Posts tagged: Eucharist

Eating Things Has Consequences

When God commanded Adam not to eat of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil and simultaneously provided a Tree of Life for their proper food, he was placing a covenantal meaning onto physical objects. The warning was that in the day they ate of the wrong tree, they would surely die. Did God follow up on his promise of consequence in a real way? Certainly. The day that Adam and Eve ate of the Tree, they died spiritually and became subject to physical death.

So in what way did the fruit of the Tree convey death to Adam and to the human race after him? Was the fruit toxic? Did it carry in it a hereditary disease? Not at all. The fruit itself was good for eating, for God created all things good. It was covenant commandment that was attached to the fruit that conveyed with it consequences. Adam brought death to himself and to his race by eating the fruit, but it was not the fruit that killed him. It was the covenant sanctions attached to disobedience that brought death.

Today, the Church also has a covenant food. A meal with blessings and curses attached to it. It has become common among even Reformed Christians to say that in the Lord’s Supper, nothing actually happens. The bread and wine do not physically become the body and blood of Jesus Christ, and therefore it would be superstitious to think that the bread and wine are anything special or that eating them might actually do anything to or for you, right? After all they are only useful as means to help us to remember Christ’s sacrifice.

But that is not how covenant food works. Paul tells us in 1 Corinthians that those who eat and drink unworthily eat and drink judgment to themselves. The reciprocal is also true. When we eat and drink rightly, we have true fellowship with Jesus Christ. Is it anything inherent in the bread and wine that brings this about? Not at all. But that does not diminish the use of bread and wine, for they are covenant symbols (there is nothing “mere” about a symbol) of what they represent, namely the body and blood of Jesus Christ. To dishonor the elements or to use them lightly is to dishonor Christ himself. Not because the elements have been mystically changed, but because they represent him as their covenant function.

A good analog might be the Reformed doctrine of imputation. When God justifies and declares us righteous, he does so on account of Jesus’ righteousness, in commendation of a righteousness we do not have in ourselves.  Even so, the covenant food is imputed or reckoned to be to us Christ’s body and blood.  It is the God the Holy Spirit who applies the reality of the sign so that it is as if you had eaten his flesh and drank his blood, as he says we must do in John 6.

Just as it is the Spirit that applies the reality of the sign, it is the Spirit that judges the use of the sign.  When Adam misused covenant food it was not the food that judged him, but God himself.  So also if we misuse our covenant food it is God who judges, not the food. There is no active causality in the food, but there is direct correlation.

But the Table of the Lord is intended for life. God has given us an easy enough guideline to follow for worthy partaking that even a child can do it. One who eats of the Church’s covenant food need not be sinless or especially knowledgeable. They must simply eat in faith and in fellowship, waiting for and upon one another in love. This is no forbidden fruit to bring us death. The covenant food is intended to bring life to those who eat it in covenant.  It must be taken in faith, yes, but also God strengthens faith through it.  Surely even faith so small as a mustard seed.

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“In Remembrance of Me”

We often take these words for granted when we hear them spoken at each communion.  But it is always good to think about what exactly we are to be remembering.  When Jesus broke bread with his disciples at the last supper, he commanded them to do likewise in remembrance of him. 1

Many times we simply assume that this means in remembrance of Jesus’ death on the cross.  After all, that commandment was given “on the night on which he was betrayed,” the evening before he went to the cross.  But at the same time, we should not turn the Lord’s Table into the commemoration of an event, for it is given to us to be the remembrance of a person.

Communion is given to us to remember Christ and all that he is.  Of course this includes remembering his primary earthly mission to die on the cross for the atonement of sin.  But in remembering the event we must not lose sight of the whole person.  There is a historical and eschatological aspect to what we do at the Table.  We must remember Jesus Christ—who he was, what he became, what he did, who he is and what he is doing now, and what he has yet promised to do.  Every time we eat and drink, we declare (in the present) Christ’s death (in the past) until he comes (in the future).  What Paul says here has a scope as broad as all of history, which requires the remembering of Christ’s whole person and work.

Therefore, we should not have an unhealthy preoccupation with Jesus’ suffering when we approach the table.  Yes, we remember it as an essential part of who he is and what he did on our behalf.  But that is not all he is.  When we remember Jesus, let us remember him as very God the Son, sent from the Father, who took on our human nature, who was sinless, who died for sin and rose again, who ascended to the right hand of the Father, who makes intercession, who meets with us in worship, who will come again to judge the living and the dead, and who will claim his bride, the Church, to close the final chapter of history.  If we neglect any of these things in communion and instead turn the Table into the memorial of a single event, then I think we do not properly remember Jesus Christ, the person.

Historically, the Eucharistic prayer has been specifically worded to remember Christ in this way.  In a full prayer, rather than reducing the remembrance only to Jesus’ betrayal and death, we remember Jesus the person and all he has done, is doing and will yet do.  This is not to say that we must have a written prayer that follows a strict wording preapproved by some hierarchical oversight (not to say there is anything inherently wrong with precomposed prayers either).  Justin Martyr describes the early Eucharistic prayers as extemporaneous.  But whether extemporaneous or precomposed, the prayer should be framed to deliberately remember and offer thanksgiving for and to Jesus Christ the person.

  1. There are some other issues that I would love to look at in the future but won’t deal with here, such as whether anamnesis should be translated “in remembrance of me” or “as my memorial,” and also whether poiete is imperative or indicative, which is itself an interesting discussion.
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Redeemed for What?

I was reading the Exodus story in the past couple days, and was struck by a few things that I want to share here.

The story of the deliverance of Israel from Pharaoh is a type for the deliverance of the Church from sin and death.  God comes to redeem His people, his chosen ones, and to bring them into a land flowing with milk and honey.  But as we read Exodus, we find that God early on gives a specific purpose for Israel to leave Egypt.

Afterward Moses and Aaron went and said to Pharaoh, “Thus says the LORD, the God of Israel, ‘Let my people go, that they may hold a feast to me in the wilderness.’” But Pharaoh said, “Who is the LORD, that I should obey his voice and let Israel go? I do not know the LORD, and moreover, I will not let Israel go.” Then they said, “The God of the Hebrews has met with us. Please let us go a three days’ journey into the wilderness that we may sacrifice to to the LORD our God, lest he fall upon us with pestilence or with the sword.”

~Exodus 5:1-3

There are a couple times before Israel’s final deliverance that Moses and Aaron make this less drastic request of Pharaoh.  And of course, as God had told Moses He would, He hardened Pharaoh’s heart against this request.  But I want to point out that there is a particular purpose in the request itself.  YHWH tells Pharaoh to let Israel go in order that they might hold a feast to Him.

Now, as we continue reading through the Pentateuch we find that a feast has a specific purpose.  It is not just a grand ol’ time where the people of God gorge themselves and get drunk like the pagans at their feasts.  Rather, it is a solemn occasion of remembrance.  Yes, the feasts are joyous celebrations, but they are held for one purpose: worship of the One True God.  So essentially, God is telling Pharaoh to let Israel go out into the wilderness to worship, and the means by which they are to worship is the feast.

When Moses restates YHWH’s demand, he makes this even clearer.  Now  rather than call it merely a feast, he says that they must go to sacrifice to YHWH.  The feast and the sacrifice are inextricably linked.

In the same way, God has redeemed us from the power of sin and death . . . for what?  To worship.  It is the expressly given purpose of our deliverance.  It is the chief goal of man’s existence, which we can only fulfill in Christ.  And when we gather as the Church to worship, we offer the sacrifice of our songs and praises, our acclamations, and of our very selves.  And we partake in a feast to the LORD our God, which Christ gave us at his last supper before going to the cross.

There is another interesting point we can glean from the various encounters with Pharaoh.  Initially, the demand is simply that he let God’s chosen people go out into the wilderness for three days to observe the feast and the sacrifice.  But we know, of course, that Pharaoh will not comply with these demands.  Not until his nation has been destroyed by plagues and he himself lies drowned in the Red Sea.  At that point the deliverance promised by God to Israel is complete.  It is not only for a short time that He delivers Israel to observe the feast, but it is a permanent deliverance.

Just so, when God commands us to worship, we cannot do so until He has ultimately delivered us.  There is no going to worship God and then returning to Egypt.  That is an impossibility.  Sin and death as principalities are cruel and unyielding masters that will not allow us to leave for a time, worship God and then return to them.  In order to engage in true worship, we must be freed in a permanent and ultimate way with no thought of going back to the place from which we came.

I think there is some significance to the three days journey into the wilderness even though the journey never happened as first asked of Pharaoh.  It is perhaps enough that Moses stated the three days as the original demand.  Israel must go into the wilderness for three days to make sacrifice.  Christ as the ultimate representative of Israel is the final fulfillment of this.  For on behalf of His chosen people, after instituting the feast of the Lord’s Supper He journeyed into the wilderness of death for three days, Himself being the final sacrifice to atone for sin.

There is one more thing I want to bring out from this part of the Exodus story.  Sometimes Pharaoh seems to be on the verge of complying with the demand of YHWH, but he always seems to put limits on his obedience.  At one point, Pharaoh even tells Moses that he will let the people go . . . but there’s a catch:

Then Pharaoh’s servants said to him, “How long shall this man be a snare to us? Let the men go, that they may serve the LORD their God. Do you not yet understand that Egypt is ruined?” So Moses and Aaron were brought back to Pharaoh. And he said to them, “Go, serve the LORD your God. But which ones are to go?” Moses said, “We will go with our young and our old. We will go with our sons and daughters and with our flocks and herds, for we must hold a feast to the LORD.”

But he said to them, “The LORD be with you, if ever I let you and your little ones go! Look, you have some evil purpose in mind. No! Go, the men among you, and serve the LORD, for that is what you are asking.” And they were driven out from Pharaoh’s presence.

~Exodus 10:7-11

Pharaoh will allow Israel to go . . . but only the men.  It is as if Pharaoh says, “Isn’t that enough?  Your covenant heads may go and worship and sacrifice.  The children need not.”

No doubt some will point out that he simply wished to keep the children behind as a guarantee that his slaves would actually return.  And as far as Pharaoh is concerned this is probably true.  But I think there is more than just that going on here.  Moses will not concede these limits put on God’s demands, and he gives the reason.  The whole family unit must be allowed to go.  The men, the young and old, their sons and daughters must go . . . why?  For we must hold a feast to the LORD.

What does this tell us about how God regards the children of believers in relation to worship?  Simply this: they must be included in the worship of God’s people, and in the feast.  It is not right for the parents to worship and leave the children aside.  God wants even the little ones to observe the feast and the sacrifice.  The old and young, our sons and daughters alike must be taught to worship.  It is for this reason that He redeems the little ones as much as the men (the covenant heads) from sin and death, just as He would not accept that Israel’s little ones should be left in the hands of Pharaoh.

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Anamnesis: “Make Present,” or just “Remember”?

There are basically two ways of translating “anamnesis,” which is the word Christ uses in the institution of the Lord’s Supper when he says “do this in remembrance of me,” or “do this as my memorial.”

They mean basically the same thing, but the emphasis is different.  In any case, tied to the word anamnesis is the issue of remembering.  In a Eucharistic or Old Testament sacrificial context, it is the remembering of what God has done for his people and offering of oneself to him in return.  It is thanksgiving.

But what does it mean to remember?  Is remembrance a mere cognitive exercise, or is there something more to it?  Of course today, when we use the word, we generally mean simply to bring a past event to mind.  But is this a Biblical view of remembrance?

In his milestone work, The Shape of the Liturgy, Dom Gregory Dix modified the Roman Catholic suggestion of re-sacrifice1 in the Eucharist to something a little less offensive to the Biblical mind.  Or much less so.  He defines remembrance as the act of making present.2

According to Dix, when the church remembers the sacrifice of Christ in the Eucharist, they are recalling it not only to mind, but also to present effect.  Remembrance brings the effects of a past event to bear on the present.  It identifies one directly with those people for whom that past event was a present reality.

Of course, since the popularization of this view, Roman Catholics have been using it to stump their Protestant friends who accuse them of viewing the Eucharist as a re-sacrifice.  “Why, no we don’t!  We believe it is simply a making present of the past sacrifice.”

Well, yeah, that’s true as far as it goes, but that’s only because they changed their tune.  Of course, they still believe it means to make physically present . . . though not locally, and that is where we go down the rabbit trail of medieval categories.

But aside from the dissonance, what about the basic melody of this new tune?  Is it any more pleasant than the last?  Let’s take a look.

First there is the language of how God himself remembers.

Genesis 9:15
I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh. And the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh.

Exodus 2:24
And God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob.

There are many other similar examples.  And there is one interesting example that seems to have a very strong relation to God’s presence.

Numbers 10:9
And when you go to war in your land against the adversary who oppresses you, then you shall sound an alarm with the trumpets, that you may be remembered before the LORD your God, and you shall be saved from your enemies.

We should realize by now that Biblically speaking, remembrance is more than a cognitive recollection.  God certainly does not need to be cognitively reminded of his people or covenants.  He knows all, and he does not forget.  We should also note that when God remembers, it is always a catalyst to action.  The remembrance and the resulting action are so inseparable as to be one and the same.

So what about human remembrance?  How does God command us to remember?

Deuteronomy 15:15
You shall remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and the LORD your God redeemed you; therefore I command you this today.

Was this command for that generation of the Exodus only?  This is after the forty years wandering in the wilderness.  An entire generation perished because of unbelief.  Most of those to whom Deuteronomy was given never saw slavery in Egypt.  How can they then rightly remember that God delivered them?  This is a question made all the more stark when we consider that the memorial sacrifices and feasts were to be observed by Israel continually.  Was the celebration of Passover by succeeding generations a mere cognitive exercise or was it an act of identification with God’s deliverance?

I read this passage a couple weeks ago, and found it quite interesting.  Pay attention especially to the pronouns.

Deuteronomy 26:3-10
“And you shall go to the priest who is in office at that time and say to him, ‘I declare today to the LORD your God that I have come into the land that the LORD swore to our fathers to give us.’ Then the priest shall take the basket from your hand and set it down before the altar of the LORD your God.

“And you shall make response before the LORD your God, ‘a wandering Aramean was my father. And he went down into Egypt and sojourned there, few in number, and there he became a nation, great, mighty, and populous. And the Egyptians treated us harshly and humiliated us and laid on us hard labor. Then we cried to the LORD, the God of our fathers, and the LORD heard our voice and saw our affliction, our toil, and our oppression. And the LORD brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with great deeds of terror, with signs and wonders. And he brought us into this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. And behold, now I bring the first of the fruit of the ground, which you, O LORD, have given me.’

Notice how the perspective shifts in the act of remembrance.  The one offering thanksgiving here moves from a sort of separation between himself and his fathers to the point where speaks of himself and his fathers as one identity.  “A wandering Aramean was my father . . . he went down into Egypt” becomes “the Egyptians treated us harshly . . . the LORD brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand . . . and gave us this land.”

See how the identity of Israel as a people converge into one identity.  What God did for the fathers he did for the one who offers thanksgiving.  The suffering of the fathers is to be remembered as the suffering of the one who makes sacrifice, so that the deliverance of God might be known for all generations.

How does this apply to us?  Well, if Abraham is our father, we must do the same.  The deliverance of Israel we must recognize as our own.  The word of the prophets called us to repentance.  And finally, Jesus died and rose again for us.  When we celebrate the Lord’s Supper, we make present that reality in the sense that we identify ourselves with the sacrifice of Christ.  In remembrance, the Holy Spirit really (spiritual realities are real no less than the physical) applies to us the effects of the sacrifice.

Benjamin Warfield, in speaking of the Lord’s Supper, wrote this:

Assuredly, for example, the sacrificial feast is not a repetition of the sacrifice; and equally certainly it is something more than a mere commemoration of the sacrifice: it is specifically a part of the sacrifice, and more particularly this part—the application of it. . . . Precisely what our Lord did therefore . . . he, the true Passover, the Lamb of God, that takes away the sin of the world—was to establish a perpetual sacrificial feast, under universal forms, capable of observation everywhere and at all times . . . All who partake of this bread and wine, the appointed symbols of his body and blood, therefore, are symbolically partaking of the victim offered on the altar of the cross, and are by this act professing themselves offerers of the sacrifice and seeking to become beneficiaries of it. That is the fundamental significance of the Lord’s Supper.  Whenever the Lord’s Supper is spread before us we are invited to take our place at the sacrificial feast, the substance of which is the flesh and blood of the victim which has been sacrificed once for all at Calvary . . . 3

So then, with Dix, we might affirm that remembrance is indeed a making present to us the reality of Christ’s one sacrifice, and with Warfield, who it appears would agree with that, we say that it is the application of the sacrifice to the one who partakes.

Anamnesis, then, is the recollection to us the realities of the past in such a way that they may no longer be thought of to be a mere past reality brought to mind, but a present one as well.

There are more things to look at in this.  For instance, how our celebration of the Supper brings us to God’s remembrance, and so into his presence.  I don’t want anyone to think I overlooked that.  Dix deals with this at length, and to properly address Dix, we have to consider that sense of the word.  But this is enough for one post.  I’ll probably look at this again.

Genesis 9:15
I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh. And the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh.
  1. Marked for revision.  I don’t think the Roman Catholic Church ever calls the eucharist a “re-sacrifice.”  Thanks, Geoffrey, for pointing this out.
  2. Dix, Dom Gregory. 1945. The Shape of the Liturgy. London: Continuum
  3. Warfield, Benjamin, “The Fundamental Significance of the Lord’s Supper
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