Close, closed, close[d] Communion: Three words, one meaning

Matthew Harrison

5 days ago

By Matthew C. Harrison

There are three simple but main points to closed Communion:

Concern that the recipients know “what they seek” and “why they come” (Luther’s Large Catechism, “Of the Sacrament of the Altar”), and therefore receive Christ’s body and blood for their benefit (forgiveness), not harm (1 Cor. 11).
The New Testament requires unity in doctrine and doctrinal practice (1 Cor. 1:10, etc.).
There are exceptional cases that require pastoral discretion.

Not too long ago, a pastor told me a humorous story about his “theological interview” as he was about to finish seminary training in the mid-1980s. This was done before the faculty certified a student for a call to a parish. One professor asked him, “What is closed Communion?” The pastor told me that, after that, “the three profs argued among themselves for the rest of the time.”

The Rev. Dr. F.A.O. Pieper (professor at Concordia Seminary, St. Louis [CSL], 1878–1931; CSL president, 1887–1931; president of The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod, 1899–1911) wrote the main theological, doctrinal textbook used since the 1920s and even today in our seminaries. He wrote in German about closed Communion but added English to be very clear in the American context.

“Die apostolische Kirche praktiziert nicht ‘open’ sondern ‘closed’ communion,” Pieper wrote, which means, “The apostolic church practiced not ‘open’ but ‘closed’ Communion.” By the time the text was published in English in the mid-1950s, the editor had changed the word “closed” to “close,” evidently thinking that the word “close” was a gentler way to express the practice.

The term “closed” had come from the ancient church practice of the deacon crying out, “The doors, the doors,” which were closed to the unbaptized and those undergoing instruction before being admitted to Communion. “Close” came particularly from Baptist sources, albeit depicting another truth: that there is a closeness in belief among those who commune.

The New Testament and Lutheran view is derived from the word koinonia, or “communion,” which means having something in common. In this case, we Christians share Christ and His gifts — gifts that make us one in Him. Where Christ and His teaching are rejected, there is no communion. We Lutherans firmly believe, though, that there are millions upon millions of Christians who believe — sometimes against the public teaching of their own church bodies — that Jesus died for their sins, and that they trust in Him by faith alone for eternal life.

As the Synod faced challenges that grew out of the American context, the move to English, and the rise of historical criticism, our theological terminology underwent various influences, nuances and changes. A certain mythology of meaning was ascribed to terms like “closed Communion” and “close Communion,” and a term was invented to try to speak into the confusion: “close(d) Communion.” In some minds “closed” meant communing only members of one’s own congregation, while “close” meant communing only the baptized (including other denominations), or perhaps those who agree on the “real presence.” Neither the Bible, the Lutheran Confessions or any resolutions of the LCMS support these ideas.

In fact, the Synod in convention has spoken very clearly to this issue on many occasions, including in 2023, when it adopted Res. 5-09 (“To Review Guidance on Admission to the Lord’s Supper”) by 88.9%. Included in the resolution is a resolved stating that the words “close,” “closed” and “close(d)” all mean the same thing, despite the accretions of attributed meaning. The Synod’s public confession on this matter has remained the same from its first president, the Rev. Dr. C.F.W. Walther, to Dr. Pieper, to today.

For the forgiveness of sins

Allow me to elaborate three brief points upon which our public doctrine and practice are based.

First, I think we all agree with Paul’s clear words:

“Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty concerning the body and blood of the Lord. Let a person examine himself, then, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment on himself” (1 Cor. 11:27–29).

None of us wants a person to take the Sacrament to his detriment. That’s why so many Communion statements make as clear as possible that we believe that the very body and blood of Christ — the same body and blood that hung on the cross — is actually present in the Sacrament. “It is the true body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ under the bread and wine, instituted by Christ Himself for us Christians to eat and to drink” (Luther’s Small Catechism, “The Sacrament of the Altar”). We believe and teach exactly what Jesus says: “This is my body. … This is my blood.” All this “for the forgiveness of sins.”

May Christians who belong to another denomination (which may even publicly reject these very cardinal truths about the Sacrament), but who recognize their need for forgiveness, believe that Christ died for their sins and believe His words “Take, eat, this is my body” receive the Sacrament at our altars to their benefit? Yes.

Second, there is more behind the practice. The New Testament rejects participation in false teaching over and over again. It also demands unity of believers in the truth and separation from false teaching and erring fellowships. This is hard for us. We are American individualists. No church or pastor is going to tell me what’s what in my personal relationship with Jesus!

While each communicant has the personal accountability of repenting and believing what the Lord gives (His body and blood) for forgiveness, pastors have a responsibility too. St. Paul calls pastors “stewards of the mysteries of God” (1 Cor. 4:1). Luther put Hebrews 13:17 in the catechism: “Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they are keeping watch over your souls, as those who will have to give an account. Let them do this with joy and not with groaning, for that would be of no advantage to you.” And the Preface to our Book of Concord very clearly states that we believe there are Christians outside the Lutheran church who may not have come to agreement with us on all doctrinal points. The Augsburg Confession states that sacraments are “marks of profession among men.”

Third, there are cases of pastoral discretion. All of our Synod resolutions on the subject grant this. Life throws all kinds of strange, unique and interesting situations at us. Pastors make judgment calls for the spiritual benefit of persons involved.

A few years back a friend of my wife shared that her lapsed Roman Catholic husband was given only weeks to live. I visited him. He was in bad shape. I spoke very pointedly to him about his spiritual condition. He received and believed the Gospel when I told him what Luther told his friend, “Christ dwells only in sinners.” I added, “You’d better be one.”

He confessed his sins, and I absolved him. I asked him if he believed what he had been taught as a Catholic, that the bread and wine are the body and blood. He said yes. I asked if he believed Jesus when He said, “Take, eat. … Take, drink. … Given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.” He said yes. I communed him. Guess what? He then proceeded to get better! I began taking him through the catechism, the senior pastor finished up, and he was confirmed before dying a year or so later. Thanks be to God.

The Apology of the Augsburg Confession (XI 66) says that our pastors are “good men” who will know what to do in such situations. Our pastors are good men. Bulletin statements that teach the truth about what the Sacrament is and why we take it are very good.

But inviting all who believe such statements, without regard to their church membership or lack thereof, is not pastoral discretion. At a minimum, such statements should add, “Please speak to the pastor” (or perhaps a trained elder) before communing, or maybe, “If you would like to speak with the pastor, please call the church office during the week.” Inviting people to come to the rail, cross arms and receive a blessing is a fine, welcoming alternative. It’s what we do at my parish. Ironically, not communing everyone is a great way to initiate spiritual conversations with individuals, conversations that often lead to a catechism class. In this day and age, many are looking for churches that stand for something. That includes at the Communion rail.

For the forgiveness of sins

Further reading