J. N. Darby, in his article On Worship,v wrote: Although worship is offered in various ways, by hymns, by thanksgivings, in the form of prayers, in praise, etc., we can understand, I say, that the Lord's Supper, as representing that which forms the basis of all worship, is the center of its exercise, around which the other elements that compose it are grouped. The worshipper is thereby reminded of that which is the most precious of all things in the sight of God—the death of His beloved Son. He recalls the act in which the Saviour has testified His love in the most powerful way. The exercise of this blessed privilege, the Lord’s Supper, has been denied its proper place from the very earliest days of Christianity. In his letter to the Smyrnaeans, Ignatius writes: Let no man do anything connected with the Church without the bishop. Let that be deemed a proper Eucharist, which is administered either by the bishop, or by one to whom he has entrusted it. This pattern has continued to this day. Whether it be the imposition of a priestly caste to administer it, the withholding of the wine from the laity, the irregular administration of it, the Lord’s Supper has lost its true place in Christian worship.
The Lord Jesus instituted this remembrance on the night of His betrayal: “He took bread, and gave thanks, and brake it, and gave unto them, saying, This is My body which is given for you: this do in remembrance of Me. Likewise also the cup after supper, saying, This cup is the new testament in My blood, which is shed for you” (Luke 22:19-20). The Apostle Paul gives us the doctrine for it in the tenth and eleventh chapters of his first epistle to the Corinthians. In the book of Acts we learn that the first Christians “continued stedfastly in the apostles' doctrine and fellowship, and in breaking of bread, and in prayers” (Acts 2:42). Initially it was performed daily: “Every day, being constantly in the temple with one accord, and breaking bread in the house, they received their food with gladness and simplicity of heart” (Acts 2:46 JND). However, it soon settled into a pattern of once a week on the day we know as the Lord’s Day. “We ... came unto them to Troas in five days; where we abode seven days. And upon the first day of the week, when the disciples came together to break bread” (Acts 20:7). Paul evidently stayed in Troas for seven days so that he, and those with him, would have the privilege of remembering the Lord with the local assembly (Acts 20:7). We see this pattern again in Tyre and Puteoli (Acts 21:4; 28:13). That there was a gathering on the first day of the week is further established by Paul’s direction to Corinth: “Upon the first day of the week let every one of you lay by him in store, as God hath prospered him” (1 Cor. 16:2). Any suggestion that we should hold the remembrance on any day according to our convenience is contradicted by these verses. Not that the Lord’s Day is the Christian’s Sabbath—the Sabbath has not been moved; it was a day uniquely given, under law, as a sign between Jehovah and the children of Israel (Exod. 31:16-17).
The exercise of the Lord’s Supper is not in itself worship, but, rather, it represents that which forms the basis of worship—the death of the Lord Jesus Christ. God is not “worshipped with men's hands” (Acts 17:25); it is not by doing that we worship. On the other hand, to assemble for worship without the Lord’s Supper, or to have the Lord’s Supper as a mere sacrament, is incongruous. The Lord’s Supper was given, not as a command, but as a request. Furthermore, it is a privilege and not a right; circumstances or bad conduct may preclude one from partaking of the Lord’s Supper (1 Cor. 5:11; Titus 3:10; etc.). It is an act we carry out as a memorial of the Lord’s death (1 Cor. 11:26). We often speak of remembering the Lord—as if the Lord’s Supper is a reminder to us of that which we are apt to forget. No doubt it serves that purpose, but it should be more than this—more than a reflection of our weakness. It is a remembrance, a recalling to mind as a memorial, that Christ, though now living, once died—the blood (wine) stands separate from the body (loaf). Remembrance Day was established on November 11th to commemorate the end of World War One. It was a day to honour those who sacrificed so much for the sake of their country. In many cases it was the supreme sacrifice, death. Likewise, the Lord’s Supper is a memorial to our Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, His body given and His blood shed—we remember Him in His death. It should be about Him, and, as such, it should give rise to worship in our hearts.
When we come together for the remembrance of the Lord, our hearts and minds are often far removed from the subject before us. The hymns and prayers are reflective of this: we pray for help; we reflect on the depths of our depravity; we bemoan our great weakness; we sing of the Lord’s faithfulness; we praise the Lord for all His goodness; we acknowledge His exaltation and power. Nevertheless, that which is represented in the loaf and wine, a dead Christ, often seems far removed. None of the things enumerated are wrong and they have their time and place. This isn’t a question of right or wrong—rather, it concerns the state of the soul. How much better it would be if we came together prepared in heart and mind. I don’t mean as to what one might pray, or read, or sing; that, in its own way, would be far worse. But, rather, I allude to the spirit of what Peter says when he writes: “Sanctify the Lord God in your hearts” (1 Pet. 3:15). If we come into the Lord’s presence with a divided heart, distracted by this world—either its charms or its cares—it is little wonder that the remembrance of the Lord becomes a postscript to the meeting. Sadly, we often come into the Lord’s presence in a state of soul ill-suited to that place. It seems to take considerable time before we are ready to remember the Lord. Mind you, if that is what it takes, then it must be so—pretension to a spiritual state is a sin and not a mere weakness—but let us be deeply exercised by it; it is a sorrowful commentary on our condition.