Out of Egypt:

Josh S., all you theology gurus, have a ball with this

My second paper of the semester for Doctrine II (a required class here at Covenant, so the standards aren't too high). Also my last paper for Doctrine II.

Also I wrote in one night, but I think it transcends that.

Anyway, it's my foray into the realm of Eucharistic theology. I use a lot of Leithart (Garver will love me?) and talk some about the Real Presence. (Though not nearly as much as I would've if I had had more time, read more of the sources I planned to use, and generally cared more. I like the topic, but I'd already written three papers this week, so I really didn't want to write anymore. And I still have one to go.)

Without further ado, here it is: "The Shape of the Eucharist: The Real Presence Controversy and What It Obscures"

The Shape of the Eucharist:
The Real Presence Controversy and What It Obscures

Judging simply by the divisions that it has caused within the Christian Church, the doctrine of the Lord’s Supper is one of the most obscure and misunderstood doctrines in all of theology. How ironic that the sacrament which was intended to proclaim the unity of the Church and to establish all her members in the faith has instead become a stumbling block for faith and the cause of schism. One can only hope that Christ’s presence remains with us to the end of the age (Matt. 28:20), though we may never agree on how the Eucharist proclaims that presence.

There are many debates about the theology of the Lord’s Supper; however, most would regard the question of Christ’s presence in the sacrament as of foremost importance. Mainstream evangelicalism denies the presence of Christ in the Lord’s Supper. This Zwinglian view of the sacrament is increasingly dominant in the Reformed churches as well, presumably because of influence from the wider Christian culture. Perhaps as a consequence, the Lord’s Supper is not that important to most Protestants in America. It is often celebrated infrequently in churches, both evangelical and Reformed, and plays little part in personal piety.

The Eucharist is portrayed in liturgy as simply a commemoration of Christ’s death. Thus, the emphasis is placed on the human action rather than the divine, and the sacrament is made subjective. In this way, the Reformers’ emphasis on the necessity of faith for proper receipt of the sacrament has been carried too far. Participants feel as though they must stir up the proper thoughts and feelings in themselves or else the sacrament will be ineffective. In the Reformed churches, an overemphasis on introspection is often another result of this subjective view of the sacrament. Individuals may feel shut out of table fellowship because they have been made to dwell on their guilt before God, rather than the grace which He offers at the table to all who come in repentance.

The Lord’s Supper is undeniably a commemoration of Christ’s death. The Apostle Paul states that in their celebration of the sacrament, the Church “proclaim[s] the Lord’s death until He comes” (1 Cor. 11:26). Jesus Himself commanded His disciples, “Do this in remembrance of Me” (Luke 22:19b). However, the Lord’s Supper is not simply a commemorative meal. To say so fails to do justice to the framework in which the Bible places it, which speaks not only of past commemoration, but of present participation and future anticipation.

The One who said “…[U]nless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in you” (John 6:53) was not speaking simply of the necessity of faith for salvation. He was speaking of an act, by which that faith is expressed and made visible.

The Lord’s Supper, like salvation itself, works in several time frames at once. It is fundamental to Christian living to understand that Christians not only are saved (regeneration, adoption and justification by faith), but are being saved (sanctification), and will be saved (the final justification, which is according to works, and followed by glorification). Similarly, the Lord’s Supper points back to Christ’s death and resurrection, making a memorial of those events before the Father; presently, it conveys the benefits of that redemptive event to all who partake in faith; it points forward to the eschatological feast at the end of time, the marriage supper of the Lamb, of which it is a foretaste.

Max Thurian makes a startling statement in the introduction to his book The Mystery of the Eucharist. “For all Christians, Christ, according to His promise, is made really present in His Body and Blood in the celebration of the Eucharist” (Thurian 9). From Thurian’s perspective in a French monastic community, this statement may appear true. However, in America, it reads as though he is denying that those who believe in a strictly memorial or symbolic view of the Supper, such as the Zwinglians and Anabaptists, are truly Christians.

This is not the case. Those who deny the Real Presence do so in response to the Catholic doctrine of the Sacrifice of the Mass, in which that presence is viewed through the distorted lens of Aristotelian philosophical categories. Thomas Merton, in his book The Living Bread, seeks to make the Catholic teaching appealing to a broad audience, ranging all the way from Catholic priests to those who, in his words, are “completely unacquainted with this great mystery” (xxxi). However, he has inherited a legacy of philosophical explanations of the Eucharist which make this impossible.

Merton’s book, though it is meditative in tone, begins with a dogmatic definition. “…[I]n this most Holy Sacrament, Jesus Christ Himself is truly and substantially present and remains present as long as the consecrated species of bread and wine continue in existence.” With this statement, the Protestant tradition has at least three points of disagreement. The first of these is the substantial presence, if that is defined in the terms of transubstantiation. The second is the presence due to the words of consecration, insofar as that makes the work of God in the Eucharist dependant on the action of a particular man – the priest. The third is the continued presence of Christ in the sacrament, which could lead to various superstitions since the consecrated bread and wine will not continue in the same state of existence. Against this third assertion, Calvin states that Christ is present in the act of eating itself, that as the bread is received by the physical mouth so His Body is received by the “mouth of faith.”

Other difficulties arise on further reading in Merton’s book. In his view, a priest is “a man set aside by God to offer sacrifice.” However, the book of Hebrews is clear that Christ has put an end to both Old Testament priesthood and sacrifice, since He is the antitype of which they spoke. Additionally, Merton speaks about the need, especially for priests, for “meditation and adoration before the tabernacle” in which the Host is kept. This is objectionable for two reasons. The first of these has already been mentioned – there is no presence of Christ in the sacramental elements apart from the actual sacramental action. Thus, when the elements are external to oneself, they cannot be worshipped. The second is that, as Peter Leithart says, Christ’s tearing of the temple veil in two indicates that the old distinctions of holiness no longer apply. When the Church celebrates communion, she is “furthering Christ’s work of rezoning the world” (38).

Merton’s book makes it clear that Catholic teaching on the Eucharist has, at the very least, obscured the sufficiency of Christ’s sacrifice on the Cross and encouraged idolatry through the practice of Eucharistic adoration. G.I. Williamson stresses both of these points in his commentary on the Heidelberg Catechism. Following the Reformers, he cites both Hebrews 10:10 and 10:12 to prove that one sacrifice was sufficient to sanctify all God’s elect and, that having been completed, Christ suffers no more (129). He also argues that Eucharistic adoration is idolatrous because “it gives to a created thing the worship that belongs to the Creator alone” (137). Catholics, however, find perfectly proper since, according to the doctrine of transubstantiation, the substance of Christ’s Body and Blood truly subsists under the accidents of bread and wine.

Since Williamson treats their doctrine as if it were the only way to take Christ’s words of institution literally, he sees no way to avoid idolatry other than to make the elements mere symbols of spiritual realities. Thus, he says that Christ when Christ said, “Take, eat; this is My Body,” He “simply meant that the bread…He held in His hand represented His Body” (133, emphasis his). Even so, Williamson desires to say that Christ is really present in the Lord’s Supper and that this presence is one “mediated by the Holy Spirit,” even as Calvin taught that it was (129). However, it later becomes apparent that Williamson means by “spiritual presence” that only the Spirit is present in the sacrament. “…[T]he same Holy Spirit…that dwells in Christ (without measure) also dwells in [the believer], so that [they] united, the one with the other” (129). The sacrament is essentially a picture – by faith the believer eats and so both desires and receives salvation in Christ (133).

Williamson’s criticisms of the Catholic position are essentially valid. Disregarding his faulty metaphysical foundations, however, Merton offers a fuller theology of the sacrament than Williamson.

Merton almost could be a covenant theologian when he writes that the Eucharist is “the sign that we belong to God, that we are His possession…and for that reason He comes to us and gives Himself to us as our possession” (101). He quotes St. Augustine on the Church’s action in celebrating the Eucharist: “In what she offers she herself is offered” (79). If only this conception had taken firmer hold of Merton, it might have crowded out his insistence, based on Catholic dogma, that the purpose of the Eucharist is to make Christ “present on the altar in a state of sacrifice” (20). The pure offering prophesied by Malachi, which he mentions on page 19, is the praises of the saints, not an action of a priest. The meaning of the word “Eucharist” is thanksgiving – when the Church sits down at the Table, she gives thanks for Christ’s completed work. The Eucharist is God’s gift to us, not the act of divine appeasement that the practice of private masses would suggest.

Merton himself recognizes this, to some extent. He calls the Eucharist the “medicine of immortality,” quoting St. Ignatius (116). Communion, in his view, is an act by which believers participate in the life of the Trinity and are given the power to resist sin. The Eucharist is “a convivium, a sacred banquet” (129) in which believers are “not only performing a supremely pure act of adoration of the divine Being, but much more…are entering into the plan of God’s will to ‘re-establish all things in Christ’” (102). Thus, Merton recognizes the present and future referents of the sacrament, which have largely been ignored by evangelicalism in its focus on commemoration. The Lord’s Supper is pre-eminently a feast of joy, not of looking back on Christ’s death, as if He were still in the tomb. Indeed, as Leithart writes, the Supper is the fulfillment of Christ’s prophecy in Matthew 26:29 that He would not drink wine again until that day He would drink it anew in His Father’s Kingdom (167).

Merton’s insights into the nature of the Eucharist, as expressed in these last couple paragraphs, have been suggested independently by several Reformed theologians, Leithart being one of them. Leithart’s “lens,” as he calls it, for viewing the Eucharist allows him to place these insights within a much broader and more Scripturally faithful context than Merton could have. His basis contention, as stated in the introduction to his book Blessed are the Hungry, is that “a typological framework for sacramental theology is as rich and, in its way, as precise...as a philosophical framework” (13). Against the attempt, seen both in the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation and the Protestant polemics against it, to move beyond “the ‘naïve outlook of Scripture’ to ‘the fundamental reality of the sacrament’” he holds up the “Scriptural descriptions of the Supper” – and these, as his book indicates are often typological and impressionistic – “are the most fundamental possible” (12). Against the evangelicals’ individualistic notion of faith, he stresses the collective reality of faith – it is “not only trusting God to save me, but trusting [Him] to do what He has promised to do in the world” (23).

Since St. Augustine’s time, at least, the sacraments have been called “visible words.” Leithart suggests that it might be more appropriate to call the Lord’s Supper an “edible word,” to indicate that its significance is as a communal act, not as an object for contemplation, philosophical or otherwise (69). It is only through the Church’s outward action that a visible renewal is made of the new covenant in Christ’s blood (33). Traditionally in Eucharistic theology, questions of substance – metaphysical questions – have been privileged over questions of how the Church and her members are shaped by their participation in the Eucharist (157). Though Leithart seems to affirm at several points the literal meaning of Jesus’ words in John 6 and at the Last Supper, that, he suggests, is not the main point. Often, Christ’s presence in the Eucharist has been hotly debated without either side having a clear understanding of what that presence – or the lack of it – would effect. Against this, Leithart writes, “The operative command in connection with the Supper is not ‘Reflect on this’ but ‘Do this’” (186).

In the traditional terms of Eucharistic theology, perhaps Leithart could best be categorized in the traditional terms as a literalist. The words Thurian applied to Luther could apply to Leithart as well: “For him, there is only the mystery, stated purely and simply by the…words of Christ.” It is this mystery, understood not in its essence but its effects, that is to shape the life of the Church. “As it was in the beginning, it is now and ever shall be, world without end.”

Works Cited

Merton, Thomas. The Living Bread. New York: Farrar, Straus & Cudahy, 1956.

Leithart, Peter. Blessed are the Hungry. Moscow, ID: Canon Press, 2000.

Thurian, Max. The Mystery of the Eucharist. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1984.

Williamson, G.I. The Heidelberg Catechism: A Study Guide. Philipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian & Reformed, 1993.

I'm anxious to read this.

Posted by: joel w at April 27, 2004 7:26 PM

Well, it's right there, above your comment :) So go ahead, whenever you have the time.

I'm anxious to have comments on it :)

Posted by: Evan Donovan at April 28, 2004 3:02 PM

A nice paper, but many of the assertions are simply untrue. I'll choose at random:

"Often, Christ’s presence in the Eucharist has been hotly debated without either side having a clear understanding of what that presence – or the lack of it – would effect."

Quite to the contrary, orthodox eucharistic theology has always had a well-developed doctrine of what the Real Presence effects. This goes back to the ancient formula of "medicine of immortality;" Ignatius drew the necessary connections between the oral reception of Christ's body and the resurrection of our own, a connection that is impossible to make if Christ's body is present only to the soul and to faith.

Leithart and the like are only able to say what they say because they have 2000 years of orthodox sacramentology to pick and choose from. Reformed sacramentology is born out of a desire to keep some connection to orthodox theology and at the same time deny its foundations. This unresolvable tension in history has tended to resolve itself in favor of Zwinglianism, which is what will continue to happen until someone realizes Calvin's basic errors.

Also, "Real Presence" has historically consistently meant (or included) the doctrine that the bread and wine are actually the true body and blood of Christ, although how this is so has always been a matter of debate (despite Rome's attempts to close the issue with the dogma of transubstantiation). It has never been simply a generic "presence of Christ in the Eucharist." This is why the only people who consider the Reformed doctrine to be "Real Presence" are the Reformed. Your opening paragraph initially deflects the entire discussion from this basic issue by choosing the novel Reformed definition over and against the historic one.

Williamson's argument that Eucharistic adoration is idolatrous because “it gives to a created thing the worship that belongs to the Creator alone” is also the same basis by which many Reformed dogmaticians (such as Beza) have denied that Christ is to be worshipped in both natures, but that we worship him only in his divine nature (dividing the person). This again (asserting that the adoration of the body of Christ is idolatry), is unique to Reformed theology and has no foundation in orthodox christology. It contradicts the Nicene Creed, which refers to Jesus Christ as he "by whom all things were made."

It is impossible to put the Reformed doctrine of the sacrament in the mainstream of Christian thought. One must, to vindicate the Reformed doctrine, assert and demonstrate that biblical christology was lost shortly after Constantine (and certainly by the 5th century) and that the true (i.e. Reformed) doctrine of the Sacrament was quickly obscured by heterodox notions of Real Presence.

Posted by: Josh S at April 30, 2004 10:26 AM

This is why I wanted you to critique my paper.

"...without a clear understanding of what that presence would effect." I guess this is what I get for writing my paper in the middle of the night. Perhaps I should have said something more to the effect of "I don't have a clear understanding, due to my upbringing, of what that presence would effect." But that's not exactly a thesis to base a paper on.

I still don't; perhaps over the summer, I'll take the suggestion of someone who commented via email and go back to the patristic sources. I just didn't have time to do that in one night. And our library is terrible in that area. (Although if you want the Princeton theologians, it's grrrr-eat! Moan.)

I didn't think I was arguing just for "a generic presence of Christ in the Eucharist." I was probably equivocating some, both since I was writing in a hurry and because I'm still so confused about this topic myself.

Other things:

-Lutherans don't practice Eucharistic adoration either, right? If this isn't the reason they use, what is? I would say that the reason it is false is that Christ's body and blood are only present in the actual act of eating and drinking, not in the elements apart from one's taking them in.

-I never denied that Christ is to be worshipped in both natures. Seems obvious to me, since you can't separate one from the other.

-I probably shouldn't have referenced Matt. 28:20 in the first paragraph. Placed in that context, it could suggest that I believe the Eucharist is only a sign of the presence of Christ's spirit with us, or something. I think it's more than that, but I don't know exactly what.

-I did criticize Williamson's view, and he's an ordained PCA elder. Did I not go far enough?

Finally:

I find it interesting, and slightly amusing, that you view this paper as too Reformed, whereas I got marked down by my prof for being suspiciously Roman (or something) and for not being charitable enough to Zwinglians/Anabaptists/generic evangelicals. If there were one thing about this paper I could change, it would be my paper about them, however, since I didn't actually read any of their sources or substantiate the claims I made about how their faith affects their practice.

Posted by: Evan Donovan at April 30, 2004 4:57 PM

Well, you should have said that Williamson is going to hell. That of course would have helped your paper.

Seriously, though, patristic sources are great. Chemnitz's "Lord's Supper" provides a good introduction to patristic thought concerning the nature and benefit of the Real Presence; about 70% of the book is compilation of and commentary on patristic sources, although certainly nothing can beat the primary sources. It's just that "the Fathers" encompasses such a huge range of material that it's nice to have some pointers. John Chrysostom, Cyril of Alexandria, and Gregory Nazianzus seem to be good sources.

Posted by: Josh S at May 1, 2004 12:22 AM

I'll check it out. I don't think our library here is too heavy on Chemnitz (ha ha - a little joke there), but I might be able to find him over the summer at the Lancaster Theological Seminary library. They may be hella liberal, but I hear they have a good selection of books.

What - so you're actually familiar with Williamson? I'd never heard of him till he turned up in my catalog search.

Posted by: Evan Donovan at May 1, 2004 1:25 AM

Respectfully, your bibliography seems a bit odd. I'm not very familiar with Thomas Merton, but his reputation in his own community is definitely that of a spiritual writer rather than of a theologian properly speaking. You might want to seek out a more systematic treatment of the Roman view (Catechism, Catholic Encyclopedia, third part of the Summa, etc).

Posted by: Fyodorovna at May 1, 2004 2:42 AM

Yeah, my bibliography is. The Covenant College library does that to you :)

Posted by: Evan Donovan at May 2, 2004 12:17 AM

I saw this when it was posted but decided not to consider it until finishing finals. In broad outline, your paper appears to make the following argument: Despite the fact that the Lord's Supper was intended to proclaim the unity of the church, it has failed to do so. This failure is due, in large part, to a philosophical controversy over the real presence. The solution to this is mutual recognition that the command instituting the Lord's Supper was not about reflection or contemplation, but about obedient observance.

The premise about proclaiming the unity of the church is true as far as it goes. However, your subsequent claim that this intended purpose has failed leads me to question your defintion of the church. In this context, the church should not be equated with professing Christendom. Rather, it is the elect within professing Christendom. Consider John 6, a key passage in the discussion over the real presence. Note that many of Jesus' disciples left him after he broached the subject. I doubt that Jesus was surprised; that this reaction wasn't what he had in mind. Nor am I convinced that a divinely ordained sacrament does not work exactly as intended.

Jumping ahead to the beginning of Merton's book and your list of Protestant disagrements. "The first of these is the substantial presence, if that is defined in the terms of transubstantiation." Previously, you had expressed your disagreement with this Catholic view based on " the distorted lens of Aristotelian philosophical categories." I'm not a fan of these categories; however, I would like to suggest that this is not the primary problem with transubstantiation. The problem is theological, not philosophical. It is the belief, which consistently follows from such a literalist view, that the elements of the Lord's Supper, once consecrated, work ex opere operato, that is, "by the work done." As to the second objection concerning the dependence on the words of a priest, this is valid. Be careful, though, that the objection is not stated too broadly. It could also be used to argue against the Confessional position that the sacraments are only to be administered my a minister of the Word properly ordained.

You mention Calvin's statement that Christ is present in the act of eating itself. But then, in the following paragraph, you miss the point, writing, "there is no presence of Christ in the sacramental elements apart from the actual sacramental action." This is not what Calvin said. The argument is not that the elements become the body and blood of Christ only upon being swallowed. The debate over the real presence concerns the nature of that presence, not the timing thereof. You go on to write, "Thus, when the elements are external to oneself, they cannot be worshipped." Are you suggesting that, once internalized, they can be? That, immediately after taking the Lord's Supper, we should gaze lovingly at our bellies? Reformed theology, when not under the influence of modern evangelicalism, does go beyond a mere memorial. It does affirm that the Lord's Supper is truly a sacrament, that it is a means of grace, and that Christ is really present. The presence, however, is in the sacrament, not in the sacramental elements.

Finally, the proposed solution, in which reflection is juxtaposed with action, presents a false dichotomy. Furthermore, if consistently applied, it falls into the same heretical trap as the Catholic view, which is that the effect of the sacrament is found in the work done. The average Catholic is not thinking in terms of substance and accidents. There is nothing more to it than the simple equation that taking the elements equals receiving grace. The only thing needed is obedient action to the command to take the Lord's Supper. Faith and repentance are not required. I'm having trouble seeing how Leithart's solution is any different. Not only faith and repentance, but reflection and examination on the meaning of the sacrament is essential to its efficacy (thus, the Confesional prohibition of paedocommunion). Earlier, you wrote of an overemphasis on the Reformed insistence on faith. I agree, especially when it gets into morbid introspection. But when this happens, it really isn't the fault of faith. The reflection is not to be on the enormity of our own sin, for then, the focus is self-centered. Instead, we are called to reflect on the greatness and meaning of Christ's sacrifice.

Posted by: Kevin at May 5, 2004 12:42 AM