Because of The Cup

Jeremiah 25: 15-18, 28-29 & Mark 14: 22-26, 32-36

February 5, 2012

I heard the great Presbyterian preacher, Fred Craddock, tell this story about his first pastorate. A conflict arose in the congregation about who should be invited to the Lord’s Table. Some thought it should be wide open, whosoever will, rather like the Methodists. And some thought children ought to receive some training first, rather like the Lutherans. The fear was that the children would come with no understanding of what it meant and that would somehow diminish the sacredness of it for everyone. Craddock sided with the second group. A person really ought to understand the meaning of the sacrament in order for it to be a significant spiritual event. But, his authority didn’t have much weight and the controversy accelerated. So, since his church was near to where he had gone to seminary, he decided to call in his old worship professor to settle things. Certainly his professorial authority would carry the debate. So he did that fully expecting his old professor to side with him, but to his surprise, he did not. So when he realized where the professor was headed he interrupted and said, “But certainly you must agree that a person must know what it means before it can be a significant sacrament.” At that point the professor turned to Craddock and said, “Okay Craddock, why don’t you come up here and tell us all what it means.” Oops!

A sacrament is a means of grace. It is an action of God in response to the humble, obedient act of people. By its very definition it is a mystery. We don’t celebrate the Lord’s Supper because we understand it; we do it because Jesus said to. You don’t come to the Lord’s Table because you understand it; you come because the Lord invites you.

While I was in Hawaii I took a couple of years off for health reasons. I gave me the first opportunity in my adult life to go church shopping. Emily was about two. We ended up at a Lutheran Church – great music and solid preaching and communion every Sunday. The children would stay in for the first part of the service, then go out to a supervised play area. As soon as the service was over I went to get Emily. As I was carrying her back to the courtyard she said something that I didn’t quite hear that began with, “I want …” I thought she wanted those refreshments that are always available after service – punch and cookies. So we went to the table and I got her a paper cup of the pink stuff – but she rejected it. She didn’t want anything on the table. So I asked her again what she wanted and this time I got the whole sentence. She said, “Daddy, I want munion.” So I took her over to the pastor who was still shaking hands, and told him what she wanted. He gave her a little pat on the head and said, “Bless you.” That didn’t do it for her.

The next Sunday we went to a different church, the Episcopal Cathedral where I knew they served communion every week. When it came time for the Eucharist, the priest announced that all baptized Christians were

welcome at the Lord’s Table. You can’t imagine how proud she was to join that line and kneel at that altar rail and receive the bread and the cup. We were at that church for a year. She was invited several times to go to Sunday school but she preferred to sit through an hour and a half service so she could have “munion.” I don’t know what she thought it meant. I know she knew it was special and that God had invited her and I believe it was for her a pure sacrament, a mysterious means of grace.

My job as a pastor is not to tell you what it means; I can’t plumb the depths of the mysteries of God. But I can help your understanding grow by pointing out some of the biblical symbolism. I imagine that it didn’t escape your notice that in our gospel lesson, Jesus refers to “the cup” as a symbol twice, once at the table and once in the garden. Same object with quite different metaphorical implications. At the table it was the cup of the new covenant. In the garden, it was the bitter cup of suffering and death. And for those who were steeped in Jewish tradition, it certainly did not escape their attention that his actions were troublingly reminiscent of the words of Jeremiah. His cup was the cup of God’s wrath that the people would drink whether or not they wanted to, and even though some may not have deserved it. Perhaps the cup that Jesus prayed might be removed from him was even more terrible than suffering and death, it was the cup of God’s wrath. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

A couple of Jesus disciples came to ask if they could be his right and left hand in the kingdom. He asked if they were able to drink from his cup and

they naively answered, “We are able.” Jesus said, “You have no idea what you are getting into but drink it you will.” Another classic example of people not fully understanding the meaning of the act. One of the hymns in our hymnal is based on that text. “Are ye able said the Master, to be crucified with me? Yea, the sturdy dreamers answered, to the death we follow thee. Lord, we are able.” I never use that hymn in worship services. Jesus’ followers, who boldly proclaimed that they were able, were not – and neither are we. And Jesus knew that.

When Paul reiterated the meaning of the communion sacrament to the Corinthians he called the cup, “the cup of blessing.” Hear it! Jesus drank the cup of wrath so that we might drink the cup of blessing. We who so boldly proclaim our readiness do so because we have no idea what we are getting into – but Jesus knows. And he knows that we are not able – so he drinks the cup of wrath so we won’t have to. Jeremiah said that everyone would drink the cup of wrath, but Jesus stood up and took that cup designated for us all and drank it.

We come to this table to receive the cup of blessing, and to remember the one who drank the other cup for us. And it is because of that cup that we are invited to come.