The Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper is one the most common ritual and use of set ritual prayers in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Weekly observance is a high frequency compared to many Christian denominations’ observance of similar rites and begs to question of why we observe it so frequently. David F. Holland discussed the ritual of the sacrament in a recent post at the Latter-day Saint history blog From the Desk, based on his work in Moroni: a brief theological introduction. What follows here is a co-post to the full discussion.
One key observation that David Holland made strikes at the answer to the question of why we observe the sacrament so frequently:
Let us return for a moment to the internal order in which Moroni places his materials: instructions on ordinances, a description of a church community, a discourse on pure love leading to personal transformation. The sequence of topics here—a process that starts with rituals and ends with the formation of a new being—bears resemblance to an argument made by the modern scholar of religion Saba Mahmood.
Interviewing Muslim women in Egypt and observing these women in their devotion to the Islamic practice of daily prayer rituals, Mahmood noticed that their experience did not exactly correspond to some of the prevailing academic theories about ritualism. She concluded that the repetitive performance of religious rituals functions in people’s lives in ways that modern scholars have too often overlooked.
Mahmood notes that the rituals are usually seen by their practitioners as a substantive way to connect with the divine while they are usually seen by academic observers as symbolic expressions of identity and an affirmation of group cohesion.
In close observation of her subjects, however, Mahmood noticed a third implication of their ritual lives. She recognized that the women approached their prayer rituals as repeatable acts of spiritual training, disciplines whose repetition over time would facilitate a gradual internal transformation. They did them less as professions of faith and more as avenues toward faith. They did not observe their prayer practices because they self-identified as part of a righteous people; they observed them in the hope of developing into a righteous people. Their rituals were about the diligent, repetitive work of forming a new self. They were not static symbols so much as active exercises. Mahmood’s women did these things in order to become.
Though focused on a cultural setting and a religious practice quite different from my own, Mahmood’s research has helped me understand something powerful about the possibilities of our sacramental services.
It’s a fascinating insight into the way that ritual can help us to shape our inner lives and become something more than we are today.
Another comparison that I’ve used in church meetings is that I personally have back problems and visit chiropractors on a regular basis to seek relief. I initially attended to address some major pain that came from handling heavy handbells an excessive amount in a previous bell choir. At that time the chiropractor took x-rays and after reviewing them, he asked if I’d recently been in a car accident (I hadn’t). Then he explained that it would take repeated visits to fix it because the muscles in the body had adjusted to holding things in their current place, so while each visit would put the skeleton back into proper place and loosen up some of the surrounding tissue, the muscles would try to gradually pull back to what they were used to. Follow up adjustments would gradually teach the full body the position it should be holding instead. Sacrament, in this metaphor, is the repeated adjustment that helps teach us the way to live.
Holland explained the idea this way:
No one perfectly lives the promises entailed in those prayers. Rather, I go to church and partake of the sacrament because I want to be more mindful, more righteous, and more courageous. I hope to remember, obey, and represent better. The sacrament is, in this sense, much less about who I am and much more about who I yearn to be. …
In addition to the sacrament’s essential role as a communal act of connection, it is also an individual aspiration from a supplicant to a God who knows the petitioners are not yet everything promised through this ordinance but who is determined to help them become equal to that expression.
The ordinances are therefore not the culmination of my righteousness; rather, they are a foundational exercise that allows me to develop righteousness. That reading of the ritual is underscored by Moroni’s sequencing. The ordinances described in chapters 2 through 6 are a staging ground for the personal transformation to which his book builds.
In rough calculation, a Latter-day Saint born into the Church and living to eighty will partake of the sacrament some four thousand times. This reliable punctuation to our weekly calendar—a conscious effort to step repetitively into a state of remembrance toward Christ and into a covenantal conversation with our God—has the potential to create a kind of spiritual muscle memory. It constitutes what Mahmoud, drawing from Aristotle calls a “habitus.”
Its cumulative effect can rewire a soul.
It’s a beautiful insight into a central ordinance in the lives of Latter-day Saints.
For more on Moroni and the sacrament, head on over to the Latter-day Saint history blog From the Desk to read the full piece by David F. Holland.
And yet, let us not forget that during the pandemic, the church felt it was totally fine for thousands of women to go without the sacrament. So, perhaps not really that important after all.
That’s a fair point to bring up, Jean. I actually dig into that more with my own book, though an older version of that chapter is available here: http://archive.timesandseasons.org/2021/03/it-is-expedient-that-the-church-meet-together-often-to-partake-of-bread-and-wine/.
I guess I would say that it isn’t a fair point, but instead a dumb and shortsighted reaction to what was an interesting and surprisingly insightful post. Taking the sacrament weekly is important, and so is taking precautions to avoid spreading a new and deadly disease that went on to kill millions of people, and it isn’t that difficult to hold both these ideas at the same time.
With due respect to Jonathan Green, whose contributions I greatly admire, I think Jean’s point is indeed relevant. Granted, the Church’s response to the pandemic’s quarantine requirements was justified by that situation’s ground rules, but their response also highlighted their position that denying the Priesthood to females is of greater importance than regular partaking of the Sacrament. So, when we are prioritizing points of doctrine, we can firmly state that sacramental partaking is lower in ranking than upholding the (nowhere-in-scripture) doctrine that women are unfit/unqualified/unable to receive priesthood authority.
Do two rudes make a right? Does one’s apparent rudeness call for more?
While “it isn’t that difficult to hold” two apparently contradictory ideas at the same time, it is tempting to try to figure out a way to bridge the two. I found “the church’s” approach to the sacrament during remote meetings lacked imagination and generosity. I can’t image a god who would ignore the validity of an ordinance that was performed at a distance during a crisis.
Because our leaders do not let us take a peek at their reasons for forbidding the remote blessing of the sacrament of the last supper we do not know why isolated sisters could not partake during the pandemic. Such sisters already have to battle for authenticity and respect in a “married” church and congregation. Doesn’t their status demand extra sensitivity? Yet they were denied our most basic weekly ritual.
Is the sacrament prayer invalid if it is broadcast at a distance of more than several hundred feet? Will hundreds of heathens crash the zoom-meetings and wantonly take the sacrament in a state of sin? Will female deacons and priests start raising the dead and abuse rules and guidelines related to the priesthood after taking the sacrament without a male in the room? Does our god reject the sacrament if female hands break the bread and pour water into a cup, even when the subsequent blessing is done by a proper priesthood holder?
I like the idea of looking at the sacrament as a ritual, one that reminds me to recommit to God. The recommit part is the important part, not the ritual. In the church we emphasize the rituals and not the recommit parts. I look at the endowment the same. Just a ritual unless I am becoming that new person with that new name striving to become like God.
You dont need the priesthood to get cups and trays out on a table. Or pass it around for that matter. IMO. It is just a tradition that started when we went from bishops doing it all and members coming to the table like the Catholics still do, to passing it around like we do today because of the Spanish flu. We have done it this way for so long we think its doctrine or the only way.
Wouldn’t that blow members minds if next Sunday the bishop performed the sacrament and the members came up to drink from a communal cup. Wonder how that would go…
That we might take the sacrament 4000 times while in mortality is a sign of the Lord’s patience and lovingkindness. He knows it’s a struggle to become fully converted–and so he allows us to renew our commitment to follow him on a regular basis. And not to take wrongful advantage of the Savior’s suffering–but it is really because of the atonement that we are able to recommit over and over and over again.
In our stake (as I recall) during the pandemic, in some cases, the men would bless the sacrament on the porch of the people they were serving and then step back and allow them to come out and take the bread and water.
I’ve been compiling a document containing “talks I’ll probably never give.” Since this thread has already been hijacked, I’m going to indulge myself and post one of those talks (it’s not that long). The sacrament doesn’t appear until the 3rd paragraph. If I have misunderstood the spiritual reason why single women were upset that they could not partake of the sacrament during the pandemic (as opposed to objecting to the gender imbalance on principle) then I apologize in advance.
Mormons can be kind of obsessive about keeping records. But it is a very selective obsession. We are obsessive about keeping records of saving and exalting ordinances—baptisms, confirmations, ordinations, endowments, and sealings. If we can find no record of those events for our ancestors, we perform the ordinances by proxy in the temple. Failure to do so presumably puts the salvation or exaltation of those ancestors at risk.
We keep no records of blessings of the sick or the dedication of graves. Those are not saving ordinances and if they were not performed for our ancestors, we do not go to the temple to perform them by proxy. They are for the benefit only to the living.
That brings me to the sacrament. We frequently refer to the sacrament as a “renewal of our covenants.” I get the sense that some members interpret that to mean that the sacrament is a saving/exalting ordinance because the covenants we are renewing are saving/exalting ordinances. But the sacrament is neither of those things. It falls into the category of benefiting the living only. If it did not fall into that category, we would (1) vicariously perform sacrament ordinances for our ancestors in the temple, and (2) keep records of who has or has not partaken of the sacrament. But again, we do neither of those things.
Why is this even an issue? I didn’t see it as one until the pandemic when certain members—overwhelmingly single women—were unable to partake of the sacrament for an extended period. The distress expressed by some of those women led me to wonder if they were perhaps misinterpreting the significance of the ordinance. Specifically, I think that the “renewal” language implies for the sacrament a meaning that cannot be supported by scripture or church practice. If I fail to renew a magazine subscription, that means I will not receive that magazine any more, and thus will receive no more of the benefits I once derived from that magazine. It doesn’t matter if I forgot to renew or if I was too sick to focus on such things—the benefits will come to a stop. By using the same language for the sacrament, it implies that if we fail to take the sacrament for any reason, we stop receiving the benefits of the covenant we are renewing. If I interpreted “renewal” that way, I would feel distress at being unable to participate too.
At least one general authority stated that women in that situation could instead read the sacrament prayers to themselves. What he didn’t say was that they could follow such readings with the ingestion of bread and water. Women are, after all, allowed to read the scriptures, eat bread, and drink water. They are even allowed to do them in that order, which would look a lot like taking the sacrament. Now I can hear everybody screaming, “But it wouldn’t count!” No, it wouldn’t, for the simple reason that nobody is counting (see above). The only question that matters here is whether taking those actions in that order would help the person to “always remember Him.” If so, I think they should do it. But I recognize that for many, the perceived “rebellion” would distract from the remembrance function, in which case there is little point to proceeding. Personally, I would prefer that lessons on the sacrament focus on the actual language of the prayers instead of the “renewal of covenants” aspect, which goes unmentioned in the prayers. That would make the efforts of non-priesthood holders to receive the benefits of the sacrament when priesthood authority is unavailable seem more normative.
If we like to think this way about the sacrament as preceding, preparing, and developing conversion and transformation, as I do, then it also should affect how we think about the injunction to not allow people to take the sacrament “unworthily.” We are all unworthy in some sense, that’s the whole point. Perhaps then that word should take on a certain meaning in this application, more along the lines of meaning a person has no intent to take seriously the ordinance, or is mocking it, and so on. A person who is intent on repenting and desires to involve Christ in altering her life’s course, then, should not be denied the sacrament because of a struggle with pornography or the word of wisdom, for example. In my opinion.
Last Lemming, I appreciate your perspective. I do not believe any covenant is made at baptism, nor that such non-existing covenant is renewed at the sacrament table. Baptism and sacrament (communion) are ordinances, and there are no covenants associated with either. I realize my view differs from that of many others, and I am okay with that.