On the First Day of Every Week: The Case for Weekly Communion
Other authors have addressed the question of weekly communion here at Kuyperian Commentary before, including Pastor Uri Brito earlier this year. I do not presume to improve upon their work but would like to add a few thoughts in arguing for the Church’s weekly celebration of the Eucharist.
An increasing number of Reformed churches are embracing weekly communion at the Lord’s Table. This is a good thing, in my judgment, and a more consistent expression of our Reformed heritage and the desire to be always reforming in light of Scripture. But this is very different from what many Christians are accustomed to. Many evangelical Baptist and Reformed congregations have never eaten the Supper weekly. It is only celebrated infrequently in many Presbyterian churches and not without prior warnings and extensive preparation by the members of the congregation. On what basis is the weekly observance of the Lord’s Supper to be advocated?
There is no question that the early Church partook of the Supper every first day of the week. The historical evidence is beyond dispute. The Didache, written between A.D. 50-150, provides explicit evidence of the Church’s weekly communion.
(more…)But every Lord’s day do ye gather yourselves together, and break bread, and give thanksgiving after having confessed your transgressions, that your sacrifice may be pure. But let no one that is at variance with his fellow come together with you, until they be reconciled, that your sacrifice may not be profaned. For this is that which was spoken by the Lord: In every place and time offer to me a pure sacrifice; for I am a great King, saith the Lord, and my name is wonderful among the nations.
–Didache XIV, ANF 7.381
Can we do communion at home during this time?
There are numerous discussions on the Lord’s Supper today. But they are not the common discussions among Reformed, Lutheran, and Evangelicals. Those distinctions are pronounced historically and we debate the objective merits of each position. Rather, the shape of modern debates on the Supper has to do with how we partake of the elements when we are not gathered together doing worship on Sunday.a It’s safe to assert that most congregations in America are wrestling with this question. No one is immune to it. Even evangelical traditions that practice the Lord’s Supper infrequently (monthly or quarterly) have to tackle the matter since none of us can determine how long this virus will plague the country.
There are still some churches meeting on Sundays, though with limited numbers and with abundant caution, but I am not speaking to those rare groups. I would like to address the thousands of churches that moved to some form of virtual practice. At the outset, it’s important to note that I am not aware of any pastor who is taking these decisions lightly. Some have wrestled with these questions in profound ways. Some sessions have not reached a consensus, adding another layer to the headache. These are difficult days. But every decision has consequences.
In large evangelical churches with hundreds of households, it is likely that members will take matters into their own hands. A pastor or a group of pastors cannot be sacramental policemen. People will adjust and their adjustment will be a clear manifestation of their theological paradigms.
I recall meeting an old Episcopal deacon about a decade ago. He attended a fairly well-known parish in town. In our conversation, he shared with me how excited he was to do the Lord’s Supper with the youth group that night. When I inquired, he related that instead of bread and wine, he was going to bring Pepsi and crackers. He was thrilled with the prospect of doing communion in a “fresh new way.” I did not take the time to protest. My disappointment was too great.
That dreadful story, unfortunately, is an illustration of the kinds of creativity we are seeing in some churches today among parishioners. I have heard countless stories of families partaking of the Lord’s Supper alone at night, or even of pastors encouraging their people to drink and eat in their separate homes after hearing the pastor deliver a sermon on-line.b. Dr. Scott Swain summarizes the case against such practices:
A sacrament, at the most basic level, is a symbolic action ordained by Jesus Christ to which he has attached the promise of his presence and blessing (Exod 20:24; Matt 28:18-20; Luke 22:19; 1 Cor 10:1-4, 16; 11:24-25). The “sign,” on this understanding, is not simply the “elements” of water, bread, and wine. The sign is the entirety of the symbolic action which, in the case of the Lord’s Supper, is a shared meal (1 Cor 10:17). Moreover, when it comes to the Lord’s Supper, the symbolic action of a shared meal has a specific, divinely ordained context: “when you come together” (1 Cor 11:33).
This apostolic imperative of togetherness is all over the Epistle to the Corinthians. It is not a spiritual togetherness but a fleshly togetherness. When individual families or individuals are taking upon themselves the ritual of the Supper they are forsaking this crucial Pauline imperative. Further, they are diminishing the significance of the meal. Extraordinary times do not justify trivializing the Supper or taking it out of its original setting.c. The church is deeply impoverished when it takes this perspective and the Supper takes a back seat to theological pragmatism.
Many comments today echo a form of Gnosticism when it comes to church. Some will boldly state that the church is not a building, but the people. While that statement may seem innocent, it has serious implications. First, because the Apostle Paul calls us a building:
For we are co-workers in God’s service; you are God’s field, God’s building.
The Apostle compares God’s people to a foundation. It does not mean that if a hurricane came and hindered us from meeting in a particular location, therefore we would not be the church, but it does mean that we are building blocks, stones, and furniture in God’s holy temple.
But secondly, we must be cautious lest we embrace a view of life that takes the Christian away from sacred space to form our own autonomous spaces. We meet together to eat together in a building together, a building which however small or great stands for the space that God calls us to unite as one body eating one loaf, not twenty loaves.
These days offer us moments of great reflection. The Church is scattered in the city. Families and friends cannot hug, kiss, or shake hands and the Lord’s Supper, that meaningful grace to the Church, is far from reach. Our approach should not be to take it at all costs or adjust as we see fit but allow the Supper to maintain its proper role in the life of the Church. We eat and drink when we are together as a body ordinarily led by the physical presence of an ordained minister. When we are apart, and this pattern is not present, we wait. If we decide to eat and drink alone, the very purpose of the Supper is thwarted. We must all wait in anticipation for the first Sunday when we will join with our bodies the corporate assembly. Then, we will feast again as God intended.
- Some may opine that we do worship anytime, but this is a silly analogy. The Bible places the corporate worship as the primary act of worship among other acts of worship through the week (back)
- There is a case for a drive-through system where saints take the elements from an ordained minister and take it as they receive on the church’s parking lot. We can say they are eating together as one, rather than in isolation (back)
- There is also a case for having various ordained ministers administering the Supper to folks in nursing homes or in regular homes in times of great trial. Note that this is not a household communion, but the proper administration comes from men called to serve the body. These exceptions are offered in most denominations manuals. What I am arguing against is the individualization of the sacraments apart from the togetherness of the body and the presence of a church officer (back)
John Owen on the Trinity
John Frame famously observed that “Theology is the application of Scripture.” Yet, theological discourse is often seen as the profession of the elite; an abstract conversation left to the academicians of Christian history. And even more so when we are speaking about the doctrine of the Trinity. The doctrine of the Trinity makes its appearance in those rare encounters with cultists, but it largely remains hidden from public eyes. We can speak of God generally, and we can even elaborate on the work of Christ or the Spirit as comforter, but to speak of the inner workings of the Godhead or the harmonious nature in which the Three Persons bring the world into existence, is another thing altogether. “Not practical.” “Too theological.” This lack of interest reaches its climax when discussing our union with God himself, Father, Son and Spirit.
Last year, I had the opportunity to teach a seminary class in Brazil on the Gospels. When we centered on our Lord Jesus’ high priestly prayer in John 17, we began to talk about the inner relationships of the blessed Trinity. I observed that understanding the Trinity is to understand the true God. One of my students replied, “Pastor, my people think studying the Trinity is irrelevant for his Christian walk.” My response was, “It is the only relevant issue in his Christian walk.”
In John Owen’s masterful Communion with God he notes:
“Our communion . . . with God consisteth in his communication of himself unto us, with our return unto him of that which he requireth and accepteth, flowing from that union which in Jesus Christ we have with him.”
For Owen, the relationship we have with God is not merely our attachment to one person of the Godhead, but with the Triune God through Jesus Christ. Owen later notes that this union also flows by the abiding power of the Holy Spirit. In fact, the Puritan Owen so marveled in our communion with God and God with us that he saw that motif everywhere. In fact, he was driven in his exegesis to use the Songs of Solomon as a template to explain our relationship. Our relationship with the Tri-unity is so personal and intimate that Owen lands on the exquisite Solomonic songs:
What shall I say? there is no end of his excellencies and desirableness;—”He is altogether lovely. This is our beloved, and this is our friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.” (Works, 2:77–78 )
Owen saw the mystical union between Christ and the Church, the conjugal love of Solomon’s songs, as expressions of our deep union with God himself. At some level, as Owen so eloquently expounds, we must grasp that conversations about the Trinity were never meant to be left in abstract theological volumes, but to reach the pew. To speak of God is to speak of the Trinity. Therefore, God’s people need to see the Trinity not just on Trinity Sunday in the Church Calendar, but in all dimensions of life. It is the only relevant issue in our Christian walk. Indeed in the Trinity, we move and live and have our being.
Hallowed Storytelling From Table and Bowl, Part II
Do This
Rev. Dr. James Jordan is scholar-in-residence at Theopolis Institute. This post was originally found at Biblical Horizons.
(The essay that follows concerns a rather touchy subject: how the Lord’s Supper is to be done. I am not writing to insult or offend, but to challenge. To that end I have not “held back” but have “gone ahead” and said what I think needs to be said — for your consideration.)
There is only one ritual commanded in the New Testament for routine use in the Church: the ritual of the Lord’s Supper. I believe that Satan does not want the Church to do the rite of the Lord’s Supper, and has expended tremendous energy to prevent our doing it the way Jesus said to do it. (more…)
The Prayer of Humble Access
The historic prayer book of the Anglican Communion, “The Book of Common Prayer,” includes some controversial prayers. Despite often receiving praise as a work of the Reformation, its verbiage can also feel uncomfortably Catholic. Its emphases on saints and sacraments can seem wetted from the pen tip of Thomas Aquinas rather than Thomas Cranmer. One such prayer is entitled the “Prayer of Humble Access.”
“We do not presume to come to this thy Table, O merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness, but in thy manifold and great mercies. We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy Table. But thou art the same Lord, whose property is always to have mercy: Grant us therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat the flesh of thy dear Son Jesus Christ, and to drink his blood, that our sinful bodies may be made clean by his Body, and our souls washed through his most precious Blood, and that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us. Amen.” a
During the Holy Communion service, this prayer is offered following the Lord’s prayer while the kneeling congregation anticipates the words of institution (i.e. “This is my body…”). It is important to note that as a matter of liturgical significance the confession and absolution have already been offered and received in the service. In this way, the “Prayer of Humble Access” builds upon the Reformational apprehensions to any sort of merited righteousness, while also affirming the Reformed tradition’s emphasis on self-examination prior to communion. This belaboring of sin after confession has earned some criticism from liturgical scholars like James B. Jordan: “it focuses on sin and justification to the extent that the entire service feels more like a penitential vigil than a celebration of redemption.” b
Jordan is right if you read the prayer as solely penitential. But this prayer is posturing the Christian up from his knees to a seat at the table. It is bidding the Christian, “dine with God.” Mortal men are invited to Valhalla– what to the Norse meant “Hall of the Slain”– for a feast of flesh and mead. Only the brave souls that died in the triumph of Holy War would feast in Odin’s hall for slain warriors. So it is true of our prayers here. Christ’s absolution has progressed beyond mere forgiveness into conquest. (Romans 8:31-39) And now, those willing to die in and for their sins may enter. Now at the table, we may eat the flesh and drink the blood.
This prayer also offers a narrative to help understand Christ’s presence in the eucharist. Douglas Wilson rightly points out that: “We partake of the Lord in the participles, we partake of Him in the partaking. We cannot say, ‘Look, there is the Lord, stationary, on the table.’ Rather, we say, ‘Here is the Lord in the action of eating and drinking.’ And these actions are part of a series of actions, which together constitute the story. We partake of the Lord’s body and blood in a glorious series of verbs—declaring, praying, blessing, setting apart, taking, breaking, taking, and giving. And each moment in the story says something about the end of the story.” c
- Press, O. U. (1993). The 1928 Book of Common Prayer. Oxford: Oxford University Press, USA. (back)
- 1993. Rite Reasons, Studies in Worship, No. 29, Biblical Horizons. (back)
- Wilson, Douglas. (2013). Against The Church. Moscow, ID: Canon Press. (back)
The House and the Ascension
Long ago, our Father in Heaven had a plan. His plan was to create the world as a theater to display his glory. The world was to be a house that reflected his name. The Shekinah glory was to remain there forever. And through many dangers, toils, and snares, the house was little by little losing the purpose the builder had for it.
It would appear that God’s building project had become an abysmal failure. But God’s construction plans are not like our building projects. His ways are not our ways. He had a plan. He had a restoration project. He was going to restore, rebuild, and reclaim his own house. This time, the house was not going to be built on spiritual adultery or religious idolatry. It would be on the Rock, which is Christ. The builders rejected him, but the new humanity composed of men and women, and children united to the Rock, will no longer deny him.
In the life of Jesus, the foundation was poured on the earth. In his death, the wall and roof were placed to cover the world and give it shade. In his resurrection, fresh, clean water is available. Come and drink of the river that never runs dry. But there is one part of this earthly construction that is missing. There is a foundation, a roof to protect you from the storms, running water to shower and be replenished, but now we need to turn it on. We need electricity! We need the power to turn the refrigerator, stove, microwave, air conditioner, heater, fan, laptops, cell phones, etc. We need to activate the house so that everyone can live with a purpose. I propose that the Ascension of Jesus is that singular event in history that gives life to everything; that sets everything into motion. It is the electricity that the Church needs to disciple the nations.
Without the Ascension, we are living in an almost finished property. The Ascension means that the house/world is ready to be inhabited once and for all. The power is on. We can now move in together as a Church and take care of it. The workers can all go home. Our only task is now maintaining the house. Now, this house is the world. And the world is a big place. It needs to be energized by the Ascension. The Ascension is God’s way of saying: “My Son’s work is done! Now it’s your turn!” (more…)
John Calvin on the Sacraments
1. After God has once received us into his family, it is not that he may regard us in the light of servants, but of sons, performing the part of a kind and anxious parent, and providing for our maintenance during the whole course of our lives. And, not contented with this, he has been pleased by a pledge to assure us of his continued liberality. To this end, he has given another sacrament to his Church by the hand of his only-begotten Son—viz. a spiritual feast, at which Christ testifies that he himself is living bread (John 6:51), on which our souls feed, for a true and blessed immortality… First, then, the signs are bread and wine, which represent the invisible food which we receive from the body and blood of Christ. For as God, regenerating us in baptism, ingrafts us into the fellowship of his Church, and makes us his by adoption, so we have said that he performs the office of a provident parent, in continually supplying the food by which he may sustain and preserve us in the life to which he has begotten us by his word. Moreover, Christ is the only food of our soul, and, therefore, our heavenly Father invites us to him, that, refreshed by communion with him, we may ever and anon gather new vigour until we reach the heavenly immortality. But as this mystery of the secret union of Christ with believers is incomprehensible by nature, he exhibits its figure and image in visible signs adapted to our capacity, nay, by giving, as it were, earnests and badges, he makes it as certain to us as if it were seen by the eye; the familiarity of the similitude giving it access to minds however dull, and showing that souls are fed by Christ just as the corporeal life is sustained by bread and wine. We now, therefore, understand the end which this mystical benediction has in view—viz. to assure us that the body of Christ was once sacrificed for us, so that we may now eat it, and, eating, feel within ourselves the efficacy of that one sacrifice,—that his blood was once shed for us so as to be our perpetual drink. This is the force of the promise which is added, “Take, eat; this is my body, which is broken for you” (Mt. 26:26, &c.). The body which was once offered for our salvation we are enjoined to take and eat, that, while we see ourselves made partakers of it, we may safely conclude that the virtue of that death will be efficacious in us. Hence he terms the cup the covenant in his blood. For the covenant which he once sanctioned by his blood he in a manner renews, or rather continues, in so far as regards the confirmation of our faith, as often as he stretches forth his sacred blood as drink to us.
…
10. The sum is, that the flesh and blood of Christ feed our souls just as bread and wine maintain and support our corporeal life. For there would be no aptitude in the sign, did not our souls find their nourishment in Christ. This could not be, did not Christ truly form one with us, and refresh us by the eating of his flesh, and the drinking of his blood. But though it seems an incredible thing that the flesh of Christ, while at such a distance from us in respect of place, should be food to us, let us remember how far the secret virtue of the Holy Spirit surpasses all our conceptions, and how foolish it is to wish to measure its immensity by our feeble capacity. Therefore, what our mind does not comprehend let faith conceive—viz. that the Spirit truly unites things separated by space. That sacred communion of flesh and blood by which Christ transfuses his life into us, just as if it penetrated our bones and marrow, he testifies and seals in the Supper, and that not by presenting a vain or empty sign, but by there exerting an efficacy of the Spirit by which he fulfils what he promises. And truly the thing there signified he exhibits and offers to all who sit down at that spiritual feast, although it is beneficially received by believers only who receive this great benefit with true faith and heartfelt gratitude. For this reason the apostle said, “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”? (1 Cor. 10:16.) There is no ground to object that the expression is figurative, and gives the sign the name of the thing signified. I admit, indeed, that the breaking of bread is a symbol, not the reality. But this being admitted, we duly infer from the exhibition of the symbol that the thing itself is exhibited. For unless we would charge God with deceit, we will never presume to say that he holds forth an empty symbol. Therefore, if by the breaking of bread the Lord truly represents the partaking of his body, there ought to be no doubt whatever that he truly exhibits and performs it. The rule which the pious ought always to observe is, whenever they see the symbols instituted by the Lord, to think and feel surely persuaded that the truth of the thing signified is also present. For why does the Lord put the symbol of his body into your hands, but just to assure you that you truly partake of him? If this is true let us feel as much assured that the visible sign is given us in seal of an invisible gift as that his body itself is given to us.
11. I hold then (as has always been received in the Church, and is still taught by those who feel aright), that the sacred mystery of the Supper consists of two things—the corporeal signs, which, presented to the eye, represent invisible things in a manner adapted to our weak capacity, and the spiritual truth, which is at once figured and exhibited by the signs. When attempting familiarly to explain its nature, I am accustomed to set down three things—the thing meant, the matter which depends on it, and the virtue or efficacy consequent upon both. The thing meant consists in the promises which are in a manner included in the sign. By the matter, or substance, I mean Christ, with his death and resurrection. By the effect, I understand redemption, justification, sanctification, eternal life, and all other benefits which Christ bestows upon us. Moreover, though all these things have respect to faith, I leave no room for the cavil, that when I say Christ is conceived by faith, I mean that he is only conceived by the intellect and imagination. He is offered by the promises, not that we may stop short at the sight or mere knowledge of him, but that we may enjoy true communion with him. And, indeed, I see not how any one can expect to have redemption and righteousness in the cross of Christ, and life in his death, without trusting first of all to true communion with Christ himself. Those blessings could not reach us, did not Christ previously make himself ours. I say then, that in the mystery of the Supper, by the symbols of bread and wine, Christ, his body and his blood, are truly exhibited to us, that in them he fulfilled all obedience, in order to procure righteousness for us— first that we might become one body with him; and, secondly, that being made partakers of his substance, we might feel the result of this fact in the participation of all his blessings.
John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, Book IV, Chapter 17, §1 & 10-11 (All the stuff in between is really good too and I would encourage you to read it.)
Paedocommunion and Three Year Old Levites
An Intellectual Fence?
Does scripture allow us to fence the table of the Lord from covenant children on the basis of an ability to articulate propositional doctrine? Can I keep my baptized son from the meal because he cannot explain the intricacies of substitutionary atonement? No. For while communion may represent a whole package of difficult theological truths that could take a lifetime to understand, what is necessary for participation…every three year old covenant member should be assumed to possess.
Why do I say this? Let’s look at a passage of scripture that gives God’s call to church ministry starting at age three.
Three Year Old Levites
2 Chronicles 31 calls for Levites to begin holy work at the Lord’s house at the age of three:
11 Then Hezekiah commanded them to prepare chambers in the house of the Lord, and they prepared them. 12 And they faithfully brought in the contributions, the tithes, and the dedicated things. … [Certain men] were faithfully assisting him in the cities of the priests, to distribute the portions to their brothers, old and young alike, by divisions, 16 except those enrolled by genealogy, males from three years old and upward—all who entered the house of the Lord as the duty of each day required—for their service according to their offices, by their divisions. (2 Chronicles 31.11-16)
God expected Levites who worked in the house of the Lord do their work beginning right after they were weaned (age three). How does this compare to how we treat the children already marked out by God’s covenant in baptism, today? Do we assume them to be automatically capable for faithful ministry to the Lord? We should.
Baptism is the right fence, and we have already rightly brought our covenant children inside. But where some push for an intellectual fence, usually around twelve, our passage in 2 Chronicles 31 pushes us back out of the realm of making intellect a credible fence. It calls us back to the scriptural action of charitable presumption for the young in the Lord.
Too Faithful
Some want to bar children from the table until they can articulate their faith in the Lord in the right fashion, to the satisfaction of the elders. I have known of a child in one such church who was well trained by his parents in the truths of the faith. When he was interviewed by the elders, they thought his answers were too good – he was actually repeating the catechetical answers.
But to these guardians of the table, an accurate answer indicated that the answers were not genuine, because the child did not come up with them in his own child-like words. They failed to pass the child into the communing community within the larger number of the baptized in that church.
The child had been too diligent at learning according to the faith of his parents. Too ready to obey. This resulted in a flawless test, which, in their eyes could only indicate that the child’s obedience was practiced and not genuine. Did they not see this as fruit of faithfulness in that home?
But that test is nowhere found before the calling of young Hebrew covenant members to holy work for the Lord.
We Know Which Jesus
The prime worry of the people who hold out for crystaline doctrinal explanations is that the child may not have true faith, and that they won’t understand Jesus correctly before coming to the meal. They fear that somehow this defies warnings in 1 Corinthians 11.
Let’s imagine a child of our own church, baptized, and as usual, he is giving no troubling evidence that he is worshiping the wrong Jesus. He is just a child raised in our Trinitarian church. Should we restrict him from the table because we can’t know whether he is orthodox in his heart?
Should we just accept every claim to faith we hear? How do we know the child isn’t full of heresy?
There is an answer, and we can see it by comparing the children of our church to a man who wants to join our local body on the first day he visits. You would need to verify who this man is… what does he truly worship? Is he part of the Church?
Now of course, we should be able to reserve a right to judge when any random adult says “I love Jesus, let me join your church!” In that case, we still need to take pause to make certain he is talking about our Jesus, and not the Mormon one, or the Jehovah’s Witness one, because we do not know where this man is coming from. We need to see that he wishes to worship the Triune God of the historic (apostolic) church.
But the key point is knowledge of where a person comes from. For on the other hand, when a tiny baptized saint, and member of a household in our church says, “I love Jesus,” we must already be assured that they are loving the Jesus of that orthodox house.
In fact, if it is a child of our own church, let us act out of certainty that they could not under normal circumstances be referring to any Jesus other than our own Jesus. The child knows only the Jesus he is given in your body of believers. Are your church’s elders orthodox in preaching, and in guiding the child’s parents? Then be assured he is asking for your own orthodox Jesus.
If we question the heart intention of a child of our own church, we must likewise question his parent’s grown up orthodoxy, and even our own preaching. In such a case we would similarly be driven to absurdly question whether “I love Grand-Mom,” means what he thinks it means. But we know it is fully possible for a child to love Grand-Mom, and to mean it, even after rote learning of this phrase on the road right before entering Grand-Mom’s house at Thanksgiving. We would question an outsider, an insurance salesman who said, “Hey, I love grand-mom too!” But we don’t need to question our children, to accept their love as genuine though it has little intellectual formation.
The insurance salesman may indeed love Grand-Mom, but we should test it. We owe him no charitable presumption of love for her. Likewise, it world be absurd not to charitably presume our kids to love Grand-Mom.
We know which Jesus a baptized catechumen is referring to, no matter how young that disciple is. The baptism is of that church and through those parents. So that baptism implies the faith of that church is indeed the faith the child is attached to. And not merely sociologically, but also theologically…spiritually.
My Point
Of course this whole thing is an unnecessary exercise, because my point is not that I think we need a verbal profession before opening the Lord’s table to a young baptized eater. I believe the Bible tells us plainly that if a person is baptized and is an eater, then he or she should eat the common meal that is owned by all the baptized. (1 Cor 10 – one body, one loaf). We accept the normativity of faith in the womb (Ps 22, Ps 71, Ps 8).
Rather, my main point is that even if we were to ask for such a confession of verbally expressed faith before allowing the child to the food of the Lord’s house, we would have to work within the restrictions of scripture. And the Scripture will not let us ask for a test that is beyond the complete capability of a three year old. If he cannot pass our session’s inquiry, then we are defying the pattern set in scripture. Three-year-olds have holy work to do for the Lord.<>
