Denominations that only allow members of their own denomination (or certain approved denominations) to take communion with them practice what’s called “closed communion.”
Denominations that allow all other believers to take communion with them practice “open communion.”
As a rule, Christian denominations do not allow non-believers to take of communion. And most do not allow the unbaptized children of members to share in communion.
The Restoration Movement are somewhere in between open and closed, because they follow Alexander Campbell’s advice to neither “invite nor debar” visitors to or from communion. This is rather like Paul’s advice to the Corinthians not to ask whether meat they are offered has been sacrificed to an idol.
Related questions include —
* Should minor children of members be allowed to participate if they are not yet baptized? Most Churches of Christ say no.
* Should non-Christians be allowed to participate? Most Churches of Christ would say no but do nothing to enforce the rule. Each person in the congregation decides for himself whether to share, and it’s unusual for those leading in the serving of communion to declare that this is for Christians only.
The notion that non-Christians should not participate goes back to the Didache, an early Christian writing dated to around 100 A.D.
9:5 But let no one eat or drink of your thanks-giving except those who have been baptized in the name of the Lord, for the Lord has said, “Do not give that which is holy to the dogs.”
Ponder this one for a moment. The author is asserting that people we invite to the assembly, in hopes of converting them, and perhaps our own children are dogs unworthy of the bread and wine because the elements are “holy.”
We soon begin to read instructions that require that the bishop or one of his officers be present for communion to be served. Decade by decade, the holiness shifts from God to the elements and then to the church leaders. The Reformation made many changes, but failed to escape that idea that the elements are themselves holy.
And so we see how very quickly communion went from courses of a meal to holy emblems. The Bible does not make the elements — the bread and wine — themselves holy. Rather, the point of the elements is for us to be reminded of Jesus and to proclaim Jesus.
The blessing on the elements does not make them holy or magical. Rather, they are blessed as any Jewish or Christian meal might be blessed. It is our memories and actions that require the special presence of God.
Is there a special grace dispensed with the communion? Well, if so, it’s not by the physical elements. Rather, we who participate are spiritually formed because the elements remind us of Jesus, and as we remember him, we become a little more like him.
Jesus’ comments in John 10 are particularly important. This teaching about spiritual feeding on Christ must be seen to have as its primary reference something other than a liturgical observance. Jesus’ teaching about eating his flesh and drinking his blood refers to the spiritual appropriation of Christ that takes place as we re-commit ourselves to Jesus, not as our bodies metabolize the wheat and the juice.
The Son of man “must enter into and be assimilated with the spiritual organism of the believer.” People must take Christ into their innermost being if they would have the life he died to bring them. J. D. G. Dunn can say, “the primary emphasis is on Jesus himself. The central theme is that Jesus himself is the source and sustenance of eternal life … [John] also takes great care to emphasize that it is the incarnate Jesus only as given up to death who is the bread of life.” …
This teaching about spiritual feeding on Christ must be seen to have its primary reference to something other than any liturgical observance. It refers to the spiritual appropriation of Christ, however that takes place, whether in sacraments or in any other way.
Morris, Leon. The Gospel According to John. The New International Commentary on the New Testament. Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1995.
That is, John 10 is not about the Lord’s Supper, but what the Lord’s Supper is about. It’s about taking Jesus into ourselves as part of our essential being, making Jesus our sustenance and nourishment. And this is, of course, a critical part of what the Lord’s Supper teaches, but not because the elements have some mystical, magical power. The power is solely in Jesus.
And if we take that view, then the bread and wine are not holy, only blessed, and they may be certainly shared with unbelievers — if done in a way that is consistent with the purpose of the meal.
Imagine that you live in First Century Rome. You aren’t wealthy, and so you live in an insula, that is, a tiny apartment. And this week is your turn to host a part of the church in Rome.
The Roman church is organized as a single congregation under a single eldership, but the members normally meet in homes, because the authorities will not allow the Christians to meet in an amphitheater or other large public space. Occasionally, a kind hearted official allows the church to meet as one, but usually the church meets strictly house to house.
One of the elders visits most Sundays to teach and to encourage the members present. But his presence is not essential to the meeting.
The members each bring a part of the meal — the love feast. The meal will be taken after sunset, because most members have jobs that require their presence until the day ends. No one has a watch or clock, and sundials don’t work at night. And so the members appear at different times.
The women busy themselves in the kitchen preparing food, and the men rearrange the furniture to try to fit 30 or so into the cramped, warm space.
Finally, the host declares that it’s time to begin, and the visiting elder teaches a lesson from the Old Testament prophecies, with frequent quotations from a couple of Paul’s earliest letters that the church has managed to obtain copies of. The elder has very nearly memorized the books we call Galatians and 1 Corinthians. (Romans has not yet been written.)
The elder then calls everyone to the table to eat, and the women bring out a veritable feast. It’s not nearly as rich or varied as Americans have come to expect, but for the poor, it’s the only meat they’ll eat all week. The custom has been established that the poorest are served first, so that if the food runs out, the well to do can later eat at home if necessary — although it would be very embarrassing if the meal was not sufficient. But just to be sure, the last go first.
No one has ever spoken this rule, but the hostess embraces the poorest members and serves them first, while the rest wait their turns.
After their plates are filled, the hostess hurries into the kitchen and brings out the bread — fresh from the over. The aroma of fresh bread fills the room.
The members had been noisily finding their seats and gathering food to their plates, but they knew to be quiet once the bread enters the room.
The host motions to the elder, and asks him to say a few words. The elder speaks of Jesus and his sacrifice and the meaning of the bread — how for Christians, the bread reminds us that we must incorporate Jesus into our lives. We must let his crucifixion become a part of who we are so that we are co-crucified with Christ, as the apostle wrote in his epistle to the Galatians. He then prays a short blessing over the bread.
The bread is then passed around, and visitors and children share because it’s the only bread course being served — a major part of the meal. The believers take the bread with obvious intention, that is, it’s clear that it carries a special meaning for them, and the visitors can see the believers renewing their commitment to Jesus as they eat. It’s a most serious matter.
Soon, though, the conversations begin anew, except this time some of the children and visitors ask for a further explanation of the ceremony, and the believers share what Jesus and his sacrifice means to them.
Near the end of the meal, the host pulls out a flagon holding his best wine and pours it into a large cup. Again the elder speaks, but this time about the blood of Jesus. He points out that just as God transforms grape juice into wine, God will transform our bodies into bodies like the resurrected body of Jesus. He speaks of the resurrection of Jesus and the promise this offers those who have faith in him. He concludes with a blessing over the wine, and he sips from the cup and passes it around to all those present.
He reminds all that, to Christians, the wine is a reminder of the hope we have in Jesus, but to non-Christians, it’s just a cup of wine. He expresses his fond desire that all present will one day share in that hope.
And the cup is passed around to all present. Because children are present, the wine is cut with water, and the mothers help the children, to make certain each takes only a sip.
The meal soon concludes. A couple of members are out sick, and a member volunteers to carry a meal to them. After all, for many jobs, those who are too sick to work are too sick to be paid, and it’s essential that the members look out after each other. And who needs to remember our hope in Jesus more than someone sick in an age without antibiotics? The members are all too aware that disease can mean sudden death so that the meal will be a great comfort to those who missed the meeting. The elder accompanies this member, bringing along some oil so he can anoint and pray over the sick.
In that setting, when the Lord’s Supper is truly a supper, it’s hard to imagine excluding anyone present. It’s even harder to imagine calling visitors “dogs” unworthy of the group’s bread and wine.
Rather, everything falls into place when we remember that the point of communion is a remembrance and a proclamation. The power is not in the elements but in Jesus and his transforming Spirit, who will use the elements to shape us to be more and more like Jesus — the same Jesus who ate with publicans and prostitutes and Pharisees. The same Jesus who was condemned by the religious authorities for those he broke bread with. That’s the Jesus we are to become like.
Let’s get back to viewing the fellowship (communion) as participating at a table instead of seeing the table as an altar!
I can truthfully say that with all the legalism I grew up with, the open communion was stressed strongly, the point being made that a visitor, regardless of denomintional affiliation, should choose for self as to partake or not. However, I have often wondered if it was simply a reaction to the Baptist who practiced closed communion; that if their practice had been open, would we have gone the other way.
Children as I recall were not allowed. But it should not be taken as if the children felt themselves denied. After all, with all the plainess of the Church of Christ religious life it was good that something was left as special. The CoC, as well as some other conservative denominations, have taken simplicity so much to the extreme that there are no rites of passage or milestones that let the children experience their lives as a meaningful journey.
I do not see the CoC or other denominations actually making the communion into a meal, but keeping it as a ritual of sorts, which can be healthy with the proper teaching and prepartion. And letting that remain as something special after Baptism for children can be beautiful. Why not make the child’s first communion within the CoC an event in which the child is presented before the congregation with both parents partaking with the child? Maybe it is already done like this in some places in one form or another. My thought is that a change does not have to be drastic to create something very beautiful and meaningful.
Now THAT was excellent Jay… Except that you had the women passing out the communion and we all know that you go to hell if you allow that… 🙂
John wrote, “The CoC, as well as some other conservative denominations, have taken simplicity so much to the extreme that there are no rites of passage or milestones that let the children experience their lives as a meaningful journey.”
I agree. It is sometimes hard to go to a Christian confirmation, baptism, etc. and realize that you had no rite of passage of any type. For you, there was no changing of the colors to white that Sunday, no having a hand put on you, not really even being taught the tenets of the faith, just that you needed to “obey the gospel”. When I asked about other churches’ doing them, I was told “we don’t do them.” That was the end of the discussion. I realize that Sunday school often takes the place of confirmation class but there is a difference in being taught why you need to be baptized in Sunday school and being taught the faith by clergy. The adult class got the minister to go through the fill-in-the-blank book during Sunday school and the youth got someone from the church to go in and teach them. This still seems backwards. Are cofC ministers not capable of teaching the faith to youth? Or do congregations not see it as necessary? Why is there no celebration over a baptism in some denominations? Why do ministers seem happier to conduct a funeral than a baptism or a wedding, which most ministers don’t seem to enjoy? Is the funeral easier? Or is it because they just don’t know how to rejoice? Baptisms and weddings should not be somber.
John,
When the baptists start or stop closed communion? The only group I am aware of (I know little about the Orthodox) who still have it are Catholics, and they don’t harshly enforce it. I have been to mass, and the priest would probably have given me communion had I gone up to the rail but respecting their rules, I did not go up.
Mark, maybe it has changed since I was a child, and I am in my mid-sixties, but the Southern Baptists practiced closed communion widely throughout the South when I was growing up.
Mark,
I agree with the value of a catechism class, that is, a class that teaches teens what we believe. What I don’t like is letting baptism become a rite of passage. If we create an expectation that our children will attend a class and then be baptized at age X, then the social pressure to be baptized becomes overwhelming. What we do has it’s own problems, but I’d far prefer my children be baptized when they choose to be baptized.
Is anyone else noticing that the recent comments list is not being populated with current comments , and if you attempt to link to a comment it rarely follows through to the comment?
I am 53 years old, I grew up in a baptist church and until 5 years ago never attended anything else. I attended multiple congregations over the years and have never been in a baptist church that practiced closed communion
John,
We, like you, had open communion but since we had few visitors, whoever the visitor came with was supposed to tell them not to participate until they became a member. Not doing so would get you repremanded.
Nothing changed for the girls being baptized, but for the young boys, they had to leave their class being taught by a woman and go to one for the MEN, taught by only a man since being now a member made then over all women, even their mothers. Caused some confusion since most of the boys were about 11 years old and the Mothers couldn’t whip their rears anymore so had to wait until Dad got home.
Sad part that has never left many of us is that we never heard our mothers pray again in our presence.
AJ, that sounds more like “double secret closed communion”. 😉
And you are right about the effect on boys. We went from “listen to your mother” to “she’s just a woman” in one dunking. The only saving grace is that most of us continued to listen to our mothers, from dint of long habit and our love for them. It took quite a while for most of us to develop enough nerve to tell them to shut up in church.
LOL Charles,
I never got up enough nerve to tell my mother to shut up as she always had dad sitting right beside her and the wooden pew back in front of us was hard when your head hit it.
Sure did miss not being allowed to attend with the rest of the visitors and kin folks children all over at our house, on our knees for those daily prayers led by her though and still do.
So glad things are changing in many respects. Thank you and all the others for leading.