Portrayal of Christ administering the sacrament during the Last Supper. Intellectual Reserve, Inc.
ABSTRACT: Latter-day Saints usually emphasize the introspective quality of the sacrament. In other words, they describe the ordinance as an opportunity for self-reflection and self-examination. While this is an indispensable component of the sacrament, a more communal aspect is also fundamental to the ordinance. This article explores how Christians from the first three centuries AD understood the sacrament as an opportunity to look inward as well as outward. For them the sacrament was a ritual that facilitated connection with others. As the early Christians shared sacramental meals, they forged unity with their local congregation, the broader Christian church, and God’s vast creation.
KEYWORDS: sacrament, early Christian church, unity, Sabbath day
When Latter-day Saints discuss the sacrament, they typically stress the personal, introspective nature of the sacred ritual. For instance, President Jeffrey R. Holland referred to the sacrament as a “renewal for the soul,”[1] and Sister Cheryl A. Esplin, then Second Counselor in the Primary General Presidency, employed the same language in a general conference address.[2] According to this oft-repeated viewpoint, the sacrament represents an opportunity for “self-evaluation”[3] as Saints “renew covenants with the Lord.”[4] Hence, in the words of President Holland, the sacrament “should be a powerful, reverent, reflective moment.”[5] Similarly, President Russell M. Nelson taught that during the sacrament “each of us is to ‘examine himself’ (1 Cor. 11:28) and reflect upon personal covenants made with the Lord. At this time, we meditate upon the sacred things of God.”[6] In short, latter-day Church leaders have repeatedly emphasized that the sacrament is an intensely personal rite that facilitates introspection.
While individual soul-searching is a crucial element of the sacrament, a more outward dynamic is also fundamental to this sacred ordinance. Doctrine and Covenants 20:75 teaches, “It is expedient that the church meet together often to partake of bread and wine in the remembrance of the Lord Jesus”(emphasis added). In other words, the sacrament is not merely an individual rite but something the Lord commands the Saints to partake of collectively; it is inherently a social practice intended to be observed in community.
Christians of the first three centuries AD accentuated the outward-looking dimension of the sacrament. Their communal orientation is largely due to the meal setting in which the ancient sacrament was observed. Since the sacrament was a meal that early Christians shared together, they naturally associated the rite with the social components that undergird meal sharing. What is more, early Christian sources describe the sacrament as something cosmic: the rite connected ancient Christians to God’s grand creation. Thus, while Latter-day Saints typically concentrate on the introspective aspect of the sacrament, ancient believers often highlighted its extrospective role in uniting them to other believers, as well as to the created order. This article is an invitation for Latter-day Saints to broaden their views of the sacrament by exploring how early Christians conceptualized the ordinance in the first three centuries AD when it constituted a shared meal.
The Sacrament as Meal
For the earliest Christians, the sacrament, often termed the Eucharist, was a full meal.[7] While early Christian communities varied in what foods they ate at these repasts, they were united in celebrating the eucharistic rite as a communal banquet.[8] However, in the third century AD, the growth of the church, likely among other factors, led to the separation of the Eucharist from a meal setting.[9] In this later era, the Eucharist constituted token foodstuffs rather than a communal feast. Ever since the third century, Christians have mostly celebrated the Eucharist as token food. Such a major transition—from communal banquet to food token—shifted the dynamics of the Eucharist to a large degree. The experience of consuming the Eucharistic meal in the earlier era was significantly different from partaking of token bread and wine in later centuries. We can learn much about the meaning of the sacrament by exploring Christian sources from the first three centuries when the sacrament was a repast. But before we explore the interpretations of the Eucharist in that ancient era, we must examine the role of communal meals more broadly in the Greco-Roman world in which the Eucharistic meal emerged.
Christians were not unique in gathering to share food. In the ancient Mediterranean world, social gatherings typically centered on a common meal.[10] These meals were universally based on the common Roman banquet tradition, regardless of their various settings. In other words, the Roman banquet tradition served as the “pattern for all formalized meals in the Mediterranean world.”[11] At Roman banquets, diners typically reclined on three couches that formed a U shape around a central table. In this arrangement (called a triclinium), the diners sharing a couch would recline next to one another, usually leaning on their left side in order to free the right arm to take food. Meals in this setting typically consisted of multiple courses and wine. Also, some sort of entertainment (e.g., recitation of literature, musical performance) was customary.[12]
This Roman banquet pattern was adapted to a number of different occasions in the ancient world. These included symposia, festival meals, and ethnically specific meals (such as Jewish meals).[13] Even if hosts did not have the financial means to offer multiple courses of food or furnish their dining setting with the couches and table of a triclinium, their formal dining practices were still informed by the Roman banquet tradition.[14] The banquet’s emphasis on togetherness (discussed below) was particularly important in shaping communal meals in the ancient world. Ultimately, meals took similar forms and shared meanings across “a broad range” of cultures in the ancient world.[15]
Significantly, Jewish festive meals were part of this Roman banqueting world.[16] In the past, scholars erroneously treated the Eucharist as the product of a Jewish meal setting that was largely distinct from the banquets of the greater Greco-Roman milieu.[17] More specifically, scholars of earlier generations mistakenly sought to situate the origins of the Eucharist in the ritualized Passover meal called the Seder.[18] Yet the famous Passover Seder with its highly ritualized form was celebrated by Jews in the Middle Ages and did not exist in the first century AD.[19] To be sure, recent scholarship emphasizes that most elements of the elaborate Seder stem from rabbinic Judaism, which flourished in the centuries after the destruction of the Jerusalem temple in AD 70. That is, while Jews of Jesus’s day indeed celebrated the Passover with a meal, the feast largely resembled banquets of the broader Mediterranean world. As one recent study on the subject summarizes,
From what scanty evidence is available, it appears that Judaic festive meals in Palestine were greatly influenced by Graeco-Roman norms. It therefore does not make sense to argue that the background of Jesus’ Last Supper is in the Judaic tradition of the Passover meal, and that consequently this was the source upon which Jesus’ followers modelled their communal meals known as the Eucharist.[20]
Thus, the Eucharist should not be understood through the lens of the later, highly ritualized Seder of rabbinic Judaism but rather within the context of earlier Greco-Roman dining practices.[21] Admittedly, certain elements of the meal were uniquely Jewish—including the consumption of a paschal lamb—but the meal’s overall form was by no means foreign to Roman banquets.[22]
This being the case, the Roman banquet is a promising subject to explore if we want to understand the environment in which the earliest Eucharistic celebrations took place. The central function of most Roman banquets was to forge unity among a group of associates. As anthropological literature demonstrates, meals are significant vehicles for forming group identity in a variety of cultures, and this was certainly the case for ancient people of the Mediterranean.[23] Upon entering the place of the triclinium, diners performed rituals such as foot washing that set them apart from the outside world and indicated they were forming an isolated group of insiders. As one scholar observes, “above all, foot washing was symbolic: in removing one’s shoes, one was shaking off earthly bonds. One could no longer run into the street but had entered the spiritual sphere of the triclinium.”[24] This set-apart sphere created a space of unity among diners who shared the meal.[25] It meant “sharing a bond of friendship and trust” in an exclusive place.[26] Whether a private affair that often consisted of nine diners or a larger gathering that could include dozens of guests, banquets forged social connection.[27] Indeed, for many, the opportunity to socialize with friends at the ancient banquet was more attractive than the food that was served. As one ancient observer noted, “We invite each other not for the sake of eating and drinking, but for drinking together and eating together.”[28]
The Sacrament as Union
Christianity in the first three centuries AD lacked cohesion. For instance, one seminal study argues that Christians in first- and second-century Rome lived in a state of “fractionation.”[29] Though eminent figures emerged in the second century who tried to unify broader Christian communities, these figures were mostly unsuccessful.[30] In terms of belief and practice, Christians remained far from monolithic. In fact, they were so diverse in the first three centuries that some scholars prefer to use the plural designation “early Christianities” rather than the singular “early Christianity.”[31]
The Last Supper appears to have resembled banquets of the larger Mediterranean world more than the Judaic tradition of the Passover meal. Intellectual Reserve, Inc.
This lack of cohesion is evident in the early celebrations of the Eucharist. For instance, speaking of the third century, one scholar notes, “This is a century that has no universal pattern of Eucharistic practice, nor is there a single theological interpretation of what the Eucharist means.”[32] While many Christian traditions today uniformly celebrate the Eucharist by uttering the “words of institution” (i.e., Jesus’s words “this is my body” and “this is the cup of my blood”), evidence suggests that Christians did not begin employing these words in worship until the fourth century.[33] Before this time, no uniformity reigned.[34] The diversity of Eucharistic practices is reflected in the preponderance of terms employed for the Christian rite. Christians variously called it the Eucharist, the Breaking of Bread, Agape, the Lord’s Supper, the Offering, the Symbol, and God’s Banquet, among many other designations.[35]
Despite this diversity, a common theme prevails in early sources that discuss the Eucharist: unity. Christians broadly viewed the rite as something that forged community. Thus, like other forms of the Roman banquet, the Christian meal was intended to unify, even if it did not always succeed in fulfilling this function.
Unity is a central theme in Gospel accounts of Jesus eating meals. Jesus was known to dine with sinners and outcasts, thereby unifying people of different backgrounds. His manner of eating reflected the inclusive “content of his message and the ethos of the group that followed him.”[36] This unifying dynamic is evident in his final meal. In the account of the Last Supper, Jesus instructs his disciples to “all” drink from the same cup (Matthew 26:27). Furthermore, he commands his disciples to remember him by replicating the ritual of eating bread and drinking wine in the future (Luke 22:19). Surely, his command to continually do “this” in his remembrance does not simply mean to eat the symbolic food but also to gather together for the holy meal.[37] In other words, Jesus is not simply commanding his disciples to eat the Eucharist alone, but to repeatedly consume it in the way he did—gathered with friends.
The emphasis on sacramental unity is evident in Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, where he scolds the Corinthians for coming together so that each person can eat “their own dinner” rather than share “the Lord’s dinner” with one another (11:20–21, my translation).[38] While the meal was supposed to bring unity, factions had disrupted the sharing of food in Corinth. Paul bemoans the fact that some congregants indulge and become drunk at the Christian banquet while others leave hungry (v. 21). Thus, rather than uniting the community, the meal had become a means of further dividing Corinthian Christians. In addressing this situation, Paul draws on imagery from the Eucharistic bread to teach that all Christians form a singular body: “Since there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread” (10:17, my translation). For Paul, the unity of the Christian congregation was revealed in the singular loaf of bread they all shared.[39]
This imagery of bread unification appears in the Didache, a Christian writing dating to about AD 100.[40] The Didache provides what could be the oldest surviving outline of Eucharistic practices, and the document is plausibly the first writing to refer to the Christian meal as the “Eucharist,” which means “thanksgiving” in Greek.[41] Surprisingly for modern readers, the Didache’s discussion of the Eucharist does not refer to the death, body, or blood of Jesus. Instead, the Didache emphasizes other concerns, especially unity. In a passage that resembles Paul’s imagery from 1 Corinthians, the Didache prescribes the following statement to be made in the prayer over the Eucharistic bread: “Just as this broken bread was scattered upon the hills and then was gathered and became one, so also let your church be gathered from the ends of the earth into your kingdom.”[42] In other words, just as the ingredients of bread were dispersed across the hills and brought together to form a single loaf, so also Christians from diverse backgrounds should be gathered together to form a single church. The unity of various believers is reflected in the one Eucharistic bread.
The Didache makes another connection between the Eucharist and a unified people as well: It associates the Eucharist with the gathering of Israel. As part of the Eucharist, the Didache instructs its readers to offer a prayer praising the “God of David.”[43] Furthermore, in a prescribed prayer over the Eucharistic cup, the Didache refers to Jesus as the “child” of David, highlighting the royal lineage of both the Davidic Christ and his people.[44] Accordingly, the partakers of the Eucharist constitute God’s chosen people of the Davidic covenant.[45] Furthermore, like scattered Israel, the faithful are described in the Didache as being dispersed throughout the earth. Echoing the unity prayer on the bread mentioned above, the Didache instructs its readers to offer a prayer following the administration of the Eucharist, pleading that the Father will “gather the church from the four winds [of the earth].”[46] For Latter-day Saints, this imagery of gathering recalls the prophetic call to gather Israel, something that President Nelson repeatedly emphasized in recent years. The Eucharistic descriptions of the Didache can inspire Latter-day Saints to partake of the sacrament with fellow members of gathered Israel, knowing also that many more members are waiting to be gathered.
Another early Christian source that discusses Eucharistic unity is Ignatius of Antioch, a bishop who lived in the early second century (ca. AD 108–140). Ignatius was very concerned about the structure of the church and sought to bring all Christians under the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of bishops. In his letters to Christians in various cities around the Mediterranean, Ignatius exhorts all to unite in one Eucharistic meal under their respective urban bishops.[47] For instance, after warning of the dangers of schismatics, Ignatius advises Christians in Philadelphia, “Strive therefore to participate in one Eucharist. For there is one flesh of our Lord Jesus Christ and one cup that leads to unity in his blood. Furthermore, there is one altar, just as there is one bishop.”[48] Moreover, Ignatius informs Christians at Ephesus to gather in “one faith” to worship the “one Jesus Christ” by “breaking one bread.”[49] For Ignatius, Christians should be united under the one Lord, and this unity is facilitated by the one cup and one bread of the Eucharist. This notion can inspire Latter-day Saints as they partake of the sacrament. They can ask themselves what it means to share the sacrament with their fellow ward members. They can seek to be one as they all partake of the same blessed loaf.
Another early Christian work, the Gospel of Philip, emphasizes a different type of unity in the Eucharist.[50] It was written pseudonymously in the late second or early third century under the name of Jesus’s apostle Philip.[51] An enigmatic passage on the Eucharist asserts, “[Jesus] said on that day in the Eucharist: The one who has united the Perfect Light to the Holy Spirit, unite angels to us also.”[52] This esoteric passage alludes to the theme of the bridal chamber, a doctrine of spiritual marriage espoused by followers of the famous Christian teacher named Valentinus (ca. AD 100–160).[53] The Valentinian bridal chamber—which refers not to a literal bedroom but to the most sacred rite for Christians associated with Valentinus—united two parties together spiritually. In the Gospel of Philip’s passage on the Eucharist, the union of the “Perfect Light” and the “Holy Spirit” refers to God uniting the Savior with a heavenly being named Sophia in spiritual union.[54] Similarly, the text notes, God would likewise unite righteous humans with their angelic counterparts in the bridal chamber.[55] Significantly, the Gospel of Philip locates this spiritual union in the Eucharist; the meal is the setting where the bridal chamber comes to fruition. As one modern commentator postulates, the Gospel of Philip’s pairing of a sacred meal with nuptial imagery likely means that the author of that text imagines the Eucharist to be a type of wedding banquet.[56] That is, the Eucharist is a meal celebrating the spiritual union of two parties. While the Valentinian bridal chamber is substantially different from Latter-day Saint teachings on eternal marriage—a point that BYU ancient scripture professor Gaye Strathearn has learnedly articulated—the imagery of the Eucharistic bridal chamber can still inspire Latter-day Saint sacrament rituals.[57] As members of the Church partake of the sacrament, they can remember those to whom they have been sealed—those whom God has united to them spiritually.
Overall, various Christian writings from the first three centuries underscore Eucharistic unity in different fashions. Although these early Christians were ultimately unable to achieve unity via the Eucharist, their emphasis on union is still inspiring. They viewed the meal as a means for unifying the spiritually wedded, local Christian communities, and scattered Israel. From an intimate to a worldwide scale, the Eucharistic meal was understood to be a ritual that could make Christians one.
The Sacrament as Creation
Malachi 1:10–11 speaks of God rejecting the temple sacrifices of Israel and turning his favor to the Gentiles:
“Oh, that one of you would shut the temple doors, so that you would not kindle fire on my altar in vain! I am not pleased with you,” says the Lord of Hosts, “and I will not accept an offering from your hands. For from the rising of the sun to its setting my name is great among the Gentiles. And in every place incense is offered to my name, and a pure offering. For my name is great among the Gentiles.”[58]
Many early Christians interpreted these verses as a prophecy that the Eucharist would be celebrated by the Gentiles all over the world. For instance, the Didache refers to this passage, identifying the Eucharist as the “pure sacrifice” that would be offered to honor the name of the Lord “among the Gentiles.”[59] Similarly, Justin Martyr (ca. AD 100–165), an early Christian philosopher and martyr, references the Malachi passage multiple times, interpreting it as a clear indication that God rejected Israel and showed his grace instead to the worldwide community of Gentiles who celebrated the Eucharist.[60] Likewise, Irenaeus of Lyons (ca. AD 130–202), an important Christian bishop and theologian, reads Malachi in the same fashion.[61] Indeed, the passage from Malachi undergirds so much early literature on the Eucharist that one modern scholar has suggested that Malachi 1:10–11 was the central text for most Eucharistic prayers of the first three centuries, not the Last Supper scenes that have been employed in Eucharistic invocations since the fourth century.[62] Regardless of whether this was the case, the Malachi passage was central to understanding the Eucharistic meal for many Christians. They believed that the Eucharist served as a reminder of the communities of Christian converts who partook of the sacramental meal all over the known world, a reality that they believed was prophesied by Malachi.
Another aspect of Malachi 1:10–11 was significant for early interpretations of the Christian meal: Malachi’s reference to the universal reach of the “Gentiles” from sunrise to sunset led many Christians to associate the Eucharist with God’s wondrous creation.[63] Evidence does not permit us to determine whether the Malachi passage was the only source that inspired Christians to think of the Eucharist in relation to the cosmic order. Regardless, Christians widely spoke of the Eucharist in cosmic terms that recalled God’s creation of the earth. For instance, the Didache instructs its audience to offer a prayer to the Father as part of the Eucharist, thanking him that he “created all things.”[64]
Justin Martyr also links the Eucharist to the Creation. In a brief account of the sacred Christian meal, Justin Martyr notes that the bread and a mixture of wine and water are brought to the leader of the community, who “gives praise and glory to the Father of the universe” before distributing the bread and wine.[65] Note how the praise is to the creator of the universe. A little later in the same writing, Justin provides the most extensive outline of early Christian worship from the second century:[66]
And on the day called Sunday there is an assembly of those who dwell in cities or the countryside, and the memoirs of the apostles or the writings of the prophets are read, for as long as there is time. Then, when the reader has stopped, the president, in an address, makes admonition and invitation of the imitation of their good things. Then we all stand up together and send prayers. And, as we said before, when we have stopped praying, bread and wine and water are brought, and the president sends up prayers and thanksgivings in similar fashion, to the best of his ability, and the people give their assent, saying “Amen.” And there is a distribution and a partaking of the eucharitized elements to each one, and it is sent to those who are not present by means of the deacons.[67]
Justin goes on to explain the reason that Christians worship on Sunday, relating it to the Creation: “Sunday is the day on which we all hold our common assembly, because it is the first day on which God changed darkness and matter and made the world; and Jesus Christ our Savior rose from the dead on the same day.”[68] Here Justin notes that Sunday worship, including the ritual of the Eucharist, is directly related not only to Christ’s resurrection but also to the Creation. Elsewhere Justin similarly remarks that Christ instituted the Eucharist so that his followers would both remember his sacrifice and “at the same time thank God for having created the world and all things therein.”[69] For Justin, Christian worship, especially partaking of the Eucharistic meal, recalls the creative acts of God.
Irenaeus of Lyons expounds a similar connection between the Eucharist and the Creation.[70] He teaches that the church offers an oblation to God which is the “first fruits of [God’s] own created things.”[71] Only the organization that Irenaeus designates as the “apostolic church” can offer this pure oblation to the creator. Irenaeus notes that Jews cannot perform this oblation because they have rejected the Word, who created the earth according to John 1. Neither can the heretics offer the oblation, according to Irenaeus, because they deny that Christ had any role in the Creation.[72] (Many of Irenaeus’s Christian rivals taught that the creator of the earth was foolish or evil, so Christ came from a higher deity to save the elect from the inferior creator-god). But, according to Irenaeus, the apostolic church offers a pure sacrifice with bread that is “produced from the earth.”[73] Irenaeus explains further:
And as we are [Christ’s] members, we are also nourished through the Creation (and he himself maintains the Creation for us, for he causes his sun to rise, and sends rain when he desires). He has acknowledged the cup—which is a part of the Creation—as his own blood, from which he enriches our blood; and the bread—also a part of the Creation—he has established as his own body, from which he enriches our bodies.[74]
For Irenaeus, the Eucharist is intimately associated with God’s creation because the cup (i.e., wine) and bread are products of the created order.[75] These components of the Eucharistic meal “nourished” Christians in an ancient setting where hunger was the norm for many people.[76] A central aspect of the Eucharist was satiating the hungry with the goods of creation, enriching and nourishing the health of their bodies.
Eucharistic emphases of creation are found in other early Christian sources as well. For instance, the Gospel of Judas is a second-century document composed by Christians who believed that Jesus was sent to rescue enlightened individuals from the inferior god who created the earth. In this text, when the glorified Jesus finds his disciples celebrating the Eucharist, he laughs at their foolishness because he did not want his disciples celebrating the ritual meal.[77] In fact, the Gospel of Judas narrates how Jesus connects the Eucharist to the creator and creation—only through the (inferior) creator is the Eucharist provided, according to the text. Similarly, the Apostolic Tradition, which is a third- or fourth-century text, links the Eucharist to the Creation, even though the text espouses a very different theology from the Gospel of Judas. The Apostolic Tradition provides an extended account of Eucharistic prayers and refers to Christ as the Word through whom God “created all things.”[78] In this source the creative role of Jesus is directly relevant to the Eucharist.
In sum, a wide array of early Christians associated the Eucharist with the Creation. The verses from Malachi, as well as the satiating function of a meal, contributed to this association. What can Latter-day Saints learn from these notions? One important lesson is that Christ’s spiritual meal connects us to God’s glorious creation of the earth.[79] Even though early Christians knew that the Eucharist was spiritual and symbolic, they still recognized that it was part of the created order. In other words, they did not create a false binary between spiritual and physical. Similarly, Latter-day Saints should seek Christ spiritually, which often takes place through the physical world. President Gordon B. Hinckley articulated well this connection between Christ and creation:
I have looked at majestic mountains rising high against the blue sky and thought of Jesus, the Creator of heaven and earth. I have stood on the sand of an island in the Pacific and watched the dawn rise like thunder—a ball of gold surrounded by clouds of pink and white and purple—and thought of Jesus, the Word by whom all things were made and without whom was not anything made that was made. I have seen a beautiful child—bright-eyed, innocent, loving and trusting—and marveled at the majesty and miracle of creation. . . . This earth is [Christ’s] creation. When we make it ugly, we offend him. Our bodies are the work of our Creator. When we abuse them, we abuse him.[80]
Conclusion
For early Christians, the Eucharist entailed extrospection. Partaking of the shared meal reminded early followers of Jesus that they were part of a larger community. This essay has traced ever-wider communal circles associated with the Eucharist: the ritual meal encouraged connection to intimate partners (Gospel of Philip), to the local congregation (Paul and the Didache), and to the worldwide community of believers (Ignatius, Justin, and Irenaeus). Ultimately, this outward-facing orientation also led Christians to associate the Eucharist with the vast creation, with the ritual banquet connecting Christians to God’s great handiwork. The Eucharistic emphasis on looking outward should remind us that the administration of the sacrament ought to constitute a time of unity with our loved ones, our ward family, the worldwide church, the greater human family, and the Creation itself. Yes, every believer should “examine himself,” as Paul reminded the Corinthians (1 Corinthians 11:28). This introspective component of the sacrament is indispensable, as Latter-day Saints often emphasize. But so is the extrospective component. Paul also encourages the Corinthians that they should remember that as one body they all partake of one loaf of sacramental bread, united in community (10:17).
This communal unity is intimately related to the Eucharistic themes of creation. As Justin Martyr notes, Christians worship God on the first day of the week, the day in which God began his creative project. The celebration of the sacrament on the first day should serve as an invitation to engage in God’s ongoing work. Like Heavenly Father, our work should be to assist our brothers and sisters in gaining eternal life (Moses 1:39).[81] As we look outward, we can connect with creation and its inhabitants; love of creation goes hand in hand with love for one another. In this vein, President Russell M. Nelson taught the following:
As beneficiaries of the divine Creation, what shall we do? We should care for the earth, be wise stewards over it, and preserve it for future generations. And we are to love and care for one another. We are to be creators in our own right—builders of an individual faith in God, faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, and faith in His Church. We are to build families and be sealed in holy temples. We are to build the Church and kingdom of God upon the earth.[82]
Early Christian reflections on the Eucharist invite us to engage in this great work. As we gather to partake of the sacrament, we should not only look inward but also outward. In unity with our brothers and sisters, we partake of one bread and celebrate the Creator’s masterpiece, which is “very good” indeed (Genesis 1:31).
Notes
[1] Jeffrey R. Holland, Christ and the New Covenant: The Messianic Message of the Book of Mormon (Deseret Book, 1997), 283.
[2] Cheryl A. Esplin, “The Sacrament—a Renewal for the Soul,” Ensign, November 2014, 12, www.churchofjesuschrist.org.
[3] Esplin, “Sacrament—a Renewal for the Soul,” 12–13.
[4] “The Sacrament,” chap. 23 in Gospel Principles (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 2011), https://
[5] Jeffrey R. Holland, “This Do in Remembrance of Me,” Ensign, November 1995, 68.
[6] Russell M. Nelson, “Worshiping at Sacrament Meeting,” Liahona, August 2004.
[7] In the earliest non-Christian testimony of the Eucharist, a Roman magistrate named Pliny the Younger (ca. AD 61–113) reported that Christians gather and eat food that is “common and prosaic.” Pliny, Letter 10.96, author’s translation (for the Latin text, see Betty Radice, trans., Pliny the Younger, Letters, vol. 2, Books 8–10, Panegyricus, vol. 59 of the Loeb Classical Library [Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1969], 288). “Although contemporary Westerners may struggle to imagine bread and wine alone as a complete meal, these are precisely the elements ancient eaters would have expected for everyday fare. What was unusual was their use—or at least the use of bread, but not other foods—as central to such formal meals.” Andrew McGowan, Ancient Christian Worship: Early Church Practices in Social, Historical, and Theological Perspective (Baker Academic, 2014), 41.
[8] See Andrew McGowan, “Feast as Fast: Asceticism and Early Eucharistic Practice,” in The Eucharist—Its Origins and Contexts, ed. David Hellholm and Dieter Sänger, vol. 376 of Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament (Mohr Siebeck, 2017), 838–40.
[9] See Andrew McGowan, “Changing Courses: Eucharistic Origins,” Forum: Journal of the Westar Institute 8, no. 2 (2019): 141–45; and McGowan, Ancient Christian Worship, 60.
[10] Dennis E. Smith, From Symposium to Eucharist: The Banquet in the Early Christian World (Fortress, 2003), 1–2.
[11] Smith, Symposium to Eucharist, 2.
[12] See Plutarch, Table Talk 710B–713F. Greek text in Edwin L. Minar Jr., F. H. Sandback, and W. C. Helmbold, trans., Plutarch, Moralia, vol. 9, Table-Talk, Books 7–9, Dialogue on Love, vol. 425 of Loeb Classical Library ( Harvard University Press, 1961), 72–90.
[13] Smith, Symposium to Eucharist, 3; andRichard S. Ascough, “Communal Meals,” in The Oxford Handbook of Early Christian Ritual, ed. Risto Uro et al. (Oxford University Press, 2018), 207.
[14] For the influence of the Roman banquet on various strata of society, see Katherine M. D. Dunbabin, The Roman Banquet: Images of Conviviality (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003). For the likely humble setting of Jesus’s Last Supper, see Matthew J. Grey, “‘Where May I Eat the Passover with My Disciples?’: Reassessing the Urban Setting, Furnished Room, and Dining Practices of Jesus’s Last Supper,” in Pushing Sacred Boundaries in Early Judaism and the Ancient Mediterranean: Essays in Honor of Jodi Magness, ed. Dennis Mizzi et al., vol. 208 of Supplements to the Journal of the Study of Judaism (Brill, 2023), 55–99.
[15] Smith, Symposium to Eucharist, 2.
[16] Jonathan Brumberg-Kraus et al., “Ten Theses Concerning Meals and Early Judaism,” in Meals in Early Judaism: Social Formation at the Table, ed. Susan Marks and Hal Taussig (Palgrave Macmillan, 2014), 13–39.
[17] Vojtěch Kaše, “Meal Practices,” in Uro et al. Oxford Handbook of Early Christian Ritual, 409.
[18] “The recent acknowledgement of the ubiquity and centrality of an ancient Mediterranean meal tradition—the ‘symposium,’ in broad terms—implies that much previous scholarship had been asking some wrong questions when wrangling over eucharistic origins. A ritual meal was not a peculiar form of religious or communal practice, but far the most obvious way for the earliest Christ-followers to gather. This means that, in one sense, the Eucharist did not need to be ‘instituted’ by Jesus or anyone else; rather the Christian movement had to adapt existing traditions and practices in a way that would have been expected of any group bound by common interest.” McGowan, “Changing Courses,” 134.
[19] “One should note that the term ‘seder’ is not a classical rabbinic term, and has not been used to denote the ritual meal before the medieval period. . . . One may assume that in Roman and Byzantine Palestine, Jews who did not identify with the rabbis and their way of life would not have celebrated a seder.” David Kraemer, “Food, Eating, and Meals,” in The Oxford Handbook of Jewish Daily Life in Roman Palestine, ed. Catherine Hezser (Oxford University Press, 2010), 414–15.
[20] Kaše, “Meal Practices,” 409–10. See Kraemer, “Food, Eating, and Meals,” 413–18. Joel Marcus, in “Passover and Last Supper Revisited,” New Testament Studies 59, no. 3 (2013): 303–24, sees some elements of the meal in second temple sources.
[21] “Evidence shows that all records of the Passover celebration before the destruction of the Temple in 70 CE portray a meal, organized around the Passover sacrifice, that includes songs of praise, and perhaps wine. There is not yet any hint of an elaborate meal ritual that builds on the manipulation and symbolic meanings of a variety of foodstuffs (outside of the lamb itself, along with matzah and bitter herbs, as required by the Torah [Exod. 12:8]), nor is there any suggestion of narrative recitations of the redemptive event. All evidence points to the fact that the seder, as such, is an invention of the rabbis, the first record of which is found in Mishnah Pesahim chapter 10.” Kraemer, “Food, Eating, and Meals,” 414.
[22] Paul F. Bradshaw, The Search for the Origins of Christian Worship (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 63–65.
[23] Lukas Bormann, “Das Abendmahl: Kulturanthropologische, kognitionswissenschaftliche und ritualwissenschaftliche Perspektiven,” in Hellholm and Sänger, Eucharist—Its Origins and Contexts, 697–732.
[24] Patrick Faas, Around the Roman Table: Food and Feasting in Ancient Rome (University of Chicago Press, 2005), 53.
[25] Though diners often differed in their ethnicity, occupation, or other social distinctions, the banquet unified them in a shared configuration. Hal Taussig, In the Beginning Was the Meal: Social Experimentation and Early Christian Identity (Fortress, 2009), 69. Note that in John’s account of Christ’s last meal (John 13), Jesus washes the disciples’ feet long after they have entered the house. In this case Christ employs the ritual to establish a group of insiders that is supposed to extend well beyond the dinner.
[26] Mark D. Ellison, “Connecting with Christ: Rituals and Worship,” in Ancient Christians: An Introduction for Latter-day Saints, ed. Jason R. Combs et al. (Neal A. Maxwell Institute for Religious Scholarship, 2022), 223.
[27] Katherine M. D. Dunbabin and William J. Slater, “Roman Dining,” in The Oxford Handbook of Social Relations in the Roman World, ed. Michael Peachin (Oxford University Press, 2011), 438–66.
[28] Author’s emphasis and translation. Plutarch, Table Talk 643A. Greek text in Paul A. Clement and Herbert B. Hoffleit, trans., Plutarch, Moralia, vol. 8, Table-Talk, Books 1–6, vol. 424 of the Loeb Classical Library Series (Harvard University Press, 1969), 184.
[29] Peter Lampe, From Paul to Valentinus: Christians at Rome in the First Two Centuries (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003), 357–408.
[30] Einar Thomassen, “Orthodoxy and Heresy in Second-Century Rome,” Harvard Theological Review 97, no. 3 (2004): 241–56.
[31] See Bart D. Ehrman, Lost Christianities: The Battles for Scripture and the Faiths We Never Knew (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003); and Paula Fredriksen, Ancient Christianities: The First Five Hundred Years (Princeton University Press, 2024).
[32] Lizette Larson-Miller, “Eucharistic Practices,” in Uro et al., Oxford Handbook of Early Christian Ritual, 539.
[33] Kaše, “Meal Practices,” 415; Paul F. Bradshaw, Eucharistic Origins (Oxford University Press, 2004), 139; andLarson-Miller, “Eucharistic Practices,” 542.
[34] There wasn’t one simple meaning for the Eucharist, just as there wasn’t one simple meaning for a banquet. McGowan, Ancient Christian Worship, 62–63.
[35] See especially Jerker Blomqvist and Karin Blomqvist, “Eucharist Terminology in Early Christian Literature: Philological and Semantic Aspects,” in Hellholm and Sänger, Eucharist—Its Origins and Contexts, 389–421. For a host of Eucharistic designations used by Tertullian alone, see Øyvind Noerderval, “The Eucharist in Tertullian and Cyprian,” in Hellholm and Sänger, Eucharist—Its Origins and Contexts, 942. For a number of terms employed by Origen, see Gunnar af Hällström, “A Spiritual Meal for Spiritual People: The Eucharist in the Theology of Clement and Origen of Alexandria,” in Hellholm and Sänger, Eucharist—Its Origins and Contexts, 996–97.
[36] McGowan, Ancient Christian Worship, 26.
[37] Making a similar argument, one scholar points out that in the Markan and Matthean accounts of the Last Supper, the word this (touto) is neuter in Greek, whereas bread (artos) is masculine. Thus, the this cannot refer simply to the bread, but to the broader action of the community coming together to take the symbolic food. Matthias Klinghardt, “Gemeindeleib und Mahlritual: Sōma in den paulinischen Mahltexten,” Zeitschrift für Neues Testament 27 (2011): 51–56.
[38] On worship in the New Testament, see Erik Odin Yingling, “Worship and Ritual Practices in the New Testament,” in New Testament History, Culture, and Society: A Background to the Texts of the New Testament, ed. Lincoln Blumell (Deseret Book, 2019), 586–602.
[39] One scholar argues that for Paul the Eucharist was more community oriented than baptism. Hermut Löhr, “Vom Gemeinschaftsmahl zur Mahl-Gemeinschaft,” in Hellholm and Sänger, Eucharist—Its Origins and Contexts, 625–44.
[40] Clayton N. Jefford, Didache: The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles (Polebridge, 2013). For more on the Eucharist in this work, see Johannes Betz, “The Eucharist in the Didache,” in The Didache in Modern Research, ed. Jonathan Draper (Brill, 1996), 244–75.
[41] Hans Lietzmann, Messe und Herrenmahl: Eine Studie zur Geschichte der Liturgie (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1967), 230; Paul F. Bradshaw, Reconstructing Early Christian Worship (Liturgical Press, 2010), 5; andKaše, “Meal Practices,” 415. Contrary to other scholarly opinions, Blomqvist and Blomqvist, in “Eucharist Terminology in Early Christian Literature,” 421, assume that the letters of Ignatius are earlier than the Didache and represent the first known instance of the term Eucharist.
[42] Didache 9.4 (my translation), Greek text in Michael W. Holmes, The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations, 3rd ed. (Baker Academic, 2007), 358.
[43] Didache 10.6 (my translation), Greek text in Holmes, Apostolic Fathers, 360.
[44] Didache 9.2 (my translation), Greek text in Holmes, Apostolic Fathers, 358. See Betz, “Eucharist in the Didache,” 244–75.
[45] The Didache depicts the Christian meal as the exclusive repast of the faithful and calls the Eucharist a “sacrifice.” This notion recalls the Israelite priests in the ancient Jerusalem temple who were the exclusive partakers of sacrificed meat. Didache 14.1–3, Greek text in Holmes, Apostolic Fathers, 366. See Jonathan A. Draper, “Pure Sacrifice in Didache 14 as Jewish Christian Exegesis,” Neotestamentica 42, no. 2 (2008): 223–52; and Andrew McGowan, “Eucharist and Sacrifice: Cultic Tradition and Transformation in Early Christian Ritual Meals,” in Mahl und religiöse Identität im frühen Christentum, ed. Matthias Klinghardt and Hal Taussig, vol. 56 of Texte und Arbeiten zum neuentestamentlichen Zeitalter (Francke, 2012), 191–206.
[46] Didache 10.5 (my translation), Greek text in Holmes, Apostolic Fathers, 360.
[47] On the Eucharist in Ignatius, see Lothar Wehr, “Die Eucharistie in den Briefen des Ignatius von Antiochien,” in Hellholm and Sänger, Eucharist—Its Origins and Contexts, 883–900.
[48] Ignatius, Philadelphians 4 (my translation), Greek text in Holmes, Apostolic Fathers, 238.
[49] Ignatius, Ephesians 20 (my translation), Greek text in Holmes, Apostolic Fathers, 198.
[50] The definitive work on the sacrament in the Gospel of Philip is Herbert Schmid, Die Eucharistie ist Jesus: Anfänge einer Theorie des Sakraments im koptischen Philippusevangelium (NHC II 3), vol. 88 of Vigiliae Christianae, Supplements (Brill, 2007).
[51] The work contains miscellaneous material associated with various early Christian traditions, as well as a number of references to Christian rituals. See Madeleine Scopello and Marvin Meyer, “The Gospel of Philip,” in The Nag Hammadi Scriptures: The Revised and Updated Translation of Sacred Gnostic Texts, Complete in One Volume, ed. Marvin Meyer (Harper Collins, 2007), 157–60.
[52] Gospel of Philip 58,10–14 (my translation), Coptic text in Geoffrey S. Smith, Valentinian Christianity: Texts and Translations (University of California Press, 2020), 262.
[53] For an overview of the bridal chamber, see Gaye Strathearn, “The Valentinian Bridal Chamber in the Gospel of Philip,” Studies in the Bible and Antiquity 1 (2009): 83–103.
[54] Einar Thomassen, “The Eucharist in Valentinianism,” in Hellholm and Sänger, Eucharist—Its Origins and Contexts, 1837.
[55] Thomassen, “Eucharist,” 1837.
[56] Thomassen, “Eucharist,” 1837.
[57] Strathearn, “Valentinian Bridal Chamber,” 83–84, 85, 97, 103.
[58] My translation.
[59] Didache 14.3 (my translation), Greek text in Holmes, Apostolic Fathers, 366.
[60] See especially Justin Martyr, Dialogue with Trypho 41 and 117.
[61] Irenaeus of Lyon, Against Heresies 4.17.5.
[62] See Matthew S. C. Olver, “Malachi’s Material Foundation: The Scriptural Heart of Early Christian Eucharistic Theology,” forthcoming in Studia Patristica. Olver argues that Malachi 1:10–11 was the central text for the earliest Eucharistic anaphoras. This passage was the institutional basis for the ritual, not the “words of institution” from the Gospels with which we are familiar.
[63] See Olver, “Malachi’s Material Foundation.”
[64] Didache 10.3 (my translation), Greek text in Holmes, Apostolic Fathers, 358.
[65] Justin, First Apology 65.3 (my translation), Greek text in Denis Minns and Paul Parvis, eds. and trans., Justin, Philosopher and Martyr: Apologies, Oxford Early Christian Texts (Oxford University Press, 2009), 252–54.
[66] Colin Buchanan, Justin Martyr on Baptism and Eucharist: Texts in Translation with Introduction and Commentary, vol. 64 of Joint Liturgical Studies (SCM-Canterbury, 2007), 5.
[67] Justin, First Apology 67.3–5, translation based on Minns and Parvis, Justin, 259–61; Greek text in Minns and Parvis, Justin, 258–60.
[68] Justin, First Apology 67.8 (my translation), Greek text in Minns and Parvis, Justin, 260.
[69] Justin, Dialogue with Trypho 41 (my translation), Greek text in Miroslav Marcovich, ed., Iustini Martyris: Dialogus cum Tryphone (De Gruyter, 1997), 137–38.
[70] For more about Justin and Irenaeus on the Eucharist, see Andreas Lindemann, “Die eucharistische Mahlfeier bei Justin und bei Irenäus,” in Hellholm and Sänger, Eucharist—Its Origins and Contexts, 901–34.
[71] Irenaeus of Lyons, Against Heresies 4.18.4 (my translation), Latin text in Adelin Rousseau, Irénée de Lyon: Contre les hérésies. Livre IV, vol. 1, Sources Chrétiennes 100 (Cerf, 1965), 606.
[72] Irenaeus of Lyons, Against Heresies 4.18.4, Latin text in Rousseau, Contre les hérésies, Livre IV, vol. 1, 608.
[73] Irenaeus of Lyons, Against Heresies 4.18.5 (my translation), Latin text in Rousseau, Contre les hérésies, Livre IV, vol. 1, 610.
[74] Irenaeus of Lyons, Against Heresies 5.2.2 (my translation), Latin text in Adelin Rousseau, Irénée de Lyon: Contre les hérésies, Livre V, vol. 2, Sources Chrétiennes 153 (Cerf, 1969), 32.
[75] “Cup” (ποτήριον) in this instance stands by metonymy for the wine it contains. Walter Bauer et al., A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature, ed. Frederick William Danker, 3rd ed.(University of Chicago Press, 2000), 760.
[76] See Didache 10.1; and McGowan, “Changing Courses,” 139.
[77] Gospel of Judas 33.23–34.11, Coptic text in Rodolphe Kasser and Gregor Wurst, The Gospel of Judas; Together with the Letter of Peter to Philip, James, and a Book of Allogenes from Codex Tchacos: Critical Edition (National Geographic, 2007), 185–87.
[78] Apostolic Tradition 4.5 (my translation), Latin text in Bernard Botte, Hyppolyte de Rome: La Tradition apostolique, 2nd ed., Sources Chrétiennes 11 (Cerf, 1969), 48. The Apostolic Tradition is the first extant source to feature the Last Supper story in prayers over the bread and cup.
[79] Additionally, God “blessed” and “sanctified” the sabbath day at the end of creation (Genesis 2:3), just as the priest petitions God to “bless and sanctify” the sacramental bread and water in the sacrament prayer (Doctrine and Covenants 20:77, 79). I appreciate the anonymous reviewer of this article for bringing this observation to my attention.
[80] Gordon B. Hinckley, “What Shall I Do Then with Jesus Which Is Called Christ?,” Ensign, December 1983, www.churchofjesuschrist.org.
[81] “Heavenly Father is able to accomplish these two great goals—the immortality and eternal life of man—because He is a God of creation and compassion. Creating and being compassionate are two objectives that contribute to our Heavenly Father’s perfect happiness. Creating and being compassionate are two activities that we as His spirit children can and should emulate.” Dieter F. Uchtdorf, “Happiness, Your Heritage,” General Relief Society Meeting, October 2008, www.churchofjesuschrist.org.
[82] Russell M. Nelson, “The Creation,” Ensign, May 2000, 86.