Giving Communion
Handling Criticism as a Pastor by Zack Eswine
“I don’t think you’re taking the supper of the Lord seriously enough.”
A visitor to our church, sent me an email, to pinpoint my problem.
“On Sunday, when you spoke of Jesus’ body broken, you didn’t pause. You didn’t look out to us in the congregation. You didn’t break the bread so we could see you do it and know it was for us.”
He went on to let me know how I’d spoken the words quickly, as if my whole attention was on getting a task done rather than offering the bread and cup to needy people.
“At one point, your back was to us. How am I supposed to reverence the blood of Jesus shed for us, if your back is turned against us? Doesn’t that give us the wrong impression of God?”
My first imagined responses weren’t good. I wanted to mention how I’d served our Lord’s supper in this church for the last seventeen years. I wanted to suggest the wisdom of allowing three or four more experiences of the Lord’s supper with us, before presuming to judge our practice as misguided and our hearts misplaced.
But I didn’t. We’d no relational history together on which to lean and I’ve made that painful mistake too many times before.
“I’ll just tell the plain truth,” I thought. So, I wrote out my response.
Dear Agitated,
Truth is, I’d already visited the toilet five times that morning. Diarrhea doesn’t care that I’m a pastor. By grace I’d made it through two sermons, several conversations of pastoral welcome and care, and you were encountering me at the tail end of the second service. But my gut and butt were escalating their protest. They were demanding that I choose between speeding along or creating a memory that would take years for our congregation to unsee. I chose the former.
Yours sincerely,
Pastor Zack
But again, I didn’t hit “send.” He was right. I’d not attended the sacred moment the way I wanted to. Yet, he’d asked no questions. Presumed the worst of me. I’m wore out with that way of Christian relating, in others and within myself.
I waffled back and forth between honest conversation with God and imaginary conversations with my critic. The talk with God finally won out and it occurred to me that I was being tempted to do what my agitated defender of the Lord’s Supper was doing. To judge him quickly, and assume the worst about his motives, based on limited information and without asking any genuine questions.
So, I decided to write something like this.
Dear friend,
I’m grateful that you joined us on Sunday. I resonate with your desire to honor our Lord’s supper. I too want his grace made evident for all who attend. Thank you for sharing this desire with me in your email. There was a lot going on that day and I don’t doubt I was more distracted than I wanted to be.
I’d welcome listening. I’d like to learn more about your life and your experiences with the Lord’s Supper and what it has all meant to you. Perhaps in time I could share a bit our story at Riverside too, and we could get to know each other a bit better. How does that sound?
Grace upon grace,
Pastor Zack
The visitor declined and left for another church.
I do not doubt that he and I will get along splendidly when all things are made new, and we are at the table of our Lord, face to face, together with Him, whom we both love.
Until then, it has me remembering.
Communion is a grace we receive.
But communion is also a grace we give.