conversation - and thoughtful, demanding
religion. As the very heart of our worship, the Eucharist is where
they should be fed: it is the task of the Church to ensure that they
receive living bread and not simply pap.
Tony Windross, Vicar of St Peter's, Sheringham.
Why bother
A fuller treatment of this topic, plus 36 others, can be found in ‘The Thoughtful Guide to Faith’
also written by Tony Windross, published by John Hunt (2004) and available from all good bookshops at £9-99.
amw@windross.fsnet.co.uk