Humour is a funny thing

I wrote this for a local Church magazine and ironically posted it to the editor just hours before hearing about the death of Robin Williams... 

Funny is often associated with happy and yet many of the funniest people in the world have been quite sad people. Humour can be a difficult thing to spot when for one reason or another you cannot see the joke. Sometimes a joke may be used as a test of your knowledge of a group or culture; are you one of us? It can also be used as a handy shortcut to knowing how well a child's intelligence is developing. There is a close link between humour and intelligence. .Jokes can cause pain, they can be caused by pain, and at its best humour can be a healer of pain.

Stand up comedians and preachers actually share a lot in common. Both need to hold the attention of a group of people with their words; both rely on the ability to move people emotionally. Good preachers and good comedians rely very much on timing and the rhythm of their speech, the cadences and pace of their delivery, both have punch lines to deliver. The best of both are in the business of sharing grace. Perhaps though, one of the biggest differences is that historically congregations have been more polite about dull sermons than audiences have been about unfunny comedians. I am simultaneously grateful for and sorry about that.

But one of the funniest (funny peculiar) things about humour, is what it tells us about when we are tired. There are different kinds of tired. For example there is the, 'I've had a busy day doing exciting things' kind of tired, and there are those kinds of tired where we think, 'I've had enough today' or 'I can't do this anymore.' Those kinds of tired seriously reduce our capacity to get the joke, to engage in the humour of a situation. It is that kind of tiredness that leaves people grumpy and snappy and lacking in grace. Our capacity for intelligent thought is seriously reduced by fatigue and that in part is why it is tired people rather than sad people who often find it hardest to be funny.

And there is a theology to our humour. We can ask ourselves if our humour is full of grace and whether it is a healing kind rather than a hurting kind. We can also ask if our humour is gracious towards those with that deep sense of fatigue and sadness. Sometimes one of the most grace filled things we can do is to get the joke on someone else's behalf, not to expect them to laugh, but to know when to diffuse the situation with humour; to tell the joke they would have told if they had the emotional energy.

I hope you have all had moments of joyous laughter this summer, but for those who are not able to laugh right now, know that there are people out there looking after your sense of humour until you are ready to reclaim it.

‘Do this, do what?’ An exploration of the elements of bread and wine in communion

This theological journey began a few years ago with a conversation between myself and a woman who described herself as Anglo-catholic. We both shared a desire for Communion to be more like a shared meal with proper amounts of bread and wine, with people gathered around a table. But, during the conversation, I raised the suggestion of using culturally contextualised elements like pasties and cider for Cornwall, or rice and saké for Japan. On this matter we disagreed deeply. I was struck by how much of a problem the suggestion of alternative elements was for her and how little it worried me.

In subsequent conversations with other people, I noted that the many issues and ideas surrounding the communion elements elicited equal amounts of reverence and ridicule.  Some love the idea of cider and pasties; others thought it irreverent. Some see the practice of consuming the bread and wine at the end of a service, and the various high church rules for coping with spillages, as nonsensical, others see it as reverential and essential. And so I wanted to understand why, and if these differences could be reconciled.

As a child in the Methodist Church I didn't feel that Communion made much sense. I knew the story being enacted, but the ritual seemed to bear little resemblance to the Biblical text. In my view there was very little drama and too many words. As I grew, I found that this feeling towards Communion changed little, except perhaps in sermons that described that moment of remembrance on the Emmaus Road when the disciples recognised Jesus in the breaking of the bread, and in some ecumenical Communion services such as the Communion at Greenbelt Festival.

Though Communion goes back to the earliest days of the church, there is some disagreement about how much change has occurred over time. Continuity of practice is a healthy way of maintaining a connection with the past and following the instructions of Jesus. However in recent years, many people have become disillusioned with the institutions of Christianity, so it seems right now also to ask if this tradition, in its current form, is robust enough to weather these changes or whether there are some wider ways that we can think about the Lord's Supper.

There are a number of Biblical texts as well as Jewish traditions which provide an untapped potential to widen the scope of how we look at the sacrament of Communion. In particular I want to look at how some words are used both in the old and new Testaments, and how those words might paint a picture of how the disciples might have understood what Jesus was saying and doing at that last supper. We cannot see inside the minds of ancient Jews, but we can look at these texts that were familiar to first century Jewish people and tease out how the words of the institution may have sounded to them in the light of those texts.

Whether Communion is approached from a belief in transubstantiation or a symbolic viewpoint, one significant problem remains. The drinking of blood was and is abhorrent to the Jewish tradition, asking the disciples to do this, even as a symbolic act this would seem to be in poor taste. The three gospel writers who include what we call the institution narrative place the last supper in a Passover context. Therefore we can presume an awareness of the problem with blood. I want to suggest that Jesus was instigating a significant reform at the last supper that does not dismiss, but rather makes use of Jewish tradition. However the nature of this change is obscure to our modern western ears.

There is in the Old Testament a suggestion of a movement of life from God to his creations (both human and animal) and back to God, through death or through sacrifice. Life begins with God and is passed to humans and animals through the breath. Genesis 2 and Ezekiel 37 both talk of the ‘breath’ or spirit being breathed into man to create ‘living life forces’ (chayah and nephesh). To what extent this ‘life force’ contains the unique identity of the individual is up for debate. However, the frequent translation of the word nephesh as ‘soul’ would seem to suggest many translators think it does.

Genesis 9:4 and Leviticus 17:11 talk about this ‘life force’ or soul as being in the blood, and this life force leaves the body with the blood in the sacrifice. Leviticus 17:11 also establishes that theological concept of blood atoning for sins that we understand to be at the heart of what Jesus is doing on the cross; ‘life force’ for ‘life force’, suggesting that the nephesh of the animal blood is transferred to humans via God through the aroma (reyach)  of the sacrifice.

And so there seems to be a general sense in Old Testament language, of life being something that moves from God to creature and back, and changes as it moves. Some movements are normal and acceptable, some are not. Movement of life from a sacrificial animal to the body of a human being is absolutely unacceptable, as this life is the life that is to return to God in order to atone for that human being.

The change that Jesus is symbolising at the last supper seems to be a fundamental shift in the flow of life - through his death and resurrection. The movement now is from Jesus, the sacrificial Passover lamb, who is both human and divine, pouring out, not the initial breath of life, but the nephesh in the blood that is, as it were stamped with Christ's identity for us to take on as his Church. What is being symbolised here is the pouring out of God’s life force to all people; echoing Joel 2:28 'I will pour out my spirit on all people in those days'.

In the new testament, In 1 Corinthians 11:24 Jesus says of the bread ‘this is my body’; in verse 29 Paul speaks of ‘discerning the body’ before entering into communion. Then in 12:12-29 he suggests that ‘you (the church) are the body of Christ’. Clearly Paul had made the connection between the bread, the body of Christ and the Church. But there is also a play on words that exists in the concept of breaking the bread and discerning the body. The Greek word translated as discernment is diakrinon, which literally means separation or separate throughout. So the implication here would seem to be that the bread = body = church and the constant need to break bread together is linked with the constant need to break down, to discern and to reform the community of believers in the image of Christ.

While there are differences in the versions of the institution narratives, much of the language remains the same, and these words link into deep wells of theological imagery. It is also important to note the words that are not used. Matthew, Mark, Luke and 1 Corinthians all use the word azuma, the word for unleavened bread, but never in conjunction with the words of institution, which use artos, the more generic word for bread. Artos can also be used to metaphorically imply general food or nourishment - as in give us this day our daily artos in the Lord's prayer.

It is also interesting to note that wine is never mentioned in the biblical texts with regard to communion; instead the words ‘blood’ and ‘cup’ are used. This use of generic words seems to place the emphasis on the theological and the symbolic. The biblical text does not call specifically for ‘juice of the grape’, and the word artos, whilst literally meaning bread, would be poor word to use if any limitation was intended.

The meal that we see in the gospels is based on the Seder meal, which comes at the beginning of the week-long festival of Passover. There is a tradition at the Seder meal to break bread and hide half of it under a cloth, that hidden part symbolised the coming messiah, or the return of Moses. So in this act Jesus may have been declaring himself as the new Moses and announcing a New Exodus.

Matthew, Mark and Luke speak of Jesus not partaking of the produce of the vine until they meet again in the kingdom. This has echoes Seder meal where they promise to meet again in Jerusalem next year, indicating that this last supper is instigating a new exodus, but perhaps in search of a heavenly promised land, a New Jerusalem. But it also dips into all the biblical symbolic references to vines, such as ‘I am the vine; you are the branches,’ suggesting this may be more about how we function as church than the correct choice of drink for the ceremony. 

So as we put together this new understanding of blood or the wine and the bread, what we have is a symbolic act of breaking down and pouring out - breaking down that which has become fixed, particularly those parts of the Church which have taken a wrong turn or are stagnating, and reforming them so that God's spirit may be poured out to all people.

There are several ways to apply this new pattern to the choices of elements. We can use food that corresponds to the symbolism of breaking and pouring. The pasty and cider or rice and Saké, though the rice ought to be in rice cake form, but there are many others that could be used. There is scope to engage children with the use of elements like juice and biscuits.

Or we could use the language of structure and flow. This would apply to anything where solid and liquid are in relationship and is perhaps easier to use for illustrations that don't involve food, like rivers or the blood stream and. But it is also useful for structures that rely on things that behave in a fluid way, like financial systems or town planning. These make good illustrations but there is also a potential for this theology to speak to the reality of those situations - how might communion inform the plan of a town? Just something to think about really, But the Church needs to have a sense of structure and flow as well. How can the Church be best structured in order to enable the flow of the Spirit?

We can also use ‘the produce of the vine’ symbolism. Many plants are classed as vines and many kinds of produce. For example blackberry jam spread on toast might make a useful set of elements for a breakfast Communion. Also Flower arrangers might want to use vine flowers for communion decorations. The vine is an important image for structuring the church because each branch only survives because it is rooted in the vine.

There are also a number of ways of applying these ideas to our worship;

One way is to construct simpler and more easily remembered liturgies. This is a possible structure for a simplified Communion service;

·         We gather

·         We give thanks to God the Father for the food and drink

·         We remember Jesus the Son

·         We break the food to symbolise the breaking down of the church to be examined

·         We share the food to symbolise equality and unity

·         We share the drink to symbolise the Holy Spirit flowing out to the whole community

·         We look forward to being with Christ again

This could be used as it is or expanded to contain as much detail as is required.

Another way is to write new prayers. This is a Communion prayer with responses based on the concept of discerning the body through breaking;

We break the church to form it anew

May the life of Christ flow out through us

We break our cliques to build new friendships

May the life of Christ flow out through us

We break our habits and learn to love

May the life of Christ flow out through us

We break with tradition and do something new

May the life of Christ flow out through us

We break from our striving, and listen to ancient wisdom

May the life of Christ flow out through us

We allow our hearts to be broken

So the life of Christ may flow out through us

In the breaking of bread we are broken

And in the drinking from the cup,
We drink in the breath of God

The most exciting prospect of this new pattern is that it suggests the potential for the Church not just to act out Communion, but to live out Communion. The implication is that this breaking down or restructuring is part of what enables the flow of the Spirit throughout the Church, whether in a service, committee meeting, prayer group or other activity.

If communion is only understood at a surface level then, as our culture changes, so meanings are in danger of being lost. But if the meaning of Communion can be understood as something that informs how we exist as church then it becomes more robust, more transportable and more translatable into modern culture. If Communion is still Communion without the bread and wine then it can be more deeply woven into the fabric of our existence and through it God may be able to break us and remould us in his image.