The meaning of the Lord's Supper today

This Sunday, members and friends of Community of Christ will gather to partake in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, also known as Communion. When we think of this sacred meal, we immediately recall the scene of the Last Supper. In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus offers bread and wine to the disciples, saying, "This is my body," and, "This is my blood" (Mark 14:22–24). In Luke, he adds, "Do this in remembrance of me" (Luke 22:19).

Christians continue to share in this meal in remembrance of Jesus—but why? Is it simply a symbolic ritual that keeps the church connected as we reenact what Christians have done for two millennia? Or does something miraculous happen when the minister speaks those familiar words over the emblems?

What really happens during the Lord's Supper—and, consequently, the meaning of this sacrament—became a source of bitter controversy during the Protestant Reformation. The Catholic Church maintained that the bread and wine, while retaining their material appearance, become in substance the body and blood of Christ. This is transubstantiation: the outward form remains bread and wine, but their inner reality is changed. In the Eucharist, these simple elements participate in divine reality, just as Jesus—though fully human—shared the same divine substance with God.

Protestant reformers rejected this doctrine. Ulrich Zwingli went so far as to say that the Lord’s Supper is purely symbolic—a remembrance of the Last Supper. Martin Luther, on the other hand, taught that the body and blood of Christ are truly present in the bread and wine, not because the elements are transformed, but because God is omnipresent. John Calvin proposed a more moderate view: Christ is not bodily present in the elements, but through the Holy Spirit, believers are lifted up to participate in Christ’s divine life.

In Community of Christ, we bless the emblems, saying that we will “eat and drink in remembrance of the body and blood” of Christ, so that we may keep the commandments Jesus gave us and that the Spirit may be with us. Our Communion prayers express a theology of spiritual presence and transformation through remembrance—not transformation of the elements themselves. It is therefore Calvinian in character, emphasizing communion with Christ through the Spirit—not a merely symbolic act, nor a bodily presence. Communion is not about the metaphysics of the emblems; it’s about the real presence of Christ, recognized by the Spirit when the community gathers, remembers, and is nourished together.

Interestingly, our church’s understanding of the Lord’s Supper is reflected not in the scene of the Last Supper, but in a miraculous story from the final chapter of the Gospel of John. After the Resurrection, the disciples are back at the Sea of Galilee. They go fishing at night, “but that night they caught nothing.” How often do we embark on our ministry, struggling to see through the darkness of our own challenges? We sail at night without direction, casting our nets in the wrong places. We try hard, yet we haul in empty nets—our sanctuaries remain empty.

At sunrise, a stranger stands on the shore and calls out, asking if they have any food. They have nothing to offer. Then the stranger tells them to try once more, and a miracle happens. The catch is so abundant that they can hardly believe the net is not torn. The stranger invites them to eat and they share a meal. They recognize they are in the presence of the Lord.

This is an epiphany—a moment of sudden revelation—and it happens as they gather at the table. The Spirit fills their hearts with remembrance: the feeding of the five thousand had taken place on these same shores. The meal reveals that Christ is present in mission—when the impossible becomes possible, when abundance arises from scarcity, when souls are nourished through forgiveness and reconciliation, when the worth of all is affirmed.

The shared meal reveals a Christ who is here and now, not an elusive figure from a distant past. Christ is the Light of the World, piercing the darkness of uncertainty and guiding us toward new waters where we can cast our nets once more. Through the Spirit, we find the courage to keep inviting others to Christ even after failure, and the strength to gather the blessings of a heavy catch, even when we feel overwhelmed by the demands of discipleship.

As we partake in the Lord’s Supper this Sunday, let us open ourselves to the presence of the Spirit, so that the body and blood are not merely remembered, but that Christ may be revealed among us as we share this sacred meal. Where is the Christ who asks for food—the one we so often fail to recognize? Where is the Spirit inviting us to cast the net? And how are we preparing to haul the heavy catch that will follow?

By Leandro Palacios, Master of Arts in Religion, Community of Christ Seminary at Graceland University