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.

Did Paul Teach the Imputation of Christ’s Righteousness?

This is an unavoidable question from my last couple posts on Paul and Romans. Does the apostle Paul teach the Reformed doctrine of imputation?  One might come to the conclusion that I don’t think he does, based on my post on “Perishing Apart from the Law.” And one would be correct.  Sort of.  It’s not so clear-cut as that, since the question is actually asking two things.  So let me lay out clearly what I think, at least at this point.

First, it’s necessary to define the Reformed doctrine of the imputation of the righteousness of Christ.  Here’s how I would define it:

A sinner is justified by God, not because of any merit of his own that might be brought to judgment as righteousness, but only for the sake of the righteousness of Jesus Christ laid to the sinner’s account.  God, as the just judge, when he looks upon a redeemed and believing sinner, sees instead the righteousness of Christ and on that grounds alone justifies.

I think that is a satisfactory definition.  If anyone has anything to add to it, feel free to comment.

So, to our question—or actually, questions, which might have very different answers:

• Does Paul teach this doctrine?
• Does Paul have this doctrine in mind when he uses the word “impute”?

I must answer “yes” to the first question and “no” to the second.  I believe Paul does teach that Christ’s work of righteousness stands in place of our own before God, since we have nothing of our own to offer.  However, I think Paul is talking about something else, something more general when he talks about imputation, especially in Romans 5.  So there is “imputation” in the Reformed sense, and there is “imputation” in the Pauline sense, which I don’t believe are quite the same thing, but nevertheless do not exclude each other.

First the Pauline.  In Romans 5:13 Paul says that sin is not imputed where there is no law.  This cannot be in reference either to the accounting of Adam’s sin to fallen mankind, nor to the accounting of Christ’s righteousness to justified man.  It would render the Reformed doctrine nonsensical if there were an entire stretch of generations to which imputation in the Reformed sense does not apply (to say nothing of its implications for the Gentiles, who, Paul appears to be arguing, are under the same paradigm as those generations between Adam and Moses).  Therefore, it must be the imputation of man’s sin to his own account.  I believe this is also the sense in which Psalm 32:1-2 (quoted in Romans 4:7-8) speaks.

For Paul, imputation is not necessarily a transfer of sin or righteousness from one account to the other.  Rather, imputation is the accounting itself of the thing, regardless of where it originally came from.  If your sin is imputed to you, then God holds you especially accountable for what you’ve done.  You are counted as a transgressor.  This is what Paul means when he says that sin is not imputed where there is no law.  Yes, sin persisted during this period, and was strong enough to maintain the associated reign of death.  But sin was not imputed because there was no transgression of stated commandments.¹

In Romans 5:20, the law comes in through Moses so that transgression and resulting guilt might be increased.  That is, with the coming of the law, sin is then imputed, thereby making the sinner accountable under the law.  This is the same situation as the Gentile who was once perishing apart from the law and then learns of the law as a God-fearer (which is, by the way, what I believe Romans 7 is describing).

Similarly, when Paul says in Romans 4:3 that “Abraham believed God and it was imputed to him as righteousness,” we must not insist that “it” refers to the alien righteousness of Christ transferred to Abraham’s account, for the idea is nowhere found in the context.  Rather the picture we get is as if Abraham had faith (given by God through the work of the Spirit) and in lieu of any deeds by which he might otherwise be declared righteous—indeed, Paul points out, before the law of circumcision had even been given that he might keep it—God says, “I’ll take that; consider yourself justified.”

By the means of  faith then, Abraham apprehended God’s promises to him and to his seed, just as we receive the promises of God through a true and living faith in Jesus.  As with Abraham, this faith itself is credited to us by God as righteousness, apart from any works of the law.  This is what I believe Paul is talking about when he talks about imputation.

So what about imputation in the Reformed doctrinal sense?  Does Paul teach that we are justified on the grounds of Christ’s righteousness alone?  He certainly does.  God’s declaration of righteousness on us is a free gift that was attained by Christ’s work alone.

And the free gift is not like the result of that one man’s sin. For the judgment following one trespass brought condemnation, but the free gift following many trespasses brought justification. For if, because of one man’s trespass, death reigned through that one man, much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ.  Therefore, as one trespass led to condemnation for all men, so one act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all men.
Romans 5:16-18

Here we see Christ’s “act of righteousness” is what leads to our justification.  In a Reformed theological sense, we might say that it is imputed to us.  As a side, I must insist that Romans 5:18 is speaking of a single act that attains justification, otherwise it destroys the parallel to Adam’s one trespass.  It is one act of righteousness that makes the whole thing possible.  Imputation of Christ’s life-work not explicitly found here.

What was this single righteous act?  Paul has already told us in Romans 5:8-9.

. . . but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God.

We are justified by Christ’s blood.  This does not necessarily obliterate the idea of the imputation of Christ’s active obedience, but I would say Paul makes no such distinction.  Justification is more organic than taking a log entry from one roll and arbitrarily transferring it to another in order to settle the books.  The key is that we are placed “in Christ.”  For Romans 4-7 is Paul’s entire argument to bring us to one conclusion:

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.
Romans 8:1

This is the grounds for our justification.  For if we are in Christ, then all that he is has become ours.  That is our imputation.  When we by faith receive Christ, God regards all that is Christ’s as ours, for we are in him.  How are we placed in him?  Romans 6 gives us this answer: by baptism, and all that it represents.

Whether Romans 6 is speaking of water baptism, or only of “spirit baptism,” or both, is a topic for another discussion, but whichever it is speaking of, this baptism is the means by which we are placed in Christ, by which we receive his righteousness to our account, and are therefore judged righteous before God.

Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.  For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. For one who has died has been set free from sin. Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him. For the death he died he died to sin, once for all, but the life he lives he lives to God. So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.
Romans 6:3-11

Does this render the Reformed doctrine of imputation “redundant” with union with Christ?  Not at all.  Rather, with this understanding, imputation and forensic justification are the inevitable result of our vital union with Christ and his covenant headship.  That is, union and imputation are related but distinct concepts.

It was Jonathan Edwards who said:

“The atonement worked by Jesus’ life and death is achieved by such a community of him and us that if the Father loves the Son, he must love us also.” ²

We might take this thought and apply it just as legitimately to forensic justification.  If we are found “in Christ,” as Paul says, then because of that union, if the Father regards the Son as righteous, then He must justify us also.

. . . for in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God, through faith. For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ.
Galatians 3:26-27

If we are united to Christ his righteousness must appear on our account because his account and ours are the same account.

So does Paul teach the Reformed doctrine of imputation?  Yes.  He just doesn’t call it that.

What Luther (et al.) Didn’t Know

When Luther and many of the Reformers read Galatians, they naturally saw it in the light of their contemporary situation.  The Roman Catholic Church was in effect perpetuating a practical doctrine of works righteousness.  Do this, and have assurance of salvation.  Pay your indulgences, and shave years off your time in Purgatory.¹

So when the Reformers read Galatians and how a man is justified through faith in Jesus Christ, rather than by “works of the law,” this naturally seemed to be speaking directly to the abuses of the church in their day.  Is it a legitimate application of Galatians?  Certainly!  Paul’s epistle does indeed condemn any doctrine that would claim grounds for justification other than faith in Jesus Christ.

But another question is this: was that the situation of Paul’s day?  Was Paul dealing with 1st century Jews who were attempting to earn (merit) their way to heaven through good works?  I think not.  Reading Paul with the assumption that he was dealing with the same abuses in his day as the Reformers were in the 15th century led Luther and others, and still leads many, to stumble over other passages, such as the book of James.

Some recent discoveries in the last century shed new light on the 1st century Jewish situation and their general attitude toward the Law and justification.  The one I want to focus on here is a Jewish hymn from the “Community Rule” scroll (1QS11) found at Qumran in 1949.  This was one of the first discoveries of the so-called Dead Sea Scrolls.

First some background.  The Qumran community is thought by most to have been a community of Essene Jews.  Of all the Jewish sects, the Essenes were the most conservative.  They separated themselves from the rest of the world in order to remain pure, they abstained from sexual relations, they kept strict community rules that even the Pharisees would have balked at, they had complex systems of ritual purification, and they did not recognize the Hellenized Temple cult because they considered it corrupt.

They were the strictest of the strict in the 1st century Jewish world and had harsh penalties for violations.  If anyone would espouse a doctrine of justification by works, it would be them.²  So if we read their writings, we would expect to get merit x10.  Earn your way straight into the Kingdom (or else)!

Instead, in one marvelous example of 1st century Jewish hymnody, we get this:

As for me,
my justification is with God.
in His hand are the perfection of my way
and the uprightness of my heart.
He will wipe out my transgression
through his righteousness.

For my light has sprung
from the source of His knowledge;
my eyes have beheld his marvelous deeds,
and the light of my heart, the mystery to come.
He that is everlasting
is the support of my right hand;
the way of my steps is over stout rock
which nothing shall shake;
for the rock of my steps is the truth of God
and His might is the support of my right hand.

From the source of his righteousness
is my justification,
and from His marvellous mysteries
is the light in my heart.
. . .

My iniquities, rebellions, and sins,
together with the perversity of my heart,
belong to the company of worms
and to those who walk in darkness.
For mankind has no way,
and man is unable to establish his steps
since justification is with God
and perfection of way is out of His hand.
All things come to pass by His knowledge;
He establishes all things by His design
and without Him nothing is done.

As for me,
if I stumble, the mercies of God
shall be my eternal salvation.
If I stagger because of the sin of flesh,
my justification shall be
by the righteousness of God which endures forever.
When my distress is unleashed
He will deliver my soul from the Pit
and will direct my steps to the way.
He will draw me near by His grace,
and my His mercy will He bring my justification.
. . .

Blessed art Thou my God,
who openest the heart of Thy servant to knowledge!
Establish all his deeds in righteousness;
and as it pleases Thee to do for the elect of mankind,
grant that the son of They handmaid
may stand before Thee forever.
For without Thee no way is perfect,
and without Thy will nothing is done.

When I first read this years ago, it was a real eye opener.  Wow, where did that come from?  This does not look like the picture of Judaism that Luther and so many others painted. This hymn could almost have been written or sung by the apostle Paul.  Writings like this should make us think again about how we view the 1st century Jews.

And in all fairness, it isn’t the fault of Luther and the Reformers that they did not have a better understanding of 1st century Judaism.  They didn’t have the benefit of discoveries like the Dead Sea Scrolls.  And many of the Jews in the time of the Reformation, in a post-Temple existence did in fact hold to a merit-based view of the kingdom.³

And I think therein lies the key.  There is a marked difference between the pre and post-Temple Jewish existence, and so we should read phrases like “works of the law” with this in mind.  I am not saying that we should force an extra-biblical view onto the biblical text.  Rather, we must hear the biblical text with 1st century ears.

What would a man who wrote or sang the hymn of 1QS11 have said is necessary for justification?  Would he say that one needed to do enough good works to earn or merit salvation?  Certainly not!  The text of the hymn is clear.  It’s almost proto-Pauline in its view of man’s basic relationship to God.  Man is totally unable to establish his way, and he “belongs to the company of worms.”  Salvation is of God’s mercy alone.  Only God is able to justify, and the grounds for man’s justification is God’s own righteousness!  So to the 1st century Jews, the idea that one could not earn salvation was by no means a new idea, nor one with which they really would have had any disagreement.

On the other hand, would the writer of this hymn have said that the “works of the law” were necessary for justification?  If he were an Essene, or anything close to it, I think he would have.  And this is what Paul takes issue with.  Even as the Jew sings of justification coming from God, he assumes one thing: in order to attain to the the glorious state that the hymn expresses, you must be Jewish.  And to be a Jew, you obviously must be of the circumcision, which is the first basic “work of the law.”

This is clear from the context of the hymn.  The rest of the “Community Rule” scroll is filled with condemnations against apostates (the Sadducees and Pharisees of Jesus’ day) and reveals the stifling sectarian exclusivity of the community, which they considered to be the only pure assembly.  Is that in conflict with the hymn itself?  A Qumran sectarian would not have thought so (though we certainly would, reading through the lens of Paul).  Jewishness was basic to them, not because of some ethnic megalomania, but because it was the Jews who were under the blood of sacrifice.  Even the Qumran sect, while rejecting the Hellenized Temple cult, looked forward to the coming of “The Righteous One” who would purge and purify the Temple.  To Israel belonged the Temple and the sacrifices to atone for sin, or so they thought.  And that was why they believed they could claim that God justified them apart from their own righteousness and yet at the same time require that Gentiles become Jewish (come “under the law”) in order to enter the Kingdom.  Because in their mind, the sacrifices applied to those of the circumcision.

This is where Paul interjects.  No, he says, you do not have to be Jew!  With the ultimate sacrifice of Jesus Christ, who was prefigured by the Old Covenant sacrifices, the shadows are passing away.  The realization of all that was promised has come.  The circumcision is not the line that separates the justified from the unrighteous, and it never really was.  Rather, it is and always has been faith in Jesus Christ.  The blood of Jesus’ sacrifice applies not only to those of the circumcision, but rather to all who believe in Christ and confess Him.

There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.
Galatians 3:28

Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all.
Colossians 3:11

For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; for the same Lord is Lord of all, bestowing his riches on all who call on him. For “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”
Romans 10:12-13

So were the Reformers wrong?  What does this say about our traditional application of Paul against merited salvation and works-righteousness?  Is it still valid?  I think it is.  Paul’s insistence on faith in Jesus Christ as the instrument of justification does indeed by necessity exclude a meritorious role for our righteousness.  Even if that is not the exact issue that he is addressing.

What difference does it make?  Well, it gives us a more nuanced understanding of what Paul means by “works of the law.”  He is not speaking about a belief that one can earn their way into heaven.  He is not even speaking of “good works” in general.  And so we need not pull our hair out and engage in mental and exegetical gymnastics to synthesize Paul with James. The “works of the law” that Paul talks about are not the same thing as the “works” that James speaks of when he says “a person is justified by works, and not by faith alone.”

As when we read the 1st century Jews, we should not take the plain sense of James 2:24 to mean that one might earn or merit their salvation.  I believe the basic difference between Paul’s “works of the law” which do not justify and James’ “works” which do, is this:

Paul’s “works of the law” deals with those who would make being Jewish—being “under the law”—a requirement for justification; James is dealing with those who espouse belief and show no fruit.  Paul’s theme is faith in Jesus Christ apart from the “works of the Torah”; James’ point is faith in Jesus Christ that results in good “works.”  “Works of the law” cannot justify; good “works” flowing from faith in Jesus Christ are required for justification.

Does that imply meritorious earning?  Not at all.  It is all of grace, through faith.  And so we may say with the Reformers: Sola Fide . . . just as long as we qualify that fides sine operibus non fide.⁴

FOOTNOTES:

Regulative Principle and Weekly Communion, with some thoughts on the Calendar

There are many good and Biblical reasons for Christians to gather at the Lord’s Table in Communion to celebrate Eucharist every week.  But for this post I just want to focus on the reasons for doing so based on the Reformed Regulative Principle of worship.  In particular, I want to use a common objection to the Church Calendar and reapply it to the issue of the regular celebration of the Eucharist.

A great deal of emphasis in discussion of Regulative Principle is placed on what is not commanded for worship, and the prohibition of those things.  But I think we often overlook what is commanded when we look at the subject of Lord’s Day worship.

In regards to the Sabbath law of the fourth commandment, the Reformers were particularly concerned that any day might become more important than the Sabbath rest.  This is a legitimate concern in some ways, especially regarding discussions of the Church Calendar.  How many nominal Christians go to worship only on Easter and Christmas?  Or, even if they regularly attend, how many become more fervent at those times of year than at others?

Is Pascha or Christmas inherently any more holy of a day than a Lord’s Day in the middle of “ordinary time”?  I would argue not, and I’ll probably want to address my reasoning for that at a later date.

But in looking into those questions, another thing struck me.  If we want to take care not to elevate any day over the Sabbath, or even one Sabbath day over another, then what does this say for the widespread tradition of celebrating communion only monthly, or in some cases, even quarterly or annually?  Does this not elevate those Sabbaths above all others?  Have you ever seen in a church service bulletin the reminder: Next week is communion Sunday.  Please prepare your heart during the week and make certain to attend.

Even if the intent is not to elevate those days above others, doesn’t this lend itself to the idea that those days are more holy (set apart) than other Sabbaths?

My intent is not to condemn those who do not celebrate communion weekly as “Sabbath breakers.”  We all fall short in many ways, and we all must serve and worship God to the best of our understanding.  I only want to suggest that perhaps . . . just perhaps the Regulative Principle of worship that so many Reformed Christians hold to, if followed consistently, requires that the Lord’s Supper be celebrated every week in order to maintain equality of holiness from each Lord’s Day to the next.

Furthermore, I believe that if communion were viewed as indispensable and central to each worship service, a great part of the tendency some feel to inappropriately elevate Church Calendar days would simply evaporate.  Because every Lord’s Day would be holy to the Lord, a day in which we meet Christ in His Word and dine with Him at His table.

I’ll conclude with this quote from the Westminster Confession of Faith:

Chapter XXI.V
The reading of the Scriptures with godly fear, the sound preaching and conscionable hearing of the Word, in obedience unto God, with understanding, faith and reverence, singing of psalms with grace in the heart; as also, the due administration and worthy receiving of the sacraments instituted by Christ, are all parts of the ordinary religious worship of God: beside religious oaths, vows, solemn fastings, and thanksgivings upon special occasions, which are, in their several times and seasons, to be used in an holy and religious manner.

Note those practices that are “ordinary religious worship” as distinct from those that are “beside.”  To use my earlier definition of the word “ordinary,” I would say that the practices listed as such—reading of Scripture, preaching, hearing of the Word, singing of psalms, and due administration of sacraments—are to be regular weekly occurrences in the worship of each Lord’s Day.