Am I Worthy?
In 1 Corinthians 11:27–29, Paul gives a sobering warning about the Lord’s Supper:
“Therefore whoever eats this bread or drinks this cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord. But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For he who eats and drinks in an unworthy manner eats and drinks judgment to himself, not discerning the Lord’s body.”
Paul’s message is clear: the Lord’s Supper is not a ritual to be taken lightly. It is not a mere tradition or something we do out of habit. It is a holy moment of reflection, confession, and remembrance—one where we declare with our actions whether or not our lives align with the name we wear: Christian.
Worthiness and The Avengers
If you are like me, the Marvel Cinematic Universe has been a major part of your life for a long time. Going to opening night for nearly every movie release with friends to leave with our minds blown by what we just witnessed. The best of the MCU, and the culmination of all the movies, are the Avengers films.
Among this group of heroes is Thor, “god of thunder.”
There’s a scene in Avengers: Age of Ultron where the team is gathered around Thor’s hammer, Mjölnir. They all began to wonder what is the secret to wielding this weapon. Each hero took turns trying to lift it and then made excuses for why they were unable—claiming there must be some hidden trick to unlocking its power.
However, after all of the attempts and theories, Thor himself sums it up with a theory of his own: “You’re all not worthy.” As the hammer is inscribed in the comics, “Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor.”
No tricks. No loopholes. Just one condition: worthiness.
What if the Lord’s Supper worked the same way?
What if, when the bread and the cup were passed, we could only physically partake if our lives matched the calling of Christ? If our hands, unclean with sin, were unable to lift the emblem of His body? If our lips, stained with hypocrisy, could not drink from the cup of His blood?
There would be no pretending. No casual participation because it’s “what we do every Sunday.” No hiding behind the name Christian while living in ways that deny it. Our worthiness—or lack thereof—would be on full display.
Hidden Sin, Hidden Shame
The truth is, many of us have sins that can be hidden. Paul’s warning in Corinthians wasn’t just about open rebellion; it was also about the quiet, unchecked sins of the heart. Among the most deceptive is the sin of pornography.
Pornography thrives in the shadows. It’s easy to hide behind a screen, to carry the shame silently, and yet to show up on Sunday morning acting as though nothing is wrong. We bow our heads, we pass the tray, we eat the bread, and we drink the cup. Outwardly, we look the part. Inwardly, our souls are crying out.
This is where the challenge of worthiness pierces deep. Not because God demands perfection—none of us could ever lift that cup if that were the standard—but because He calls us to honest, examined hearts. To live as people who are not enslaved to sin but set free by Christ.
This is the heart of Timshel Ministries: helping men and women escape the bondage of pornography so they can live openly, honestly, and faithfully before God. Our mission is not about shaming but about freeing.
Because the enemy wants us to believe our sin must stay hidden, that as long as we look “worthy” to others, the Lord’s Supper will somehow still count.
But God calls us to something better. He calls us into the light, into accountability, into transformation. He calls us to worthiness—not the impossible worthiness of our own perfection, but the worthiness that comes from surrender, confession, and walking in the Spirit.
The Avengers scene reminds us that worthiness is not a trick to figure out. The Lord’s Supper reminds us that worthiness is not a mask to put on. It is the real question each of us must face when we approach the table: Am I living as though the body and blood of Christ truly mean something to me?
When we come to the table with unconfessed, hidden sin, we are like those heroes straining against a hammer they cannot lift. But when we repent, surrender, and walk in the freedom Christ offers—even from sins as hidden and enslaving as pornography—we find strength not in ourselves, but in the One whose body was broken and whose blood was shed for us.
