The Problem With Potlucks

I love potlucks. I especially loved potlucks when I was a kid and didn't have to think too hard about calories and carbs, or fight the battle of Salad v. Dessert. 

Let me tell you, the ladies in our church could cook. The potluck tables were always spread with the most delicious concoctions, and no matter how many cooking shows I've watched over the years, nothing has ever come close being as mouth-watering as those church buffets. I'd grab my plate and pile it high, and then return and pile it just as high from the dessert table. And I'd pretty much have to roll home. My taste-buds reveled in a haze of delight, but my packed stomach complained: What have you done to me?!

At some point in my growing up years, a new rule took effect on potluck Sundays: Kids had to stay with their parents in line. Why? Because what was happening was that when the pastor prayed and we all gathered our plates, the hungry young 'uns swarmed the head of the table, plowed through the line, and took huge portions of food, and by the time the line was halfway through, most of the food was gone.

I can't escape guilt here; I was a part of the "kid crowd" myself a few times. After a time or two of this happening, my parents put limits on a.) my place in line, and b.) my food amounts. Wise parents. When other parents followed this example, potlucks again became enjoyable for everyone, because there was enough food for everyone.

So, here's a term that I'm not sure I've always understood: The Lord's Supper. When I think of the Lord's Supper, I think of a Da Vinci painting with Jesus in the center and all the disciples lined up on a single side of a food-laden table, apparently in heated discussion. When I think of the Lord's supper, I think of tiny plastic cups half-filled with grape juice and a half-loaf of French bakery bread. I think of solemn worship music and reverent quiet as church-goers hold their tiny cups and their pinches of bread and the pastor prays. 

When I think of the Lord's Supper, I don't normally equate feasting with fellowship.

But Paul does in 1 Corinthians 11:17-34, and he begins this section with a bit of a rebuke. "In the following directives, I have no praise for you, for your meetings do more harm than good" (1 Corinthians 11:17). Ouch. If you contrast that language to the beginning of chapter 11 when Paul is talking about orderliness in worship, he says the opposite: "I praise you for remembering me in everything and for holding to the teachings, just as I passed them on to you" (1 Corinthians 11:2).

The Corinthians, like most of us, do some things really well... but other things... are a major fail. So -- their ability to follow Paul's directions as he gave them in his letters? Spot on. Yay, church. Good job. Their ability to think of others before themselves and to share and share alike in fellowship with each other and with Christ?

It needs some work. Paul's got no praise for them. What were they doing so wrong?

This is what was happening: "When you come together, it is not the Lord's Supper you eat, for as you eat, each of you goes ahead without waiting for anybody else. One remains hungry, another gets drunk" (1 Corinthians 11:20-21). Our potlucks never had alcohol, but the principle remains the same, and there were times I missed out on the fresh-squeezed lemonade because it was a thirsty, hot day, and I was too late. 

Paul goes on: "Don't you have homes to eat and drink in? Or do you despise the church of God and humiliate those who have nothing? What shall I say to you? Shall I praise you for this? Certainly not!" (1 Corinthians 11:22). 

You know, I don't even think the problem was entirely over the matter of a food shortage (although it was too bad that people were going hungry). But -- as is typical of Scripture, which cuts to the heart of the issue, slices right down to the joints and marrow (Hebrews 4:12) -- Paul is discussing attitude here.

Selfishness. How can you do what you're doing... and simultaneously be serving your brothers and sisters in the Lord? Looking around, instead of seeing the needs of your family, you look only at yourselves, and fill only your own stomachs. 

Paul reminds the church what happened on the night that Jesus exemplified the taking of the bread and drinking of the wine, and then he says: "Therefore, whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord. A man ought to examine himself before he eats of the bread and drinks of the cup. For anyone who eats and drinks without recognizing the body of the Lord eats and drinks judgment on himself" (1 Corinthians 11:27-29).

Paul could have been referring to body of Christ, which was getting ready to be broken on the cross. He might have been instructing the church to solemnly remember and recognize Jesus' ultimate upcoming sacrifice when He broke the bread. At the same time, Paul could have been referring to the body of Christ -- the church. Throughout Paul's letters, he goes to some trouble to illustrate how the church functions like a body with Christ as the Head of it, a concept Paul has just mentioned in 1 Corinthians 11:3: "Now I want you to realize that the head of every man is Christ and the head of the woman is man, and the head of Christ is God."

So when he says: "For anyone who eats and drinks without recognizing the body of the Lord eats and drinks judgment on himself..." Paul is saying words to this effect: If you fellowship together with the body of Christ... but leave a part of the body out while you're busy fellowshipping... you will be judged.

"I have no praise for you."

So that unworthy manner Paul's talking about in 1 Corinthians 11:28 relates to attitude. Do we crowd to the front of the line and take all the food? And I don't for an instant think that this applies only to potlucks. Jesus himself discussed generosity and selflessness in His parable of the vineyard workers found in Matthew 20. He ends the parable with a power-packed gut-punch: "Don't I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous? 'So the last will be first, and the first will be last'" (Matthew 20:15-16).

In Revelation 19:11-16, John gives us an awesome description of Jesus Himself. Listen: "I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose Rider is called Faithful and True. With justice He judges and makes war. His eyes are like blazing fire and on His head are many crowns. He has a Name written on Him that no one knows but He Himself. He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and His Name is the Word of God. The armies of heaven were following Him, riding on white horses and dressed in fine linen, white and clean. Out of His mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations. 'He will rule them with an iron scepter.' He treads the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God Almighty. On His robe and on His thigh He has this Name written: 'KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS.'"

Wheeeee-haw! Don't you have the shivers? I do. What a description of our King and Lord!!

Okay, back to my point: This same Rider of a white horse... this same One called Faithful and True... this very same Leader of the armies of heaven Who rules with an iron scepter and on Whose thigh is written KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS...

Is the same One who "got up from the meal, took off His outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around His waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash His disciples' feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around Him" (John 13:4-5).

If He Who is at the head of the armies of heaven and Who is the head of the church can kneel down to serve the least of these...

Shouldn't His body work together in fellowship? When I run (or "trot" -- a truer description), my brain is constantly sending messages to my muscles: "Left foot forward, push, right foot forward, push. Arms, pump! Lungs, breathe! Sweat, cool! Eyes, see!" None of these instructions from my head are laborious to think about; I don't have to consciously consider these thoughts -- but each part of my body works together in symmetry to make sure that every other part is taken care of.

How much more should it be for the body of Christ, that we should serve each other in perfect symmetry while listening to our Head? "Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus, Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made Himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient to death, even death on a cross! Therefore, God exalted Him to the highest place and gave Him the Name that is above every name, that at the Name of Jesus, every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father" (Philippians 2:5-11).

The Head fellowships with the body. So the body fellowships with the Head and all its other parts. It's what a body does. 

I know. I can hear your frustration from here, because I'm struggling with frustration, too. How can we fellowship as a single body when the foot wants to go a different direction from the Head? Or when one arm clings to something the Head has said to let go? Paul addresses this in several places: 1 Corinthians 5 is a hard but good word on it, and I wrote a couple of reflections about it. I'll link those here: Making Bread Without Yeast and Word for the Church: Watchers in the Wings.

But for those who are a part of the body, who stay connected with the Head... let's reflect that Philippians 2 attitude, shall we?