1 Corinthians 10:16-17 The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? The bread which we break… But here the question rises: What is this principle of communion? The communion is commonly spoken of as something upon a table consisting in certain elements distributed to persons met under special conditions to receive them. All these are evidently, however, not the communion, but only the form of the communion. The communion is not a material but an invisible thing of the soul. Valuable emblems surely. If tokens and signals are valuable anywhere or for anything; if we will not strip life of all its beautiful symbols and affectionate associations, then these tokens, chief and head of all in the dignity and pathos and promise they intend, deserve our respect and solemn celebration. But still comes back the question, What do they intend? For when Christians are so absorbed in the external signs as to forget the thing signified, and look on the visible ordinance as the source of benefit, instead of its indication, then come in superstition and idolatry, exaggerated and foolish reverence for the mere shape and ritual of worship. What, then, is the intrinsic communion itself? It is being brought out of our individual interests and separations, and bound together by the holy and loving power we all acknowledge. Communion, so understood, is indeed the essence of Christianity; not a theory, but a life. This communion is the fulfilment of the Saviour's prayer for His disciples, that they all might be one in Him and His Father. It is the consciousness that we, who live and breathe in these several frames, are not mutually exclusive beings, but with a common care for the welfare of each other, and of our neighbour and of our fellow-man. This reality of communion we refer to Christ, because He first brought it in its fine and perfect pattern as an historic verity upon earth. He established it among men and made His Church by it. So, after Him, the Christian is a communicator. He does not shut up anything good in his own hand or his own bosom, but extends and diffuses it for a general blessing. Whatever he has he shares. The more precious it is, the more free and anxious he is to share it. Thus, too, it is very easy, by the same rule, to say who is not a Christian. He is one that does not communicate, who takes not communion, but competition for his spirit and law. He seeks his own, not another's. But this communion does not break down the sacred distinctions of men. To commune is not to be confounded together. We are individuals, each with a distinct nature, and free, accountable will. But the peculiarity is that in Christ we are individuals pledged to each other and to the race we are part of, and have a common nature with being "members one of another." This is the communion. A majestic principle, indeed, then is the communion. There is some grandeur in any way of living for others and consecration to common ends. The very meanest type of such an existence is nobler than the highest and most ostentatious one of self-seeking. The old Roman, when he felt he was part of Rome, freely to fight and bleed for her, as if his arms and veins were her own; the wild Northman jealous for his clan has a touch of sublimity about him absolutely glorious in comparison with the close temper of a man, in our modern Christendom, all taken up with hugging his gains or nursing his reputation heedless of others' success and forgetful of the common weal; while all the time Christianity thunders in his ears her meaning that we are not our own but public property, belonging to others in public spirit and love. In such communion there is power beyond the desultory efforts of individual men. As electric jars, touched one after another, yield each but a faint flash, but combined, pour out a sparkling stream before which flint melts and flows, so the exertions which, disunited and scattered, made but a feeble display of little execution when blended in the loving Church of Christ, reduce what is most refractory in the world. Moreover, in such communion alone is there any beauty. When we look out upon the bright evening sky, it is not some strange shooting star, appearing madly to leave its sphere and traverse the firmament on its own account, that attracts our admiration; but it is the moving harmony of the mutually related orbs of heaven. How affecting the permanency and inexhaustible supply of Christ's redeeming power! Nothing so spreads, nothing so lasts as the religious feeling, He above all others especially awakens. But the question we started with now opens into a further interrogation. Who and what is Christ, the object or medium of this communion? The same principle or essence of the gospel risen and meets us for an answer. Christ was and is a being in communion with God, communion perfect and entire, receiving the Spirit without measure. But, then, He is a being in communion with man too, and is the Son of man wearing a human nature mixed with the Divine. He alone possesses the wonderful property to fill up the whole space between God and man. His communion has two wings: one touching the heavenly throne, the other mortal abodes. On this principle of communion as the true expression of our religion, the pattern of supreme excellence set in God and Christ for man to copy, is not a correct outward morality, though that is indispensable, and will be a certain result. We do not feel that we adequately describe Christ in speaking of Him merely as of one that tells the truth and never violates His veracity. We are thus far only on the outside and at the fingers' ends of His excellence. We reach the heart of it only when through all true words and righteous deeds we penetrate to the warm, immense love of His communion with God and man. This communion it is, reverently be it said that makes Christ. This communion, too, alone can make the Christian Christ's follower. How wondrously too this idea transforms the outward figure and being of Jesus Himself! He is no longer simply an historic character of whom we read. Through this all-conquering, everywhere travelling power of love, He draws near. To our gaze He seems not, as to those men of Galilee, rising up to vanish in abysses of air, but rather approaching. He leaves His seat of glory on high, and descends upon us. Busily He works within, writing His own life on the fleshly tables, and forming Himself in us the hope of glory. This communion is no abstract and fruitless thing. If genuine, it will issue from us in every mode of gracious action. As Christ's nature was to impart, and virtue went out of Him from His tongue and hand and garment's hem; so, in His communion, virtue will go out of us. Our light and knowledge, our genius and power, or our worldly opportunities and means will be sacrifice. This Christian communion, in fine, makes us responsible, not only for ourselves but for all within the circle of our life. As some plants make the air wholesome, and others turn it to a deadly poison, so is it with our own atmosphere. Christ came and left in charge to His followers to sweeten the air of existence. Therefore, descended He from heaven; therefore His followers live on earth. (C. A..Bartol.) Parallel Verses KJV: The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ? |
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