Corpus Christi 2023, part 2

One of things that scared those who denied Christ’s presence in the Eucharist was that if true—if Christ is really and truly present somehow in the Eucharistic bread and wine—then how could anyone dare to receive it? How could anyone of us dare to stretch out their hands or open their mouths unless they were as pure as the angels themselves?

Taking St. Paul’s admonition seriously, without discerning the body—without adequate self-examination and preparation to receive the Eucharist—a person would be eating and drinking judgement on themselves. And the people who denied that Christ is present in the Eucharist weren’t wrong to be frightened. It is an awesome thing to dare to reach out and touch—much less, consume!—the bread of the Eucharist if it truly is Corpus Christi, the Body of Christ.

But St. Paul didn’t say the Corinthians had to be pure or sinless. He said they had to be worthy. Worthiness is a very different thing. To be worthy to touch, to be worthy to consume the Body of Christ does not mean to be sinless. As several English theologians in the 1600s and 1700s pointed out, to be worthy is to be committed to self-examination, committed to repentance, committed to always turning around, changing direction, re-orienting myself towards Christ.

So I must always prepare to approach the Table by examining myself, reviewing what I have done and who I have been during the time since I last approached the Holy Table. Examine myself, measure myself against our standard—which is Christ—and determine how I might, in perhaps some single small way, turn my back on that person that I do not want to be and take some small step closer to being the person I was made to be in Christ.

To be worthy of receiving Holy Communion, to dare to touch the Corpus Christi, I must be committed to self-examination and repentance. One of those English theologians, Simon Patrick[1] in 1660, suggested using a phrase from the Gospel that Greek and Russian Christians use as they approach the chalice: “Lord, remember me when you come in your kingdom.”

The thief crucified with Christ acknowledged Jesus as Lord and reoriented his life—turning his back on his image of himself as a victim who was owed whatever he could take from other people—and he asked Jesus to make a place for him in the Kingdom. What was Jesus’ answer? “Today, you will be with me in paradise.” If we approach the chalice with the self-examination, the reorientation of our lives, the words of the thief—Remember me in your kingdom—Christ makes the same promise to us: Today you will be with me in paradise. Today you will begin to live forever.


[1] Bishop of Ely, Mensa Mystica, or a Discourse concerning the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper. (Prayer Book Spirituality, p. 283)

Whoever Eats or Drinks in an Unworthy Manner

This icon of Melchizedek is one of several that I painted many years ago. You can see the curls of the challah bread in his hand reflected in the curls of his beard. He wears the turban of a high priest and the crown of a king, as he was both priest of God Most High and king of (Jeru-)Salem. His sacrifice of bread and wine (described in Genesis 14 and Psalm 110) is considered an anticipation of the Eucharist.


Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord. Let a man examine himself…. For anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgement upon himself. (1 Cor. 11:27-29)

The apostle’s words are blunt and sharp. Whoever shares in the Eucharist unworthily brings condemnation on themselves. Although meant to be life-giving, the Holy Gifts can bring judgement and condemnation because the presence of God is a two-edged sword: his light exposes and reveals the truth, whatever that truth might be. If it reveals our honest struggle to live in fellowship with him, we share the fellowship we seek. If it reveals either no such struggle or even active struggle to avoid his light, then we are judged because our partaking of the Eucharist reveals that we knew better, that we turned our back on our own words by refusing to even attempt to live up to the words we said at our baptism and at the celebration of the Eucharist.

“What does it mean to receive unworthily? To receive in mockery, to receive in contempt.”

St. Augustine of Hippo, Sermon 227

How do we mock the Eucharist? When we dare to consume the Eucharist when we are allowing ourselves to be consumed with greed, or anger, or malice. These attitudes are what make us unworthy to receive the Holy Gifts. It was these attitudes–especially greed and selfishness–on display among the Corinthians that made them refuse to wait for one another at the parish dinners, some eating too much and getting drunk while others were going hungry.

To struggle against our greed, anger, or malice is a sign of life and God honors that struggle by remaining in fellowship with the one who struggles. If we give up the struggle against these attitudes, we are already spiritually dead, even if we are physically still alive.

“Do you work wonders for the dead? Will those who have died stand up and give you thanks?” (Psalm 88:11) This question in the psalms concerns not just those dead and buried in the ground but those spiritually dead, still walking around the surface of the earth. In hell, there is no Eucharist; the spiritually dead, in need of Resurrection, are equally outside the Eucharist. “For in death, no one remembers you; and who will give you thanks in the grave?” (Psalm 6:5)

The dead, those who have surrendered to their greed-anger-malice, are incapable of giving thanks or honest participation in the Eucharist. These are the people who mock the Eucharist and receive it with contempt. Struggling against these attitudes are what make us capable of giving thanks and honest participation in the Eucharist; even if we fail and must renew our struggle time-after-time-after-time-after-time, this is the behavior of a person who honors the Eucharist and avoids bringing judgement and condemnation upon themselves.

Slaves of God

Were you a slave when you became a Christian? Don’t worry about it…. For the slave who is called by the Lord is a freed person of the Lord’s; similarly, the freed person who becomes a Christian is a slave of Christ. You have been bought and paid for; do not become slaves of human beings. Brothers and sisters, let each remain with God in that situation in which he or she was converted. (1 Cor. 7:21-24)

St. Paul is eager to maintain a stable society. He does not want the Christians of Corinth to become known as anarchists and revolutionaries. He wants them to remain as they were when they were converted: married or single, slave or free. It doesn’t matter if the spouse of the convert is also a convert or not. Don’t upset the relationship unless the non-believer insists on getting a divorce. Slaves shouldn’t run away, using their new religion as an excuse. (Theodoret of Cyr said the same thing.)

St. Paul doesn’t want the Christians to deny their ethnic identities: Jewish (i.e. circumcised) or non-Jews (the uncircumcised). Were you circumcised as a child? Don’t boast about it now. Were you uncircumcised when you converted? Don’t get circumcised now, he tells the men in the parish.

Confronting the perennial issue of a community marked by distinctions of social status, St. Paul makes a paradoxical statement on Christian freedom: the slave is really free and the free person is really a slave. The free person who is a slave of Christ reflects the fact that anyone called “lord” in the first century AD had slaves but the title “Christ” evokes the Crucifixion, a form of execution reserved for the most abject slaves.

Slavery in Greece and Rome was very different from slavery in the Americas. In Greece and Rome, it was expected that a slave could earn or buy their freedom after 20 years. Such former slaves were known as “freed persons” and were expected to owe their former masters certain social obligations for another 3-20 years, depending on their agreement. (In first century Corinth, nearly 2/3 of the residents were probably either slaves or “freed persons.” )

It is important in this passage to understand “calling” is two things at once. “Calling” is not a personal vocation but is rather the life situation in which a person finds themselves. “Calling” is also the committed life of a Christian believer. Christians were bought and paid for by the blood of Christ. “The powers of the evil one are trying to render this price useless to us,” said St. Basil the Great. “They try to lead us back into slavery even after we are free.”

Read more about the fascinating social situation of slavery in first-century Corinth in Sacra Pagina: First Corinthians by Raymond F. Collins.