What Diminishes the Lord’s Supper

Many believers approach the Lord’s Table with a familiar posture: bowed heads, closed eyes, and heavy hearts. For years, I did the same. I believed that the most “worthy” way to partake of the bread and cup was through deep introspection searching for any hidden sin, grieving my failures, and attempting to feel the appropriate level of sorrow.

But in trying to take Communion seriously, I missed something essential. I confused solemnity with spirituality. I brought heaviness without hope, weight without wonder. And in doing so, I didn’t honor the table. I spoiled it.

The Warning We Often Misread

There’s no question that the Bible warns us about approaching the Lord’s Supper in an “unworthy manner.” Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 11:27–30 are sobering. He recounts how some in the Corinthian church faced illness and even death because they dishonored the meal.

But what exactly were they doing wrong?

They weren’t merely failing to be introspective. They were dividing the body flaunting their wealth, hoarding food, ignoring the poor, and turning the Lord’s Supper into a private feast. Paul says plainly: “Each one goes ahead with his own meal… One goes hungry, another gets drunk” (1 Corinthians 11:21). In doing so, they despised the church (v. 22) and disrespected the Savior who died to make them one.

In other words, what spoiled the Supper was not a failure of emotion but a failure of love.

How Gravity Goes Wrong

It’s right to feel a weightiness at the table. This meal recalls the cost of our salvation the broken body and shed blood of Jesus. But when gravity becomes gloom, we miss the point.

For years, my approach to the Supper looked more like a funeral than a feast. I thought I was honoring Christ by bowing low, eyes fixed on the floor, wrestling with guilt. But the result was a table centered on my feelings rather than God’s grace.

What was missing? Joy. Awe. Gratitude. Communion.

What the Supper Is Meant to Be

The Lord’s Supper was never meant to be an exercise in spiritual sulking. It’s a feast of thanksgiving literally. The Greek word eucharisteo, from which we get “Eucharist,” means to give thanks. Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread and gave thanks (1 Corinthians 11:24).

The early church understood this. Communion was a celebration of grace of the Lamb who was slain, the sins that were forgiven, the family that was formed. That’s why the Supper is always communal. We eat together (1 Corinthians 10:17), proclaiming not only Christ’s death but also our shared hope: “until he comes” (1 Corinthians 11:26).

The table is not a reward for the righteous; it is nourishment for sinners made righteous by grace.

Getting Ready to Feast

Self-examination still has a place. We should not come to the table flippantly. But the purpose of examining ourselves is to confess sin and turn to Christ not to dwell endlessly on guilt. That’s why many churches include a time of confession and assurance earlier in the service. By the time we reach the table, we come not crawling in shame but walking in the confidence of forgiveness.

When the prodigal son returned home, his father didn’t make him spend a week in the servant’s quarters reflecting on his rebellion. He ran to him, kissed him, robed him, and threw a feast. And when the meal began, the son didn’t sit in the corner muttering about pigsties. He rejoiced. He belonged.

So do you.

A Family Meal

The Lord’s Supper is not just personal; it’s profoundly corporate. This is not a moment for silent individualism. It’s a family gathering.

Paul reminds us that we all partake of one loaf because we are one body (1 Corinthians 10:17). That means we should notice each other. Smile at the saint beside you. Remember that the person next to you is another prodigal brought home by grace. This is a table of fellowship koinonia with Christ and with one another.

We dishonor the Supper when we reduce it to “me and Jesus” moments. We honor it when we eat and drink as grateful sons and daughters, together.

What Makes the Meal Worthy

So, what spoils the Lord’s Supper?

Not singing with joy. Not making eye contact. Not being aware of others.

What spoils it is selfishness, division, and disregard for the body Christ’s and the church’s. What spoils it is treating it like a private snack rather than a sacred celebration. What spoils it is forgetting that this is the meal of the forgiven, the feast of the family of God.

To come in a “worthy manner” is not to come flawless, but faithful. It is to come, broken yet believing, humble yet hopeful, empty-handed yet eager.

Full Hearts at the Table

Next time you approach the table, remember the music is playing and the feast is ready. The Father isn’t calling you to sulk—He’s inviting you to celebrate. Christ is not re-crucified at the table; He is honored as risen, reigning, and returning.

So come with gravity and gladness. Confess your sin, yes. But then rejoice. Lift your eyes. Look around. Let your heart be full. Because Jesus said, “This is my body, which is for you” (1 Corinthians 11:24).

For you.

If this reoriented your view of the Lord’s Supper, share this article or subscribe to our newsletter for updates with someone who needs the joy of coming back to the table.