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.
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.
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)
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
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
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
As of October 15, 2018, the New York Times is reporting “The Russian Orthodox Church on Monday moved to sever all ties with the Constantinople Patriarchate, the Orthodox mother church, to protest its moves toward creating an independent church in Ukraine.” In more ways than one this represents a real schism in the Eastern Orthodox Church and can undermine the Orthodox claim to be a faithful representative of the historic Christian faith. For the non-orthodox, this is a challenge to our understanding of institutional and denominational Christianity.
(ALEXANDER ZEMLIANICHENKO – Getty Images)
Political and Religious Schisms
It is important to note that this schism is hardly a surprise to any who have seen the political undercurrent in this ongoing feud between the Hellenic and Slavic Orthodox Churches. Certainly every church conflict can be said to have some degree of political posturing, whether it is Rome’s Imperial power grab of the Great Schism, Henry VIII in England, or even the German princes that enabled Luther’s work. But this present schism presents a greater crisis to the contemporary Orthodox church and its American diaspora.
The jurisdictional authority of Constantinople as an important patriarchate is an ancient tradition, one that can be traced back to the “pentarchy” – a term used to describe the five self-governing jurisdictions of the undivided church. Rome, Constantinople, Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem were to be considered chief jurisdictions with special honor, authority, and significance. The stability of this five-headed church begins to fall apart in the 7th century as the Eastern territories are brought under Muslim rule, which happened to coincide with Rome’s increasing claims for universal jurisdiction. After the Great Schism between the Eastern and Western Churches, Constantinople becomes the Ecumenical Patriarch of the East and is recognized as “first among equals” of the Eastern Churches.
The Birth of the Russian Orthodox Church
The Russian Orthodox Church is born centuries later, first as a subordinate jurisdiction of the Ecumenical Patriarchate, but then as the Byzantine Empire crumbled the Russian Church claimed its own canonical independence. It is interesting that just as Rome claimed control as the East fell to the Muslims, the Russian church claims control as Byzantium falls. It would be over a century before this movement of self-government or “autocephaly” was officially recognized by the other Orthodox Churches. Today, the Russian Church represent a large chunk of Orthodox Christians and claims canonical jurisdiction over the Slavic Orthodox churches in Azerbaijan, Belarus, China, Estonia, Japan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Latvia, Lithuania, Moldova, Russia, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, Ukraine, and Uzbekistan as well as Orthodox Christians living in other countries who voluntarily submit to its jurisdiction.
The conflict between the Russian Church and the Ecumenical Patriarchate over the canonical status of Ukraine has reached the point of schism. The Russian church is currently disallowing any of its members from celebrating communion with Churches under the Ecumenical Patriarchate. In the United States, two-thirds of the Orthodox Christians are under the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople – what are commonly called Greek Orthodox. And over a hundred thousand Orthodox Christians in America are under Russian-origin jurisdictions like the Orthodox Church in America (autocephalous), the Russian Orthodox Church Outside of Russia, and the Churches of the Moscow Patriarchate.
Jurisdictional Multiplicity
Many American Christians are familiar with this sort of jurisdictional multiplicity and conflict. In my own tradition as an Anglican we have jurisdictions with identical prayer books, liturgies, and vestments, but completely out of communion. Some is justified, no Christian can or should commune with a female “bishop” as she prays to God using feminine pronouns, and denies the literal resurrection. Other breaks are similar to this current Orthodox struggle in that they are historically complicated and deeply political.
But this Orthodox question of canonical jurisdiction and authority of autocephalous churches poses an issue for all Christians. Many have fled the denominational chaos of Protestantism for the greener pastures of Orthodoxy as a solid, unified church. Perhaps believing that she was the sole representative of the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church. Others frustrated with the canonical division of Orthodoxy turned to Rome, hoping the Pope to lead the church through these conflicts and the Lord gave them Pope Francis.
It is a great sadness that the Russian Church would bar an otherwise faithful Christian from its communion altar. Functionally, the schism excommunicates the majority of American Orthodox Christians, at least temporarily. Can any branch of Orthodoxy claim to represent the unbroken tradition while denying real Christians access to the Body and Blood of Christ? As an Anglican Priest ordained in the Western Apostolic Succession of Sts. Peter, James, and John, and Paul – I recognize that the seeds of these poisonous canonical divisions were planted nearly a millennium ago with the Great Schism of 1054.
Bishops and Princes
The temptation for Catholic-minded Christians is to abuse our Apostolic identity as license to become the sole institutional representatives of Christ’s Kingdom. Bishops and Archbishops, Patriarchates and Metropolitans, are tempted to leave their chief calling to be shepherds of souls for the form of princely rule and worldly control.
Should the Russian Church maintain its stand against the Ecumenical Patriarchate, what effect does this have on the Orthodox identity as the faithful representative of the undivided church?
It is likely that Orthodox Christians in both jurisdictions are troubled over this – I’m sure they want Christ’s Church to be one. But perhaps rather than attempting to maneuver the canons into the favor of one jurisdiction or another, may we seek a humbler solution. Perhaps this moment is a time for Orthodox, Catholic, and Apostolic Churches to revisit what it means to be “one church.”
A Eucharistic Ecclesiology
In evaluating the merits of Russian autocephaly or the canonical authority of the Ecumenical Patriarch, perhaps we have overlooked the basics of Christian ecclesiology. The Holy Spirit brings the risen Life of Christ to us through faithful proclamation of the Gospel and His Sacraments. Imagine what it might look like to return to the simple eucharistic unity of our Apostolic fathers like St. Ignatius of Antioch who wrote: “Let that be deemed a proper Eucharist, which is [administered] either by the bishop, or by one to whom he has entrusted it. Wherever the bishop shall appear, there let the multitude [of the people] also be; even as, wherever Jesus Christ is, there is the Catholic Church.”
The Eucharist is the symbol and the means by which the Church becomes one with Christ and thus one with each other. St. John Chrysostom declares that Christ “mixed Himself with us and dissolved His body in us so that we may constitute a wholeness, be a body united to the Head.” To extend Eucharist fellowship is to recognize another Christian (and their doctrine) as part of the body of Christ. As St. Paul teaches, “For we being many are one bread, and one body: for we are all partakers of that one bread.” Just as to deny or bar one from Eucharist fellowship is to declare them outside of the body.
Perhaps at this time, when the dangers of building entire ecclesiastical structures off the flimsy merits of institutional jurisdictions are most visible, we can seek renewal around the Eucharist. The wounds suffered at 1054 have not healed, but the institutions that emerged have limped their way through a thousand year desert. Here now, as the churches become more and more divided – may we return to the Eucharistic promises of Christ’s real presence and to the reality of a undivided church around a shared altar.
There are patterns in the meta-narrative of the Bible. The crossing of the Red Sea is a recapitulation of the great flood. The passion of the Christ is the greater Exodus. This post assumes the priest —> king —> prophet pattern of redemptive history and will discuss observations about the similarities among three prophetic moments in the Bible and how they relate to the function of the Lord’s Supper in the life of the church.
Israel became a nation when God brought them up from bondage in the land of Egypt. Israel was a child under the tutelage of Torah, a nation of priests with a special class of priests to guard the community practice of Torah. In time, Israel would gain a good king who would reign with wisdom to do justice. The wisdom literature of the Bible is the literature of kings, who make decisions based not only on Torah but by the maturity and wisdom that begins with fearful obedience to Yahweh. After the period of the kings came the period of prophecy. Prophetic times are times of judgment. If Israel’s kings had been Christlike, the prophets would have gone to the nations only, to tear down the world of the Gentiles and rebuild it with prophetic speech. Prophecy is both an end and a beginning. Prophets oversee the judgment of one world and the recreation of the next. In this, they are like God who created the world with divine speech.
This pattern is repeated throughout the Bible. Adam was a failed priest. His firstborn son, Cain, was a father of tyrant kings who filled the earth with blood, requiring judgment and rebirth through Noah and the flood. The cycle begins again with Abraham being priest, Jacob ascending to kingship by wrestling with God and man to become Israel, and Joseph ascending to a throne over the rest of his brothers. For the purpose of this post, we want to juxtapose three prophetic moments and compare them: Joseph in Egypt, Daniel in Babylon, and the Church in Corinth.
We observe that Joseph and Daniel are in very similar situations. They are both exiled to a foreign land where they ascend to prominence among the Gentiles despite their Hebrew heritage. They are both nearly killed for their faithfulness, facing the dangers of pit, dungeon, furnace, and lions’ den. They both rise to prominence by advising kings through dream interpretation. The kings call upon them because they are known to have the “spirit of the gods” in them. The same is true of the apostles and first century Christians. The first-century was a period of judgement upon Israel and the nations. They have the Spirit. They suffer persecution. They rise to prominence among Gentiles, even in Caesar’s household (Phil. 4:22). The major difference in Corinth is that Jesus is Lord, having ascended to the right hand of God. Corinth is in Christ… or at least they are supposed to be, but let’s go back to Daniel and Joseph.
James Jordan has shown that Belshazzar’s feast in Daniel 5 is a sort of anti-Christian communion feast, the result of which is that the king of Babylon is found wanting as a king in the eyes of God. The word for “feast” is actually “bread.” Belshazzar’s feast is a feast of bread and wine, and he orders the vessels stolen from the temple of Yahweh in Jerusalem to be used to drink the wine. The lampstand, the symbol of Yahweh’s vigilance, is brought in to observe this feast. Belshazzar has manifested the Jerusalem temple within Babylon and has drunk judgment upon himself. The temple vessels are in exile and symbolize the people of God as vessels of worship. The body of Israel is being used to prop up a wicked head. The divine response: “This is not my Son, and I am not well pleased.”
Something similar happens in Genesis 42-44 when Joseph’s brothers appear before him looking for grain during a famine. Joseph’s brothers were not brother-keepers, having sold him into slavery. Now, Joseph is in the place of God and he wants to see what these men will do. Joseph divides the brothers for the purpose of reassembling them, for this is the end of prophetic judgment. Joseph wants the brothers to prove their brotherhood, so he keeps Simeon and sends them for Benjamin. They go home, but the only way to get more bread and restore Simeon is to also bring the youngest brother to the table.
When the eleven brothers come before Joseph, he tests them again by hiding his wine cup of divination in Benjamin’s grain sack. Wine has been added to bread; now is the hour of judgment. Joseph’s steward pursues them and accuses them of stealing his master’s sacred cup. The life of the thief is forfeit. However, when the cup is discovered in Benjamin’s sack, Judah returns and offers his own life for Benjamin’s. Joseph breaks down at this and reveals himself to his brothers, for Judah has laid his life down for the youngest. Judah has washed his own garments in the wine of judgment and thus all the brothers in Israel are found faithful. It is for this reason that the scepter of rule did not depart from Judah, but was given to Jesus, who washed His own garments in the wine of judgment by taking up His cross and laying down His life.
The lesson that Paul teaches the Corinthians is the same. The factions in Corinth are the opposite of brotherhood and kingship. The rich feast while the poor go hungry. However, communion is a manifestation of the new temple of God and the body of the King. In order for the church to pass as Christ, the youngest or poorest brothers and sisters must be welcomed to the table, whether poor of pocket or poor in theological understanding. To fail in this area is to fail to discern the body of the King.
Guest post by Michael Spalione, a Ph.D. student at Trinity College, Bristol.In my previous post, I highlighted the sacraments as the point of convergence between evangelicalism and ecumenism arguing that baptism and communion are presented in the New Testament as signs of the gospel that simultaneously enact and remember union with Christ and the unity of Christ’s body. I concluded that post by appealing to evangelical’s passion for the gospel as the reason for participating in ecumenism. (more…)
(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 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
I have been a pastor for almost a decade. I spend between 12-15 hours each week thinking, researching, and writing before I deliver the first words in my Sunday sermon.a The process of writing my sermon goes through a lengthy journey each week. I contemplate several questions from Monday to Friday which force me to edit and re-edit my manuscript. There is no perfect sermon, but a sermon that goes through revisions and asks import questions has a much better chance of communicating with clarity than the self-assured preacher who engages the sermonic task with nothing more than academic lenses.
I have compiled a list of ten questions I ask myself each week at some point or another.
Question #1: Is this language clear? When you write a manuscript ( as I do) you have an opportunity to carefully consider the language you use. I make a habit of reading my sermon out loud which leads me to realize that certain phrases do not convey the idea clearly. A well-written sermon does not necessarily mean a well-delivered sermon. Reading my sermons out loud causes me to re-write and look for other ways to explain a concept or application more clearly.
Question #2: Is there a need to use high theological language in this sermon? Seminary graduates are often tempted to use the best of their training in the wrong environment. People are not listening to you to hear your theological acumen. I am well aware that some in the congregation would be entirely comfortable with words like perichoresis and Arianism. I am not opposed to using high theological discourse. Words like atonement, justification, sanctification are biblical and need to be defined. But extra-biblical terms and ideologies should be employed sparingly. Much of this can be dealt in a Sunday School class or other environments. High theological language needs to be used with great care, and I think it needs to be avoided as much as possible in the Sunday sermon.
Question #3: Can I make this sermon even shorter? As I read my sermons each week, I find that I can cut a paragraph or two easily, or depending on how long you preach, perhaps an entire page. This is an important lesson for new preachers: not everything needs to be said. Shorter sermons–which I strongly advocateb–force you to say what’s important and keep some of your research in the footnotes where it belongs. Preachers need to learn what to prioritize in a sermon so as not to unload unnecessary information on their parishioners. (more…)
Thankful for great interactions before this article was published. It helped sharpen my points (back)
By this I mean sermons no longer than 30 minutes (back)
Thankful for great interactions before this article was published. It helped sharpen my points
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…)
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.
There is not a square inch in the whole domain of our human existence over which Christ, who is Sovereign over all, does not cry, ‘Mine!’Abraham Kuyper
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 (
