One Bread, One Body
“One Bread, One Body” by Pastor Rosanna McFadden
Good morning! I am grateful for all of you who are able to be part of this service in person as we share the bread and cup of communion, and I’d encourage those who are joining by livestream to get your own elements to celebrate communion with us. Toward the end of the service.
This Sunday is observed by Protestant denominations of different countries, but especially in the West, as World Communion Sunday: a reminder that Jesus’ sacrifice and his invitation to come to his table is an invitation which is extended to all people, all around the world. It is a reminder of the symbol of the bread and cup which we share, but also of an observance which is common to nearly every Christian community, whatever their denominational affiliation, or even if they are independent with no connection to a broader denominational structure. Communion is a concrete, embodied way which we participate with the world-wide community of Christians, and with all who accept Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior.
1 Corinthians 10:17 says, “Since there is one loaf of bread, we who are many are one body, because we all share the one loaf of bread.” I want to consider for a bit what are experiences which human beings everywhere share. The two obvious ones are birth and death. I don’t think anyone remembers their own birth, although their parents — at least their mothers — probably do. What happens after our own death is a mystery; we have the assurance of faith, but no one except Jesus himself has been able to tell us about that afterward, and those reports are not very specific. So although birth and death have been experienced or will be experienced by every human beings, that is not what I want to consider this morning.
What I want us to reflect on is brokenness. And just to be clear, I do not mean this to be synonymous with sin, or disobedience to God; brokenness is part of the human condition which includes loss and grief and illness. Any human being above the age of say 12 years old or so is going to have a personal experience of brokenness, and any human being who does not reach the age of 12 is a tragedy for someone. Brokenness may be individual, communal, national, or global. It is something none of us want, even though we sometimes act in ways which contribute to it. No one wants to have their heart broken or to struggle with poor health or to have a loved one die. No one wants to live in a neighborhood which is not safe for their children; no civilian population wants a war in their country; none of want our planet to warm and our climate to change. And yet these things have happened and are happening all the time.
Jesus experienced brokenness, too — which is why it’s important to distinguish between brokenness and sin. He lived in an unjust society; a Jewish country which was occupied by the Roman Empire; Jewish leaders who used God’s law to make life better for them and more difficult for the poor. Jesus experienced betrayal, denial and desertion from his closest friends, he was tortured and executed. I wish I could tell you otherwise, but the bread and cup of communion — symbols of Jesus’ body and blood — are not a cure for brokenness, they are a consecration of brokenness.
Let me explain: there is nothing magical about the bread and grape juice which we will share today. Our tradition does not believe that it is transformed into Christ’s physical body and blood; it will not cure illnesses, mend broken hearts, or make politicians change their minds. There may not be magic here, but there is power. And that power lies in this: we are invited to bring our human brokenness to the Lord’s table so that it can be used for the work of God and the glory of God. We are invited to the Lord’s table not in spite of our brokenness, but because of our brokenness. This is where the bread, in particular, is such a powerful symbol for us as the body of Christ.
Imagine a, fresh, fragrant, golden loaf of bread. What is the purpose of that bread? To feed people, right? Cultures all around the world have some version of baked grain as a basic part of their diet. A loaf of bread which stays whole, complete, and undisturbed will not feed anyone. It might look and small great, but until it is torn or sliced or bitten into, it is not doing what bread is made to do. Unless bread is broken, it will not nourish anyone — not even the folks who try keep the whole loaf for themselves.
Jesus’ life is the ultimate witness for us: yes, he was a great teacher, rabbi, and healer, but he is more than that. He is the crucified Christ, who gave his innocent and sinless life to redeem our sinful and guilty ones. He shared everything. And Christ is also the Resurrected One, the first-born of the dead, who transcended and defeated death and promises us new life. These things are the character of Jesus which we remember and celebrate in the service of communion. Jesus was divine, but he was also human and he experienced brokenness like all human beings do. God has given us so many gifts which we can use and celebrate; brokenness is something the world does to us and we often contribute to ourselves. If we are humble enough and brave enough to offer our brokenness to God, an amazing thing can happen: we become wiser and more compassionate, more able to understand other people. God doesn’t need our strength (good heavens!), God doesn’t need our conviction that we are have the answers (seriously?) and God doesn’t need our self-reliance — where is faith in that? God needs us to understand that we need God. God needs us to understand that it is our brokenness — not our superiority–which allows us to be shared with others and to witness to the power of God.So brothers and sisters, siblings in Christ, we are invited to the Lord’s table; not because we are worthy, but because we are broken, and because we are loved. We do not rejoice at the pain we bring, or the doubt and uncertainty we deal with, or the ways in which the world has strayed away from God’s will for us and for all people. But we are invited to bring that pain and uncertainty and brokenness to the Lord’s table with the conviction that God can consecrate pain and brokenness — even the pain and death of his only Son — to show us the way to new life and new hope. We celebrate this because God has promised it; Christ has accomplished it, and the Holy Spirit inspires us to participate in the work of healing the world.