The Last Supper has been the subject of much attention throughout the history of Christianity. More books and commentaries have been written about the Last Supper with the possible exception of Jesus’ birth and crucifixion.
The Last Supper has also been one of the most widely portrayed events in art.
There are mosaics and paintings of the Last Supper found on the floors of early Christian churches and catacombs. These often showed the disciples seated around Jesus on the same side of a long table with the exception of Judas who was seated alone on the other side of the table with his back to the viewer. Everyone seated at table had haloes around their heads signifying holiness and sanctity. All, that is, except Judas.
Additionally, these early artistic renditions showed baskets of loaves and fish on the table leading scholars to believe that fish and loaves were the original Eucharistic symbols. It wasn’t until a century or two later, that the cup was added to the table setting and the fish removed.
Leonardo Da Vinci was one of the first prominent artists to change this. He seated everyone on the same side of the table including Judas. Judas was shown reaching for a morsel of bread. He portrayed the moment when Jesus announced his betrayal. Of course, we are all aware of how much can be read into Da Vinci’s painting judging from movies and books about it.
More contemporary renditions of the Last Supper include men and women sitting around the table. Another rendition shows Jesus washing the disciples feet at table.
A fascinating version of the Last Supper shows plates arranged on a table—each plate representing someone who was executed in Texas’ death row. Each plate has their name on it and a picture of what their last meal was. One plate shows banana, oranges and a salad. That was the last meal of a woman who was executed some years ago.
In reality, the scene was probably different from what most have envisioned Most scholars believe that the table would have been a triclinium—that is—three sided table-- with people reclining on their left shoulder and eating with their right hand. As for where everyone was seated, we haven’t a clue. The only thing we might surmise is John, the Beloved Disciple, must have been to the right of Jesus since he was said to be “reclining against Jesus chest.”
That’s about all we know of that event or how it probably looked.
Suffice it to say that the Last Supper has been portrayed in many different fashions—each containing some message that the artist wishes to convey.
If you were to paint a picture of the Last Supper, what would it be like?
What would your table look like? Would it be round, square, or rectangular? Where would you seat Jesus? Would you seat him in the middle? Perhaps at the head of the table? Perhaps Jesus would not be seated but serving the meal.
Who would you put around the table? The Apostles? Would you include some of the women disciples? Perhaps some of the people Jesus healed? Maybe you might put one of the religious leaders there as well.
In your version of the Last Supper would everyone look the same? Or would they be different? Different colors? Different ethnicities? Different professions? Would those be seated at your Last Supper be dressed nicely or casually? Would they be smiling or serious? Would Jesus be smiling? Would you put a halo around each person’s head? Or just Jesus? Would saints or sinners be seated at your Last Supper?
What an interesting exercise this would be for us—to put our own stamp on the Last Supper. It would reveal much about our view of church and how we would understand the invitation of Jesus to come to the table.
But would our illustration of the Last Supper bear any resemblance to what we do here every Sunday or this evening? Would it be possible for us to capture, in one portrait, the essence of our own Eucharistic gatherings?
If we look closely at our own table fellowship on Sundays and even this evening we will notice that it looks quite different from our impression of the Last supper.
The most obvious thing we see is that we are certainly a diverse looking group who gather at this table. We are a patchwork of different colors, sizes and shapes. We are young and not-so-young. We are the well-dressed and, well…shall we say…Caifornia casual. We are from among the rich, the middle-class and the poor and we come with varying degrees of education and skills. Some who come to this table are married; others are single; engaged; widowed, divorced or separated. Some have infants in their arms while others have children who already tower over them.
If we look even more closely at those who come to the table of the Eucharist, we will see that many are smiling. But not all. Among us there are those who are tearful, hurting, sad, filled with pain, anxious, doubtful, and confused.
Were we able to look at each other’s hearts, we would find even greater diversity. Some are secure in their faith; others not so secure. Some come forward knowing that they will be here again; others may come forward not so certain whether they will be back next week. Some believe. Others may be on the verge of unbelief. There are those among us who have little doubt that Jesus is present. And there are some who aren’t so sure. Some feel welcomed and worthy to participate; others may feel stigmatized for some reason and may be dealing with feelings of unworthiness. Some of us might feel that we have a halo around our head. Others may feel like the betrayer himself.
So, you see, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to capture what the Lord’s Supper really looks like at the parish level. There are simply too many variables. No canvas could possibly contain the reality of the Eucharistic meal as we practice it here. And that is a good thing because the Eucharistic meal—the Last Supper we share in—is not picture perfect.
In fact, I would suggest that if we were to portray the Eucharistic meal that we know and experience, there would be only one thing we could really be certain of. That is the presence of Jesus at the table. And in front of Jesus would be the one bread and the one cup. And if we were to put a caption to this scene we might simply have Jesus saying, “Come, eat and drink.”-- an open invitation to share in his very presence.
Then around him at table would be countless numbers of seats waiting to be filled. That’s all we would need to show in our own representation of the Lord’s Supper. The rest of the picture would have to allow for any number and type of people to take up the invitation and to be seated at the table. The invitation is extended to all who wish to participate in the Body and Blood of Christ.
And, one more thing. I would hope that in your picture of the Eucharistic meal would include one other person. Yourself. I would hope that you would seat yourself next to Jesus—reclining, perhaps, close to his heart. . After all, you are here this evening. As Jesus’ beloved disciple, each of you is worthy of a seat closest to him.