The Last Supper: Where the Church Begins
Simplicity and community are more than themes—they were the daily reality of the early Church.
When Jesus knew His time was short—when He had every reason to focus on His own fear, pain, and coming death—He gathered His friends for a meal. He took bread. He took wine. He gave thanks. He washed feet. He spoke of love (John 13:1b).
That’s where this series begins: not in a cathedral or a boardroom, not with a strategic vision or theological treatise, but at the table.
The Table at the Heart of Christian Worship
The table has always been central to the Christian faith, especially in the early Church. Not just as a metaphor, but as a reality. In the earliest days of the Church, believers didn’t just meet for sermons or rituals; they gathered in homes, broke bread, shared stories, and lived life together. The Eucharist wasn’t a scheduled liturgical slot; it was the heartbeat of their worship, wrapped in community, soaked in meaning, and tied to everyday acts of hospitality (Acts 2:42).
As I’ve reflected more deeply on the table, the bread, and the shared life of the early believers, questions have begun to surface. What have we kept? What have we lost? And what do we need to recover if we’re to become the Church Christ actually intended us to be? These aren’t questions born of rebellion or bitterness—they’re born of longing.
What the Modern Church Has Lost
Because what I see today, in many corners of Christianity, often looks very different.
Let me be clear: I’m not anti-structure or anti-tradition. I love the rhythms of the liturgy. I love vestments that remind us of heaven. I love prayers that stretch back through the centuries. But somewhere along the way, what began as community has often become corporate. What began as table has too often become platform.
When Bureaucracy Becomes the Mission
Many churches today—especially those embedded in large institutional systems—are struggling under the weight of their own machinery. Bureaucracy has become a full-time job. Before a church can feed the hungry or plant new communities, it must first pay the salaries, support the administrative staff, maintain the property, complete compliance paperwork, and fund ever-growing overhead. Millions are spent just to keep the wheels turning—before a single act of mission or outreach ever begins.
And this isn’t just financial. The institutional mindset creeps into how we make decisions, how we select leaders, how we assess spiritual “success.” I’ve seen firsthand how well-meaning people with a heart for ministry get slowly buried under layers of red tape and rigid systems. A calling to serve becomes a journey through committees, applications, forms, psychological evaluations, timelines, approval panels… often stretching over years. And by the time someone is finally “cleared” to minister, that flame of calling has flickered, worn thin by the machinery that was meant to nurture it.
When Systems Replace the Spirit
It’s not that structure is inherently wrong. But structure is meant to serve mission—not the other way around (Mark 2:27, NJB). And when rules exist simply for their own sake, when procedures become more important than people, when governance outweighs grace, we lose something of the spirit of the Gospel.
How the Early Church Lived the Gospel
The early Church was different. It was richly sacramental—yes—but also startlingly simple. They met in homes. They prayed. They shared bread and wine. They gave to anyone who had need (Acts 4:34). There were no coffee shops, no merchandise tables, no security guards, no branded mugs. What they had was fellowship, sacrifice, shared worship, and the living presence of Christ. There was just Christ, and the people He had drawn together.
And it worked. Against all odds, in a world full of chaos, persecution, and political turmoil, the Church flourished. It grew—not because it had power or popularity, but because it had authenticity. It was compelling because it was costly. People didn’t join for comfort; they joined because something about this Jesus and this community rang true.
What If We Returned to That?
I often wonder what would happen if we truly returned to that kind of Church—not a perfect replica of the first-century model, but a recovery of its core: simplicity, sacrament, shared life, and Christ at the centre.
What if we measured the health of a church not by attendance, but by how many people eat together during the week? Not by the size of the budget, but by how deeply people are known and cared for? What if “ministry” wasn’t a career path, but simply the fruit of lives lived in surrender to Christ?
Why the World Needs the Table Again
Because the world right now is messy. Hostile. Unstable. Many people feel like things are falling apart—personally, politically, spiritually. And if I’m honest, I feel it too. But that’s exactly why I believe this moment is ripe for rediscovery. When the world feels like it’s going to pieces, we need the table more than ever.
Jesus knew His world was crumbling. And He chose to serve. He chose to share a meal. He chose community. And He left us with a command: “Do this in remembrance of me.”
Not just the ritual act, but the whole pattern of His life (John 13:15). Do this—serve. Do this—share. Do this—welcome. Do this—love.
Liturgy with Life, Not Just Ritual
And yet, so often, churches have turned that beautiful command into little more than a liturgical checkbox. We prepare the altar, we recite the prayers, we break the bread… but the heart of it—the radical, relational, table-centered invitation of Christ—is lost amid the formalities.
I’m not against formality. I’m not advocating a stripped-down, anti-liturgical, make-it-up-as-you-go faith. But I am pleading for a return to why we do these things.
Why do we gather? Why do we break bread? Why do we baptise, anoint, preach, and bless?
Because Christ calls us to. Because these acts are how we love, serve, and share Him with one another. And when our churches forget that, when our systems and procedures get in the way of actual community, we begin to lose sight of the Gospel itself.
Tradition That Breathes
Some of the most beautiful church moments I’ve experienced haven’t taken place on a schedule or behind a pulpit (Matthew 18:20). They’ve happened around quiet tables, in whispered prayers, in humble acts of hospitality and mutual care. And increasingly, I find myself drawn not away from tradition, but deeper into it—into liturgy that means something, vestments that carry beauty and history, symbols that point us to mystery, not control.
I’m not moving away from formality or sacred space—I’m simply seeking substance over structure, presence over performance, and Christ over everything else. The question isn’t whether we have tradition, but whether our tradition is alive with the Spirit of Christ.
Rebuilding the Church From the Table Outward
I’m not saying every church must sell its building or cancel every programme. But I do believe we must ask harder questions. Why are we doing this? Who are we really serving? Does this help people meet Christ, or just help us keep the machine running?
We don’t need to abandon tradition—we need to restore its heart. We don’t need to reject organisation—we need to make sure it stays in service of mission. And we certainly don’t need more performance—we need presence. The presence of Christ at the table, and the presence of His people with one another.
A Church That Reflects Christ
What draws me to the early Church isn’t nostalgia or minimalism. It’s their integrity. They faced chaos too. Their world was politically unstable, religiously divided, and socially uncertain. But their response wasn’t to double down on certainty or build higher walls. They gathered. They prayed. They shared life. They worshipped with awe. And they loved—radically, sacrificially, and together.
That’s the kind of Church I want to be part of. One that holds mystery without needing to explain it all. One that wears robes not as costumes, but as signs of sacred responsibility. One that welcomes the hurting before it checks credentials. One that prioritises presence over programmes, and Jesus over institutional loyalty.
Let’s Return to the Table
I’m not leaving the Church. I’m leaving my past behind to step more fully into a kind of church I’ve been yearning for, often without realising it. A church steeped in the mystery of the Holy Spirit. A church that still dares to wear ancient vestments not as decoration, but as sacred signs. A church shaped by liturgy, not by branding. A church where the welcome is real, where every person matters, and where Christ—not the institution—is at the centre.
This isn’t about nostalgia or reinvention. It’s about return.
I believe the future of the Church lies in the same place it began:
Around tables. In beauty. In wonder. In broken bread.
In people who care more about the presence of Christ than about being right.
In worship that humbles us. In mystery that invites us.
In communities that love without agenda and serve without spotlight.
Let’s return to the table—not to dwell in the past, but to rediscover the Gospel’s heart.
And maybe—just maybe—build something sacred enough to last.
Let’s return to the table.
✍️ Writer’s Note
This article reflects my personal journey—shaped by Scripture, prayer, and experience in ministry—toward a simpler, more Christ-centred way of being the Church. It is not a rejection of tradition, but a call to recover its heart. For a broader reflection on spiritual manipulation and performance-driven Christianity, read ‘Exploitation of Christianity’.
Further Reading & Supporting Perspectives:
- On shared Eucharistic life in Acts:
“The Church’s Original Rhythm: Breaking Bread Daily” – Logos - On the early Church’s structure and simplicity:
“Communion in the Early Church” – Early Church History - On the dangers of institutionalism and bureaucracy in churches:
“The Cost of Complexity: Why Some Churches Struggle to Grow” – The Gospel Coalition - On rediscovering sacred mystery and presence:
“What is Worship in Spirit and Truth?” – Logos - On meaningful liturgy and ethical formation:
“Liturgy and Ethical Formation” – Logos - Sociological view on the Church as community (Acts 2/4):
“Fellowship, Hospitality, and the Early Church” – Christian Heritage
📚 Further Resources from FHLM
If you’re looking for simple, Christ-centred resources for worship, prayer, or reflection, explore our free liturgical materials and devotionals:
Thank you for the very informative description.
God bless you.