(Revised from Lacombe Free Reformed Church circular, 2009)
We live in an age that never stops changing. But should that spirit of change find its way into Christ’s Church? Paul writes in 2 Thessalonians 2:15, “Therefore, brethren, stand fast, and hold the traditions which ye have been taught, whether by word, or our epistle.” He said this because even in the earliest days there were those who wished to alter the order and customs of the Church. It has been so ever since. The duty of Christ’s Church is to keep those scriptural traditions handed down through the ages and not to yield them, however unfashionable they may appear.
One place where change has crept in is the Lord’s Supper. Over time, both the sacrament and the way we administer it have shifted. In many Reformed congregations, the people no longer come forward to a table. Instead, the bread and wine (or grape juice) are passed from pew to pew. From this practice of remaining seated came another change: the single communion cup was replaced by many small, individual cups, a distinctly American innovation. Only a few generations ago, such a thing was unheard of in our churches. Yet now, more and more congregations are setting aside the common cup for these individual ones.
Some may ask, “Does it really matter? Would the Lord concern Himself with something so small as the number of cups?” The answer of this brief study is clear: yes, it does matter to Him.
The Common Cup in Scripture
The first place we must look for understanding is the night of the Lord’s own institution. The Evangelist Luke records: “And he took the cup, and gave thanks, and said, Take this, and divide it among yourselves.” (Luke 22:17). In that upper room, the Redeemer placed one cup into the hands of His disciples, not twelve, not several, but one. He blessed it, gave thanks, and commanded them to divide it (one content) among themselves. The act was both deliberate and instructive.
The Lord’s Supper was not an new creation, but the holy superseding fulfillment of the Passover feast. Mark and Paul both tell us that Christ instituted the Supper “after supper” (Mark 14:18; 1 Cor. 11:25). The Passover itself had long been marked by a shared cup; the rabbis speak of four ritual cups taken at different stages of the meal, but always in common. Our Lord took that familiar symbol and invested it with eternal meaning. He transformed the old covenant cup of hope into the new covenant cup of redemption. The form remained, one cup, shared among many, but the reality it pointed to was greater by far.
Thus, when the disciples received the cup from Christ’s hand, they did not each take a portion for themselves. They received what He gave, passed it to one another, and all drank of it. The unity of the vessel mirrored the unity of their salvation.
This is not an incidental detail. It is a pattern repeated throughout the entire New Testament witness. In every passage where the Supper is mentioned, the Spirit speaks of the cup, always in the singular.
“And he took the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, Drink ye all of it.” (Matt. 26:27)
“And he took the cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them: and they all drank of it.” (Mark 14:23)
“Likewise also the cup after supper, saying, This cup is the new testament in my blood, which is shed for you.” (Luke 22:20)
“The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ?” (1 Cor. 10:16)
“After the same manner also he took the cup, when he had supped, saying, This cup is the new testament in my blood: this do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance of me.” (1 Cor. 11:25)
The same grammatical pattern holds without exception. The inspired writers use the definite article and the singular noun, to poterion, “the cup.” Nowhere in the New Testament do we read ta poteria, “the cups.” The Spirit’s precision is apparent. Scripture’s vocabulary is theology in miniature, and the unbroken use of the singular points us to divine intent: one Savior, one covenant, one blood shed for the remission of sins, and one cup representing that covenant in His Church.
This unity of expression carries a doctrinal weight. The Supper is a sacrament of communion, not of individuality. Its visible signs are meant to correspond to the invisible grace they signify. To multiply the cups is, even unintentionally, to obscure what Christ has made clear. The details of divine institution are never secondary. What God appoints, we do not alter; what Christ commands, we do not improve.
The command itself could hardly be plainer: “Take this, and divide it among yourselves.” (Luke 22:17). The demonstrative pronoun this directs our attention to the one container Christ held. The action He requires (divide it among yourselves) reveals both the manner and the meaning of the act. They were to partake of the same vessel and share together what came from His hand. Again, in Matthew 26:27, the Lord presses the same point: “Drink ye all of it.” The emphasis rests upon the singular it, one cup, one Christ, one covenant.
This uniformity of form and meaning carries through the apostolic teaching. When Paul writes to the Corinthians, he identifies the cup as the “communion of the blood of Christ” (1 Cor. 10:16). The term koinōnia means participation, fellowship, or shared life. The cup, then, is a reminder of Christ’s atonement, but it is also the visible symbol of shared redemption, the outward act that portrays inward union. To substitute a tray of individual cups for the single vessel is to turn the corporate fellowship of believers into a series of private gestures. It makes visible independence where Christ intended visible unity.
Some may argue that such distinctions are trivial, that what matters is the heart, not the form. But the Word of God does not treat His ordinances lightly. The Lord’s institutions are not human symbols; they are divine means of grace, and their form carries His message. To alter the sign is to obscure the thing signified. The church is not permitted to reimagine the symbols of grace according to convenience or preference.
Paul’s warning to the Colossians remains relevant: “Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of the world, and not after Christ.” (Col. 2:8). The spirit of the age will always offer reasons to modify God’s order (whether for health, for expedience, or for comfort), but those reasons spring from the “rudiments of the world.” The Reformed conscience must answer differently. Our rule is the Word, not the wisdom of men.
The Old Testament principle still governs the New Testament church: “What thing soever I command you, observe to do it: thou shalt not add thereto, nor diminish from it.” (Deut. 12:32). The Lord’s Supper is not ours to edit. Christ Himself, the Host and Head of the table, appointed one cup to be blessed, shared, and received by faith. To keep that form is not traditionalism, it is obedience.
In the simplicity of that single cup lies the testimony of unity: one blood, one salvation, one body, one Lord. It preaches to our eyes, nose, and lips the same gospel that the Word preaches to our ears, that all who drink by faith are joined to Him and to one another. That is why the church must hold fast the pattern given, guarding the form of sound words and the form of sound signs.
One in Christ
The common cup also symbolizes the unity that all believers share in Christ. Paul teaches in 1 Corinthians 12:12: “For as the body is one, and hath many members, and all the members of that one body, being many, are one body: so also is Christ.” Likewise, Galatians 3:28 declares, “…for ye are all one in Christ Jesus.”
The shared cup proclaims this unity. Its meaning is diminished when replaced by individual cups, which emphasize the individual over the body. By its very symbolism, it shifts the focus from communion to independence—a spirit more akin to Baptist individualism than to Reformed catholicity. The Apostle writes again in 1 Corinthians 10:16, “The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ?” The term communion (Greek koinōnia) means joint fellowship or shared participation.
Thus, the common cup visibly testifies to our oneness in Christ and the wholeness of His body.
The Common Cup in History
Scripture warns, “Remove not the ancient landmark, which thy fathers have set” (Proverbs 22:28). Our fathers have spoken clearly on this matter.
If we are the generation that removes their landmarks, we risk leading our children into greater departures. History tells us that it is the natural progression of each generation to take a step to the left of their parents. The first generation that takes liberty often gives birth to one that takes license. We must therefore tread carefully, lest we be remembered as those who uprooted the ancient boundary of the common cup.
The Heidelberg Catechism, Lord’s Day 28, Question 75, reads:
Q. 75. How art thou admonished and assured in the Lord’s Supper, that thou art a partaker of that one sacrifice of Christ, accomplished on the cross, and of all his benefits?
A. Thus: That Christ has commanded me and all believers to eat of this broken bread, and to drink of this cup, in remembrance of Him, adding these promises: first, that His body was offered and broken on the cross for me, and His blood shed for me, as certainly as I see with my eyes the bread of the Lord broken for me, and the cup communicated to me… (Heidelberg Catechism, Lord’s Day 28, Q&A 75, The Three Forms of Unity, 1563).
The Catechism assumes one cup, the cup, shared among communicants. Its very language reflects the practice of the Reformed churches of the sixteenth century.
Zacharias Ursinus, the principal author and commentator on the Catechism, explains:
“The rites which Christ has instituted are, that the Lord’s bread be broken, distributed, and received, and the Lord’s cup be given to all the communicants, in remembrance of His death.”
(Ursinus, Zacharias. Of the Lord’s Supper, and the True Doctrine and Pure Administration Thereof; With a Refutation of Both Transubstantiation and Consubstantiation. Translated by G.W. Williard, Columbus, Ohio: Scott & Bascom, 1852, p. 376.)
Our Form for the Administration of the Lord’s Supper further confirms this:
“The cup of blessing which we bless is the communion of the blood of Christ.”
Note the singular form: the cup. Only one container is blessed. To alter this to these cups would not only distort the biblical form (1 Corinthians 10:16), but also force the minister to bless dozens of separate vessels, a practice alien to Reformed liturgy and foreign to the institution of Christ. In congregations where wine is pre-poured before the service by the deacons or custodians, those cups are not blessed at all, since only the one vessels lifted and consecrated in prayer receives the blessing. To avoid this inconsistency, one would need to invent new liturgical formulas, precisely the kind of “man-made inventions” our Reformed fathers rejected.
Finally, our Church Order, Article 62, provides:
“Every Church shall administer the Lord’s Supper in such a manner as it shall judge most conducive to edification; provided, however, that the outward ceremonies as prescribed in God’s Word be not changed, and all superstition be avoided.” (Church Order of the Reformed Churches, Article 62.)
If, as we have shown, the use of a single vessels accords with Scripture and the testimony of our fathers, then fidelity to both the Word of God and our Church Order compels us to retain it. To multiply the cups is not a mere matter of convenience; it alters the symbolism established by Christ Himself.
The common cup, then, remains a confession—not only of our communion with the Savior, but of our communion with one another in His body.
The Dutch Reformed Fathers
In 1618–1619, the Synod of Dordrecht, one of the greatest assemblies of the Reformed Church, commissioned a group of ministers to compose an extensive commentary on the whole of Scripture. These Annotations upon the Holy Bible (published in 1637) became a monumental achievement of the Dutch Reformation, combining careful exegesis with profound pastoral theology. On Matthew 26:27, these annotations record:
“And took the cup, and having given thanks, gave (it) to them; and they all drank of the same [cup]: [Namely, as Christ had commanded them, Matthew. 26.27].” (The Dutch Annotations upon the Whole Bible, Dordrecht, 1637, on Matthew 26:27.)
Here, the phrase “they all drank of the same” leaves no room for ambiguity. The fathers of Dort understood that Christ gave one cup to His disciples, not many. The unity of the act, its shared participation,was as essential to its meaning as the wine itself.
Among those who continued and deepened the theology of Dordt was Wilhelmus à Brakel (1635–1711), one of the most beloved Dutch divines of the Nadere Reformatie (Dutch Second Reformation). Writing in his Redelijke Godsdienst (The Christian’s Reasonable Service), à Brakel captures both the theological and experiential beauty of the common cup:
“Even if the world, as their enemy, hates, despises, persecutes, and oppresses them, there is yet no reason for concern; they can readily miss its love, for they have better company and they refresh themselves in a sweet manner in the exercise of mutual love. They confess this unity in the Lord’s Supper by eating of the same bread and by drinking of the same cup. ‘For we being many are one bread, and one body: for we are all partakers of that one bread’ (1 Cor. 10:17).”
(à Brakel, Wilhelmus. The Christian’s Reasonable Service. Translated by Bartel Elshout, Morgan, PA: Soli Deo Gloria, 1992–1995, vol. 2, p. 577.)
For à Brakel, the act of sharing one cup is a confession of love within the communion of saints. The Supper is not a private experience of piety but a visible expression of corporate grace. To separate believers into individuals at that table, is to obscure that shared participation of one body and one blood.
Another eminent theologian of that era, Herman Witsius (1636–1708), author of The Economy of the Covenants Between God and Man, expressed the same conviction. He observes the careful language of Scripture itself:
“The third action of the guests is, to drink the consecrated wine out of the cup. It is remarkable, that our Lord said concerning the cup, not only ‘Take this, and divide it among yourselves,’ Luke 22:17, but likewise added a mark of universality, ‘Drink ye all of it,’ Matt. 26:27. And we are told how they complied with this command, Mark 14:24, ‘And they all drank of it.’”
(Witsius, Herman. The Economy of the Covenants Between God and Man. Phillipsburg, PA: Presbyterian and Reformed Publishing Company, 1990 [1693], vol. 2, pp. 455–456.)
Witsius’ emphasis lies not only on the drinking but on the universality—drink ye all of it. His observation that “they all drank of it” underscores the singularity of the vessel, the same cup that Christ Himself blessed. The grammar of the Gospel record itself bears witness to a shared participation, not a divided one. The act of dividing the wine into many cups reverses the very picture Christ painted: one Savior, one covenant, one communion.
It would be easy to multiply testimonies. The history of the Reformed Church, indeed, of the one holy catholic and apostolic Church, presents a continuous witness to the practice of the common cup. From the Early Church Fathers (Justin Martyr, Cyprian, Augustine) through the Magisterial Reformers (Luther, Calvin, Bucer), and into the Puritans, Dutch Second Reformation, and Westminster Divines, the unity of the cup remained unbroken. Only in recent times has this “ancient landmark” been displaced by convenience, custom, and fundamentalist Baptist influences.
To abandon the common vessel is to obscure a symbol Christ Himself established and our fathers faithfully preserved. The danger is not only historical amnesia, but theological erosion. For when the visible unity of the body is fractured in sign, it is soon forgotten in substance.
“Remove not the ancient landmark, which thy fathers have set” (Proverbs 22:28). To hold the cup together is to hold the faith together.
Objections Answered
It cannot be denied that the introduction of individual cups arose for two main reasons. The first is theological: the spirit of individualism that marks our age, the “me-centered” religion of private faith and personal preference. The second is practical: the concern for sanitation and public health (Note: This was originally written in Alberta in 2009, pre-pandemic. It has undergone 2 revisions).
The first objection, rooted in the modern preference of self, has already been answered. In the Lord’s Supper, unity must always take precedence over individuality. The Table of Christ is both a mirror for self-reflection and a communion in one body and one blood.
The second objection, sanitation, deserves careful and sympathetic attention.
“The Yuck Factor”
Many sincere Christians hesitate to use the common cup because of what might be called “the yuck factor.” The thought of drinking from the same vessel as others, they fear, poses a heightened risk of contagion. This objection is not new; it is simply modernized with medical vocabulary. Yet, the question must be asked: does a perceived health concern nullify the divine command?
We believe not. The following considerations show why.
Two Thousand Years of Safe Use
The common cup has been used since the night of the first Supper. Across centuries, cultures, and continents, believers have shared it without record of epidemic or plague caused by the sacrament. Are the dangers of disease more pressing today than in the days of Christ, when sanitation was far less advanced? Surely not. The Lord instituted the cup in full knowledge of human frailty and still commanded its use. To alter His command under the pretense of greater wisdom is to claim we know better than He.
Other Points of Contact Are Far Less Sanitary
Every worship service involves far greater exposure to germs than the Lord’s Table. The handshake at the door, the pew, The Psalter, the doorknob, or the bathroom sink, all are touched by many hands. Even the trays and the bread, handled repeatedly, carry greater potential for transmission than the silver rim of a single cup. If fear of illness is the measure, one ought to avoid the entire gathering rather than the blessed vessel of communion.
The Nature of the Elements Themselves
Communion wine, often fortified to twelve percent or higher, has antibacterial properties that inhibit the spread of disease. Furthermore, noble metals, particularly silver, possess natural antimicrobial qualities recognized even in modern science. The cup of blessing is not only symbolically sanctified but physically resistant to contamination.
Historical Testimony
Countless ministers over the centuries have borne witness that no communicant under their care was ever made ill by the common cup. Such testimony, repeated through generations, is no small matter. The absence of harm across two millennia speaks with quiet trust to the providence of God in the preservation of His ordinance.
For these reasons, the fear of illness cannot overrule the command or the symbolism of the common cup. To invoke the “yuck factor” as grounds for changing Christ’s institution is to forget that the Supper is a holy ordinance, not a matter of convenience or hygiene. It is worth recalling the Lord’s rebuke to Peter when he resisted what seemed unclean: “And the voice spake unto him again the second time, What God hath cleansed, that call not thou common” (Acts 10:15).
Are we wiser than our fathers? Are we wiser than God?
The Pragmatic Objection
Another objection arises from practicality. Some ask, “If one cup is commanded, why do some congregations use two?”
Here, Article 62 of the Church Order provides helpful guidance:
“Every Church shall administer the Lord’s Supper in such a manner as it shall judge most conducive to edification; provided, however, that the outward ceremonies as prescribed in God’s Word be not changed, and all superstition be avoided…” (Church Order of the Reformed Churches, Art. 62).
When larger congregations use two cups, one for each side of the table, it maintains the symbol with accommodation of space and time. The emphasis remains the same: one shared content among many participents, signifying one body and one faith. The duplication of the vessel for practical necessity does not fracture the unity it represents.
What does destroy the symbol is the distribution of a tray of individual cups to each communicant. This practice removes the visible expression of shared participation and replaces it with the symbol of personal identity. The result is not a table of fellowship but a row of private devotees.
The difference, then, lies not in number but in nature. Two cups at one table still proclaim one communion as they are poured from a common vessel. One hundred individual cups proclaim none.
In light of Scripture, the testimony of our fathers, and the unbroken witness of Church history, the objections raised against the common cup argue too little, and concede too much.
The “cup of blessing which we bless” (1 Corinthians 10:16) remains both the sign and seal of our unity in Christ. To divide the cup is to divide the sign; and to divide the sign is to blur the truth it was meant to proclaim.
A Plea to Return to the Common Cup
Unless the Lord Himself sends a reformation upon His Church, each generation will drift further from the previous. History bears solemn witness to this truth. The natural man does not move toward obedience, but away from it. Compromise begins as convenience and ends as corruption. What one generation tolerates, the next will embrace.
Some shrug it off as an unimportant matter, hardly worth defending. Yet if it truly were of no consequence, why alter it? Why introduce division into the Church of Christ over something so insignificant? The very act of change betrays that it does, in fact, matters. If it were a light thing, the old path would have been left untouched.
We readily confess that salvation does not hinge upon the number of cups used at the Table. Yet obedience does. The question is of faithfulness. What has the Lord commanded, and what has His Church received from the beginning? To tamper with Christ’s ordinances under the guise of progress is not reform, but decline.
The Holy Supper is a holy mystery, a means of grace to all who partake in faith. There, the believer communes with the crucified and risen Christ, feeding on Him by faith, tasting His promise in the bread and cup. Should we not, then, seek to walk in tender obedience to His revealed will, even in the smallest detail of His institution?
There is no Scriptural warrant for individual cups, none. There is, however, abundant testimony in Scripture, in the Confessions, and in Church history for the common cup. To alter what Christ Himself blessed and gave to His disciples is to let the hand of modernity touch the holy.
Let the Church maintain. Let her lay aside the inventions of convenience and retain the sign of unity given by her Lord. For as the Apostle says, “The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ?” (1 Corinthians 10:16).
Works Cited
The Holy Bible: King James Version. Cambridge University Press, 1769.
The Heidelberg Catechism. 1563. In The Three Forms of Unity. Grand Rapids: Reformation Heritage Books, 2011.
The Dutch Annotations upon the Whole Bible. Dordrecht: Synod of Dort, 1637.
à Brakel, Wilhelmus. The Christian’s Reasonable Service. Translated by Bartel Elshout, Morgan, PA: Soli Deo Gloria, 1992–1995.
Ursinus, Zacharias. Of the Lord’s Supper, and the True Doctrine and Pure Administration Thereof; With a Refutation of Both Transubstantiation and Consubstantiation. Translated by G. W. Williard, Scott & Bascom, 1852.
Witsius, Herman. The Economy of the Covenants Between God and Man. Phillipsburg, PA: Presbyterian and Reformed Publishing Company, 1990.
Church Order of the Reformed Churches. Grand Rapids: Free Reformed Publications, 2018.
Lewis, Jerrold. The Common Cup: A Command. Revised ed., 2009.