For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes (1 Cor 11:26).
There are liturgical churches that put great stock in the real presence. If you don’t believe in the real presence, you are said to reduce the sacraments to “mere signs” or “nude signs.”
Let’s talk about signs for a moment. The camera is a wildly popular invention. It’s become even more popular in the age of digital cameras, cellphone cameras, and Facebook.
Why do people like to take pictures? Well, there are different reasons. Some people are just narcissistic.
But there are other, better reasons. As timebound, spacebound creatures, we take pictures to make a particular place or moment available. If we take a trip to a scenic locale, we may take pictures so that when we’re no longer there, we can still see it. It’s not as good as being there, but it’s better than nothing.
When a husband is away at work, he may have pictures of his wife and kids on the desk. It’s a reminder of what he looks forward to when he gets off work and returns home.
Likewise, once an event is past, you can’t go back in time and see it again. So we take pictures to preserve the past. To make the past a bit more accessible in the present.
That’s one reason parents take pictures of their kids when they are kids. Kids grow up.
Sometimes pictures can assume an added significance. When your mother or father was still alive, having their picture may not mean as much to you as long as you can see them whenever you want to. But after they are gone, that picture may suddenly mean a lot more to you. You don’t have them in your life any more. You may have letters. And memories. And pictures. A picture may be the next best thing to having them. It’s a poor substitute for having them with you, but that’s what makes death so desolating.
Likewise, parents don’t always outlive their kids. Sometimes their child dies of cancer or cystic fibrosis, or dies in a traffic accident.
Imagine going into the home of a parent who lost a child. You see pictures on the mantle. Imagine saying, “But they’re just pictures!”
Well, in a sense that’s true. And you’re not telling the parent anything he or she doesn’t already know. Painfully so. Acutely so. But that would be a pretty callous thing to say.
Yes, they’re just pictures, but that’s all the forlorn mother or has left. It’s not much, but it’s better than total absence. It helps them retain some sense of connection with the child they lost. Those pictures are very precious. Mental images can fade.
In addition, when we’re dealing with Christians, where there’s the hope of reunion in the world to come, those pictures aren’t simply a memento of the past, but a token of God’s promised restoration.
And that’s like what Paul says about communion in the passage I quoted. Communion is a ritual depiction that’s both prospective and retrospective. A commemoration of the Cross as well as a preview of the Second Coming.
Yes, it’s just a sign, but then, you might say the same thing about a picture of your late mother or father or grandmother whom you hope to see again in heaven.