Guarding the Sacred Trust
Closed Communion is not primarily about enforcing doctrinal gatekeeping but about the pastoral responsibility to care for souls within the fraternity of faith. The central question is simple yet profound: How can I feed those who are not my sheep if I do not even know who they are? This reflects the deeply personal and communal nature of pastoral ministry, where the shepherd knows the flock—not as an abstract category but as real, living souls entrusted to his care.
When Scripture commands, “Guard the deposit entrusted to you” (1 Timothy 6:20), it echoes Christ’s teaching: “Do not cast your pearls before swine” (Matthew 7:6). This isn’t a call to judgmental exclusivity but a recognition of the sacrednes
s of what is being given. The Lord’s Supper is not a casual ritual; it is the body and blood of Christ, the pearl of great price, given for the life of the world. To distribute it without discernment undermines both its meaning and the pastoral office entrusted with its care.
However, this discernment is not synonymous with demanding absolute agreement on every theological opinion. The early Church practiced fellowship amid diversity, united around the core confession of Christ crucified and risen. Yet, many Lutheran practices have drifted toward an unspoken legalism—where fellowship is reduced to checklist conformity rather than a living confession rooted in faith and love.
The Tension Between Doctrine and Practice
The modern challenge is that we often don’t truly practice closed communion—not out of intentional neglect, but because the mobility of the modern world has outpaced our theological and pastoral readiness. People move, visit, and shift between congregations and traditions with a frequency unimaginable in earlier centuries. As a result, there’s an uneasy admixture: doctrine drawn from Scripture sits alongside practices inherited from tradition, and we lack the linguistic and theological precision to untangle the resulting knot.
But this isn’t just a doctrinal dilemma; it’s a pastoral one. The heart of the matter isn’t about drawing boundaries for the sake of boundaries but about what the Supper is for—and by extension, what the Office of the Ministry exists to do.
The Supper and the Preaching Office: What Are They For?
At the core lies a fundamental question: Is the Supper merely an extension of the proclamation (Sola Kerygma), or is it intrinsically tied to the shepherding of the flock (Kerygma Bosko Probaton)? In other words, is it just about the Word spoken, or is it also about the Word embodied in the life of the congregation, nurtured and guarded by the pastoral office?
The answer is both. The Supper is proclamation in action—Christ’s death proclaimed until He comes. But it is also the intimate feeding of Christ’s sheep, not as isolated individuals but as members of His Body. The Preaching Office exists not merely to declare but to shepherd, to tend, to know the flock and distribute Christ’s gifts with both faithfulness and discernment.
Closed Communion is not about exclusion for its own sake. It’s about pastoral care—knowing the flock, guarding what is holy, and ensuring that the gifts of Christ are received in faith and unity. It is less a matter of strict doctrinal policing and more a matter of love: love for Christ’s body and blood, love for His Church, and love for the souls entrusted to the shepherd’s care. The question is not just, “What do we believe about the Supper?” but “What is the Supper for?”—and the answer leads us back to Christ’s call:
“Feed my sheep.”
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Go Deeper on the Lord’s Supper in the Scriptures and Confessions
I. Introduction: The Supper as the Heart of the Church
The Lord’s Supper is not merely an isolated act of personal piety nor a generic ritual of community solidarity. It is the living center of the Church’s life, where Christ Himself gives His body and blood for the forgiveness of sins, the strengthening of faith, and the unity of His people. To rightly understand its place, we must grasp how it speaks to both the you singular—the individual believer—and the you plural—the gathered body of Christ. This dual dimension is not an abstract theological idea; it is deeply embedded in the fabric of Scripture and the Lutheran Confessions.
II. The Singular You: The Supper and the Individual Believer
1. Personal Reception of Christ’s Gifts
• The words of institution are strikingly personal: “Given for you… shed for you for the forgiveness of sins” (Luke 22:19-20). The you here is not generic; it is directed to each communicant. This is echoed in Luther’s Small Catechism, where he teaches that the Supper is “for the forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation.”
• In The Large Catechism, Luther writes:
“Here He offers to us all the treasure He brought from heaven for us, to which He invites us lovingly in the most sweet words: ‘Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.’”(LC V, 66)
• This personal dimension means that every believer who comes to the table receives Christ Himself—not as part of a crowd, but as an individual known and loved by the Lord.
2. The Conscience and the Gift
• The Supper is a gift specifically for troubled consciences. The Apology of the Augsburg Confession states:
“The Sacrament was instituted to comfort terrified consciences.” (Ap. XXIV, 70)
• This is why closed communion cannot be reduced to mere doctrinal conformity. It is about ensuring that each you receives the Supper as a means of grace, not as an empty ritual or, worse, as judgment upon an unprepared heart (1 Corinthians 11:29).
III. The Plural You: The Supper and the Gathered Church
1. The Church as a Communion of Saints
• The Lord’s Supper is not just for the individual; it is the meal of the ecclesia, the assembly. “For we, though many, are one bread and one body; for we all partake of that one bread.” (1 Corinthians 10:17)
• The Augsburg Confession defines the Church as “the assembly of all believers among whom the Gospel is purely preached and the holy Sacraments are administered according to the Gospel.” (AC VII)
• The you in the Supper is thus plural: it binds the Body of Christ together. The Table is where the Church is most visibly herself—not a voluntary association of like-minded individuals, but the mystical Body of Christ, drawn together by His Word and Sacraments.
2. The Two or Three Gathered in His Name
• Jesus says, “Where two or three are gathered in My name, there am I among them.”(Matthew 18:20) This isn’t just a promise for prayer meetings—it’s fulfilled most profoundly in the Divine Service.
• The Formula of Concord emphasizes that the Supper is not a private devotion but a public confession:
“We believe, teach, and confess that the Lord’s Supper should be celebrated publicly in the congregation, not secretly or privately.” (FC SD VII, 87)
• The Supper is where the Church confesses—not just doctrinal propositions, but the very presence of Christ in her midst.
IV. The Interplay of Singular and Plural: The Mystery of Communion
1. Communion is Never Private
• Even though the Supper is received individually, it is never a private act. When I receive the body of Christ, I am united not only with Christ but with His entire Body—the Church.
• Luther captures this beautifully:
“For as soon as the words sound in your ears, ‘This is My body, given for you,’ your heart must say, ‘Yes, Lord, I believe.’” (LC V, 28)
• Yet this “I believe” is always within the context of “we believe.” The Lord’s Supper is the place where personal faith and communal confession meet in perfect harmony.
2. Closed Communion Revisited: Not Exclusion, but Integrity
• This is why closed communion is not an act of exclusion but an act of integrity—both for the individual and the Church.
• The Apology again:
“We are not to profane the Lord’s Supper by admitting the ungodly who despise God’s Word and live in open sin.” (Ap. XV, 42)
• It’s about honoring both the singular and the plural: ensuring that each soul receives Christ rightly and that the Church’s public confession remains faithful to the Gospel.
V. Conclusion: The Supper as the Church’s Heartbeat
The Lord’s Supper is the beating heart of the Church, where the you singular and the you plural converge. It is Christ for you—the individual trembling sinner—and Christ for you—His gathered Body, the Church. To receive the Supper rightly is to stand in both realities at once: personally loved, personally forgiven, and yet never alone, always part of the communion of saints.
In the Supper, we are fed not as isolated souls but as the flock of the Good Shepherd, gathered, known, and nourished—until He comes again.