On Worthy Reception of the Lord's Supper

On the Occasion of the Admission of Children to the Lord’s Supper, Laetare Sunday (Lent IV), March 19, 2023

If we charted the history of the age for admission to communion, you would see it be very low for well over a thousand years, then rise sharply in the ages of rationalism and pietism, until the mid-to-late twentieth century when it begins to come back down. There are a number of factors involved in this, but underlying it all is this question: what makes a person ready to receive the Eucharist?

To answer this, many have turned to 1 Cor. 11(:27-29). There we have a threat, an instruction, and another threat:

Whoever eats this bread or drinks this cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord. But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For he who eats and drinks in an unworthy manner eats and drinks judgment to himself, not discerning the Lord’s body.

Two times the word unworthy is used; and the prescription is to examine yourself. The consequence of unworthy eating, St. Paul says, is judgment. This passage terrified me before my first communion. I was rather certain I was unworthy. Better not to go! It sounds dangerous.

I wasn’t wrong. I was unworthy. Still am. But not in the way I first thought.

Two sentences later, God’s Word tells us how we become worthy: “For if we would judge ourselves, we would not be judged.” We judge ourselves, that is, we look in the mirror of the Law and see a sinner. “If we would judge ourselves, we would not be judged.” That’s passive; the implied subject is God. Either we judge ourselves, or we will be judged, by God.

When I was a pastor in Illinois, one Sunday a guy showed up at church and came to ask me about communion. He said he was Lutheran, but couldn’t name a church he’d been a member of. It’s difficult to have these conversations when the organist is looking over her shoulder wondering when the pastor is going to show. So I cut to the chase, and asked him a question. “Do you believe that you are a sinner?” To my astonishment, he said, “No.” I thought maybe he and I were working with different definitions of sin, so I explained a bit and tried again. “Do you believe that you are a sinner?” And again the reply, “No!” He said he had not sinned since, I think it was in October 1987. Well, since the Lord’s Supper is for the forgiveness of sins, and he didn’t have any … we were going to have to have another conversation.

Here’s how that conversation is supposed to go. Take up your hymnbooks and turn to page 329. (Let’s do questions 1-9, for the sake of time. I ask the questions, you speak the answers.)

1. Do you believe that you are a sinner?
    Yes, I believe it. I am a sinner.

2. How do you know this?
    From the Ten Commandments, which I have not kept.

3. Are you sorry for your sins?
    Yes, I am sorry that I have sinned against God.

4. What have you deserved from God because of your sins?
    His wrath and displeasure, temporal death, and eternal damnation. (See Romans 6:21, 23. )

5. Do you hope to be saved?
    Yes, that is my hope.

6. In whom then do you trust?
    In my dear Lord Jesus Christ.

7. Who is Christ?
    The Son of God, true God and man.

8. How many Gods are there?
   Only one, but there are three persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

9. What has Christ done for you that you trust in Him?
    He died for me and shed His blood for me on the cross for the forgiveness of sins.

Alright, so keep the book open for a sec. These are the questions I’ve been reviewing with the children who are going to be receiving their first communion today. There’s much more to learn, but in a very important way, we never really get beyond these questions.

Photo: Stephanie Lange Mekonen

I remember on the very first class one of the children said to me, “I understand that the bread is Jesus’ body, what I don’t understand is how.” Well, we have a very special word for this: mystery. Which is to say, the greatest theologians, bishops, and church fathers don’t understand it either. You may as well ask what love is, or how God made something ex nihilo (from nothing - it sounds better if you say it in Latin, but now you’re just confused in two languages).

So worthiness does not mean having an intellectual grasp of how the bread is Christ’s body. Let’s see how the Small Catechism explains worthiness. Flip back one page, to 327, and let’s read together the third question in the left column.

Who receives this sacrament worthily?

Fasting and bodily preparation are certainly fine outward training. But that person is truly worthy and well prepared who has faith in these words: “Given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.” But anyone who does not believe these words or doubts them is unworthy and unprepared, for the words “for you” require all hearts to believe.

Fasting is good; the things we do with our body, pious actions like making the sign of the cross and kneeling, those are good. But your own actions don’t make you worthy. Your intellect doesn’t make you worthy. Worthiness is “faith in these words,” trusting what Jesus says. His body and blood are for you for the forgiveness of your sins.

People have told me they’re not going to church, or not going to communion, because of their sins. That’s like saying you’ll go to the hospital when you’re feeling better. You go because you’re sick.

Examine yourself, and confess your sins. Then go where the remedy is.

An ancient prayer before communing comes from the words of a centurion who asked Jesus to heal his servant. Jesus said, “I’ll go to your house.” And the centurion replied, “Lord, I am not worthy that You should come under my roof. But only speak a word, and my servant will be healed” (Mt. 8:8). Substitute the word “soul” for “servant,” and say that before the pastor gives you the host: “Lord, I am not worthy that You should enter under my roof; but speak only Your Word, and my soul shall be healed.” Worthiness consists in recognizing your unworthiness.

These children are not worthy to receive the Supper. Neither are you. Neither am I. We can only say, “I am a sinner. The Ten Commandments I have not kept. I deserve God’s wrath. But I hope to be saved because of Jesus. I want to do better. Forgive me. Heal me. Save me. Have mercy on me.”

Little children, this food is your life. The body of Jesus will transform you, your soul into righteousness, your body into immortality. +INJ+