Meals and Wine and the Lord’s Supper

There have been two recent articles lamenting deficiencies in evangelical communion practice. The first is from James B. Jordan (republished from 1993) where he suggests that since the sacrament is a meal it is best served at a table. In the second, Brad East argues that (fermented) wine is the appropriate drink for the sacrament, not (unfermented) grape juice. I am sympathetic to both of their arguments and generally agree with the larger exegetical and theological work in their pieces. However, I think the conclusions that biblical consistency and obedience require sitting at a table and drinking real wine aren’t necessary, even if those practices might be most fitting.

First, every Christian agrees that if Jesus tells his church to do something then we are to do it. And every church that partakes of the Lord’s Supper agrees that Jesus’ establishment of the sacrament on the night of his betrayal is normative to some degree. What from that evening is required for the sacrament to be legitimate?

Does the sacrament need to be a full meal? Do people need to be seated on the floor, like in the Middle East? Can you use whatever food and drink you want? Some of the answers to this are determined by the analogy of scripture (what is consistent with what scripture teaches elsewhere) and the analogy of faith (what fits with what we know about the doctrine of the faith); James Jordan and Brad East both do a lot with these in their essays. But the key interpretative passage is Paul’s summary in 1 Corinthians 11. Paul rules out some features as unnecessary for the sacrament’s integrity (e.g. eating full meals together) and doesn’t include some other practices at all (e.g. distribution arrangements; though he does refer to the platform for the sacrament’s distribution as a “table” in 1 Corinthians 10:21).

My Reformed tradition has said that the necessary components of the Supper are: 1) setting aside and blessing the elements with the words of Christ’s institution, with 2) words of thanksgiving and prayer; the elements being 3) given and 4) received; and the church 5) eating the bread and 6) drinking the wine. This maps onto what Jesus establishes and what Paul repeats in his instructions for following Christ’s instructions.

During the Westminster Assembly one of the big debates was over seating during the Lord’s Supper. The common Anglican approach was/is to come forward to a rail and receive the elements there. The English Presbyterians and Congregationalists were at this point passing the elements down rows of pews, while the Scottish Presbyterians were coming forward and sitting around a table to commune together. The question became, Which way is prescribed in scripture in order to obey Christ’s command? The Westminster Directory of Worship forged a compromise, saying “the table…so conveniently placed, that the communicants may orderly sit about it, or at it” with the “about it” being interpreted very generously. The English treated sitting in pews before the table as “about it”. On the other hand, the Scottish system endured through the mid-1800s, but fell out of favor because it was a logistical nightmare. They would have long tables in the front of the sanctuary and have groups of people come forward and sit and eat together and then leave for the next group. Each round of sitters went through an entire liturgy of the table, often there was a lot of pushing and shoving trying to get into an earlier round, and the whole process took hours. English visitors to Scottish churches, including John Wesley, criticized the practice as laborious and undignified. Thomas Chalmers, one of the founders of the Free Church of Scotland, led the Scots to start practicing the passing the elements down the pews.

The point being that the proper administration Lord’s Supper doesn’t require a specific mode of distribution. However, the sense of a communal partaking, with the centrality of a table that signifies the Supper as a sacramental meal, is fitting to its nature and purpose. In my congregation the people come forward to a table to receive the elements, but carry them back to their pews and then we all partake together. The sacrament being passed down rows of pews, around/before the table still does that: people pass food around the dinner table, after all! And coming forward to receive and then carrying your food back does as well; collecting your meal from a common table and then returning to your seat is a normal practice. Do those modes of eating communicate a meal done in a Middle Eastern fashion? No, but that’s ok, because that is both unnecessary for its proper administration and because such a format would be confusing and practically difficult in non-Middle Eastern countries.

What about grape juice versus wine? I agree with Brad’s points about the symbolism about fermented wine, but his assertion that the command to drink wine proscribes grape juice (and leavened bread) hangs on a single question: Is grape juice wine? In common parlance we talk about wine and grape juice as distinct things, and it’s true that in the biblical world grape juice was the status of the fruit of the vine before fermenting into wine. However, modern grape juice is not pre-fermented, but unfermented. The grape juice goes through a process of pasteurization which prevents its fermentation.

Now, maybe that’s worse when it comes to the symbolism, the quality of the wine being artificially arrested and all. It is admittedly less fitting, for all the symbolic reasons Brad raises. However, is it wine? Is fermentation constitutive of wine? During the Reformation in Geneva, a question was raised among John Calvin’s company of pastors about whether white wine was acceptable for the Supper. The answer was that while red was the kind of wine drunk in the Middle East, and therefore more fitting, wine is wine, and so it doesn’t matter to the integrity of the sacrament. A similar argument can be raised about whether unleavened or leavened bread is to be used: Jesus used unleavened, but the command is about eating bread. Jesus does not “institute unleavened bread” and fermented wine, but with unleavened bread and fermented wine. Unleavened may be more fitting with the original setting and context of Passover, but the command is to eat bread.

A friend who ministered in Korea pointed out to me that wheat-based bread is historically unknown in that culture, and so rice-based “bread” is what is typically used in their communion services. Christ’s command to eat the bread doesn’t mean it has to be wheat-based. That’s not permission for a free-for-all when it comes to what is eaten and drunk (Doritos and Ginger Ale?), but what is understood by the culture and church as bread and wine comports with Christ’s command. It may not have the biblical imagery of unleavened bread, but bringing wheat-based bread into the worship of the Korean church may introduce more confusion than simply using a rice-based loaf.

Grape juice is wine, just unfermented wine. Our congregation uses grape juice, but I never refer to it as such. I always call it “the cup” or describe it as non-alcoholic wine. That’s not a contradiction in terms, but but a fair representation of what is presented, and it meets the biblically normative standard because fermentation is not definitive of wine.

Interestingly, Brad in his article does not address the greatest reason that Thomas Welch introduced unfermented, pasteurized wine: alcoholism. There are a lot of ways to think about recovering, repentant alcoholics receiving alcoholic communion in a faithful way. However, my recovering alcoholic friends have confided in me that being confronted with their addiction every time they came to the Table would be wrecking their conscience and entering into temptation. If I have the opportunity to remove a stumbling block, why wouldn’t I?

One church I previously served offered both (white) non-alcoholic and (red) alcoholic wine for that reason. I appreciate that approach, but that runs an entirely different symbolic risk, which is dividing communion for the different kinds of people who are present. It is fitting that as best we can that we communicate that we partake of one loaf and one cup. I don’t begrudge churches that have both non/alcoholic wine, but there is a trade-off there in the symbolism of the circumstances of administration.