I was never a huge fan of communion. Ever since I was a kid sitting in a pew with my head bowed, I didn’t really know how to experience the significance of that little cracker and shot glass of grape juice. But now that I’ve learned that the Lord’s Supper was the primary way the church gathered for the first 300 years, I feel compelled to get a hold of it. So I did a little Googling:

Other cultures:

• As early as the 6^th Century B.C., the Ancient Greeks would offer libations to the Gods as a ritualistic practice, as well as make a point of drinking to each other’s health. The Romans placed such an importance on drinking to health that at one point in time the Senate passed a decree that stated that all must drink to Emperor Augustus at every meal. (source)
• Entering the Mediterranean world of Paul’s day, you find that formal evening meals always begin with a bread-breaking ritual in honor of a deity. Polytheists choose their patron god or goddess, Jews worship Yahweh, and Christians break bread in honor of Jesus…. Have we missed the point? Most “tables of the Lord” today focus primarily on one’s vertical relationship with Jesus. Even our church potlucks—where actual meal-sharing takes place—usually comprise people of similar social status. (source)
• Bread and wine were central to the diet of the ancient Mediterranean world. Bread was the staple food for most people—the heart of a typical meal, not just a side dish. Wine also was an effective means of storing and sharing the food value of the important grape crop and not just a luxury for festive occasions. Bread and wine together made a meal, or most of it. (source)
• To celebrate a meal in honor of a hero or an event was a common occurrence in the Graeco-Roman world. My argument therefore holds that Paul’s interpretation of the misfortunes in the Corinthian community as the result of sacrilegious behavior and the eschatological outlook of the Lord’s Supper make this meal a distinctive member of the Graeco-Roman meal tradition. (source)
• A Toast To the Immortals: The pious ritual of raising a glass to honor a deity has ancient origins…. One might propose a drink to one of a few Gods: “To the Good Spirit! To Zeus Soter! To Hygieia (Health)!” (source)

Church history

• The memorial meal, looking back to the death of the Lord, is a fellowship meal, intended to unite the church around the table of the Lord, and it is also a proclamation event, announcing the death and anticipating the return of the Lord. (source)
• The Christian meal, on the other hand, included hymns that extolled Jesus as Lord, prophecies that challenged Rome’s ideological claims, and letters—read aloud—that promoted egalitarianism and instructed believers on how to live according to kingdom of God principles. Hence, the Christian banquet was an act of nonviolent resistance. (source)
• Entrance has been given to private masses, which more resemble a kind of excommunication than that communion ordained by the Lord, when the priestling, about to devour his victim apart, separates himself from the whole body of the faithful. That there may be no mistake, I call it a private mass whenever there is no partaking of the Lord’s Supper among believers, though, at the same time, a great multitude of persons may be present. (source)

The paradigm that made the most sense to me, although I don’t think it’s quite capturing it, is toasting Jesus. Toasting carries significance, like a covenant. Have you ever been at a wedding where the weird uncle does the inappropriate speech, and you’re supposed to drink in agreement with it? (That’s when I raise my glass, but don’t sip.) Toasting is a community honoring someone together. There’s a speech that remembers the person’s qualities and accomplishments.

Maybe that’s what Paul told us to do “whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup” – 1 Corinthians 11:26