Breaking Bread, Not Hearts: A Look at 1 Corinthians 11
In 1 Corinthians 11:17–34, Paul writes about the Lord’s Supper, or Communion, with a tone of urgency and concern. He criticizes the Corinthians for their gatherings, saying, “When you meet together, you are not really interested in the Lord’s Supper. For some of you hurry to eat your own meal without sharing with others. As a result, some go hungry while others get drunk” (1 Corinthians 11:20–21, NLT). It paints a picture of division and inequality, which feels far removed from the image of unity that many associate with shared meals.
A Ritual Worth Remembering
Paul then recalls the tradition of the Lord’s Supper: “On the night when he was betrayed, the Lord Jesus took some bread and gave thanks to God for it. Then he broke it in pieces and said, ‘This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ In the same way, he took the cup of wine after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant between God and his people—an agreement confirmed with my blood. Do this in remembrance of me as often as you drink it’” (1 Corinthians 11:23–25, NLT). It’s a reminder of a ritual meant to bring people together and to remember a shared story.
Table Manners Matter
What’s interesting here is how Paul uses this moment to confront behavior that undermines community. The Corinthians’ meals weren’t just about eating; they were a social reflection of their values. The wealthier members appeared to be eating lavishly while others went without. This disconnect seems to be at the heart of Paul’s frustration. He writes, “So anyone who eats this bread or drinks this cup of the Lord unworthily is guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord” (1 Corinthians 11:27, NLT). The word “unworthily” seems less about personal morality and more about the attitude brought to the table—one of disregard for others.
This passage raises questions about the role of rituals in shaping community life. Communion is often seen as a solemn religious tradition, but in Paul’s writing, it is deeply social too. The act of breaking bread together was meant to equalize, not to highlight differences. In many cultures, meals are central to connection. Families, friends, and communities gather around food to strengthen bonds. When that shared space is fractured by inequality, it stops being just a meal and becomes a symbol of division.
From Corinth to the Kitchen Table
Even outside of religious settings, this feels relevant. How often do our own gatherings—whether at a dinner table, a company lunch, or a neighborhood barbecue—reveal hidden divisions? Who gets to participate fully, and who feels left out? Paul’s words to the Corinthians seem to be as much about awareness and humility as about doctrine. Rituals, when done with intention, can remind us of our shared humanity.
The Lord’s Supper in this chapter isn’t just a spiritual moment; it’s a reflection of community health. For Paul, the table was a place where everyone was supposed to come as equals. That’s a challenging idea, especially in a world where inequality is so often present even in small social spaces. Reading this passage sparks curiosity about how rituals—religious or secular—can be spaces of inclusion or exclusion, depending on how we approach them.