For their 50th anniversary, my parents flew the whole family—all 18 of us— to Greece for a lavish, once-in-a-lifetime vacation. One night at the foot of the Acropolis was dedicated as the “anniversary dinner,” and everyone looked forward to the celebration in honor of my parents and their exemplary marriage. I can’t imagine deciding to pass on the invitation. Nor can I imagine that if there were a conflict with my siblings, I’d allow it to ruin the evening. But sadly, the modern church often neglects the great invitation it has to a lavish dinner or ruins it with division. For all their failures, the assembly at Corinth still regularly met to obey Christ’s command to “do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:19) by sharing a meal in which they fellowshiped with the Lord himself (1 Cor. 10:16–17). The New Testament refers to this practice with various names, such as the “love feast” in Jude 12 and “the breaking of bread” in Acts 2:42. But Paul describes the practice in 1 Corinthians 11:20 with a well-chosen expression that raises the stakes of its importance and sarcastically critiques the Corinthians: “the Lordly Supper” (kyriakon deipnon). Paul argues that whatever the Corinthians were doing, it did not constitute this “Lordly supper,” and by missing it, they came together as a church for the worse instead of the better (v. 17). With so much at stake, it’s worth thinking about what disqualified their religious communal meal from being “Lordly.” Paul’s use of this expression offers two correctives that have been needed throughout history and continue to be needed today: against apathy and against elitism. Against Apathy English translations usually have “the Lord’s Supper” in 1 Corinthians 11:20 as if “Lord” were a possessive noun (ESV, NIV, CSB, NASB, etc.). While this makes for the most natural reading in English, the word is an adjective that does not quite function as a possessive like we find, for example, in “the Lord’s death” in verse 26 or “the cup of the Lord” in verse 27. Instead, the word translated “Lord’s” in verse 20 is surprisingly rare, used only here and in Revelation 1:10. From inscriptions and secular usage, the lexicon by Moulton and Milligan prefers “imperial” (so also Brill Dictionary of Ancient Greek; Liddell, Scott, and Jones; Lampe). I like the idea of translating this as “the imperial supper,” as it would grab our attention to the word’s uniqueness. Depicting this practice as imperial would have brought to mind images of elaborate feasts or symposiums in which only the most important and exalted could participate (see Luke 14:7–11). Yet the word looks similar to “Lord,” so “Lordly” might be the best option. It would not only communicate an imperial idea but also relay its obvious proximity with the word “Lord” (kyrios). By describing communion as a ‘Lordly supper,’ Paul emphasizes the dignity and honor involved in the ordinance. By describing communion as a “Lordly supper,” Paul emphasizes the dignity and honor involved in the ordinance. Though Paul clearly critiques the Corinthians’ practice in this section, his answer is not to disregard the meal, as if it were a dispensable part of their worship or to demote it to infrequent observance. Instead, Paul frames it as a royal feast that they would be fools to ignore. Debates about the presence of Christ aside, Paul nonetheless shows a “high” view of the ordinance. In doing so, Paul’s use of this expression rebukes the apathy that plagues so much of Christendom. Far too many today miss this ordinance because they do not esteem it as “the Lordly meal.” Against Elitism The Corinthians’ problem was not apathy toward the meal. It was elitism. And here’s the twist: The Corinthians thought they had accepted the invitation to this great supper, but Paul’s critique reveals they had shown up to the wrong celebration. The next verse says their practice amounted only to each eating “his own meal” (11:21). From the start of the letter, Paul has addressed their schisms (1:10–13) that manifested worldly wisdom in which one group boasted over another (vv. 18–31). The same problem evidently affected their practice of communion, too, so much so that Paul sarcastically says, “There must be factions among you in order that those who are genuine among you may be recognized” (11:19)! The Corinthians thought they had accepted the invitation to this great supper, but Paul’s critique reveals they had shown up to the wrong celebration. According to this verse, Paul provides the reason why the Corinthians’ practice of communion had failed to live up to the standard of the “Lordly supper.” This is Paul’s sarcasm at its finest. By treating the meal as a Roman banquet in which one vies for honor to the exclusion of others (see v. 22), they had ironically demoted communion to just a common meal. Even worse, Paul jabs at them by saying that the one who should have been drinking “the cup of blessing” (10:16) now “drinks judgment on himself” (11:29). The Corinthians had rightly valued this meal as “imperial,” but they forgot who the true “emperor” was. Paul refers to Jesus as “Lord” (kyrios) seven times in the short span of 13 verses (vv. 20–32). It is this Lord—the Lord Jesus—whose death is proclaimed in this meal (v. 26). This death by crucifixion is foolishness to the world (1:18) and allows one to only boast in the Lord (v. 31). For the Lord In contrast to some who see little value in the meal, other believers today, like the Corinthians, see its great value but decide this is an opportunity to showcase their own spirituality or “genuine status” (see 11:19) over and above other genuine members of Christ’s body. But the meal proclaims the most exalted one, the Lord, dying—and therefore defies being co-opted for selfish purposes of self-promotion. Whenever it is used for selfish purposes, whenever it becomes anything besides communing with the crucified, risen, and returning Christ, we miss it as the “Lordly meal.”