St. Boniface House

Several years ago I ran across a book in a Christian book store. It was a children’s book, the purpose of which was to serve as a sort of introduction for children to what we do when we come to worship. One of the things that caught my attention in this little book, and which has remained with me since then, was a page in which an adult character in the story, I think it was a parent, explained that sometimes we are happy in worship and sometimes we are sad. Now, that is true. Sometimes we come to worship happy, and we worship happily. Sometimes we come to worship in a state of sorrow, and we worship sorrowfully. And that’s OK. Not only that, sometimes things that happen in worship make us sad, and other things make us joyful, and that’s entirely appropriate. We worship not only with our minds and bodies, but with our emotions as well.

But the point that this book was making was that we rejoice at baptisms, when God is graciously adding to his church (so far so good), but that we are sad at the Lord’s Supper, because we’re not worthy, because we’re sinners, because Jesus had to suffer for our sake. It is this last part that has caused us so much trouble, especially in the Reformed traditions. We have learned, again and again, that the Lord’s Supper is a time for individual introspection—that we should take this time to try to uncover every secret sin. We think that the Lord’s Supper is a time in which we ought to beat ourselves down, and remind ourselves over and over again that we are not worthy to come to the Lord’s Table. Of course it is true that we’re not worthy—in a sense—but it is also important for us to remember what happens in the Lord’s Service to us leading up to the Lord’s Supper each week. What is the first thing we do after the “Entrance”? We kneel in confession of our sins. This is where we acknowledge our unworthiness to come into the Lord’s presence. But the Lord is a gracious God, slow to anger, and abounding in lovingkindness, and he receives your penitent confession each week with mercy, announcing through the lips of his ordained minister that he has forgiven your sins. And if the Lord has forgiven you, you are forgiven. If the Lord says that “Your sins I will remember no more”, then in this sense at least, neither should you. What happens next? Next is the part of the service that we call the “Ascension offering”—in this part, just as God cut up the sacrificial animal and transformed it into smoke (thus making it fit for fellowship with the Lord who dwelt over the Tabernacle in the glory cloud), so we through the Spirit ascend into God’s presence with our prayers and gifts even as God cuts us up with the two-edged sword of his Word and transforms and glorifies us, making us fit for his presence and communion with him in the Lord’s Supper. In other words, you are worthy to eat with him. Not because of something in you, not because of something you have done, but because of his grace—because the gospel does not entail only the forgiveness of sins, but also the true transformation of a sinner into a Saint. The Lord has not only invited you to his feast, but he has cleaned you up, and decked you in the finest garments, and made you beautiful and glorious. You are eating a meal fit for a King, with a King, as one who is fit to eat a meal fit for a King. Because you are kings. God has made it so. And not just you—But all those who are sitting around you. So open your eyes, and stop looking inward. Instead, look around you to see and delight in the glorious host with whom you have ascended, and look with the eyes of faith at the table your King has set for you, his bride, and come, not with sadness or sorrow, not with introspection or groveling, but with the joy of those who have now been transformed from unworthy sinners to a mighty host in glorious array, eating a meal that celebrates the victory already won by your Lord.

This is the Lord’s table…