I recently reread Romans 8 in its immediate context.  It’s interesting how we often take the classic verse referring to our acquittal and justification (Romans 8:1) out of the context which follows it.  I think it is worth another look:

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death. For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do. By sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit. For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit. For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God’s law; indeed, it cannot. Those who are in the flesh cannot please God. You, however, are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him.

~Romans 8:1-9

Okay, so let’s break this section down and follow Paul’s line of reasoning.  He begins the section by telling us that there is no condemnation for those who are “in Christ Jesus.”  This is consistent with Paul’s language elsewhere of being “in Christ,” vitally and covenantally (Romans 6).  To be “in Christ Jesus,” then, is to be justified.  We no longer stand condemned before God.  But that is not where Paul stops.  In the next eight verses he goes further.

For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death.

The “For” (γὰρ) here does not necessarily mean that this presents a cause to the lack of condemnation.  It is likely that Paul is elaborating on the further results of the justification we have already received in Christ.  Cranfield takes it as “confirmation of the reality of the fundamental liberation described in v. 1.”¹  Douglas Moo, on the other hand, takes “for” here to indicate the “basis on which the person ‘in Christ’ is forever saved from condemnation” (i.e. justification), and this is probably the reason he must interpret certain subsequent phrases as he does.²

We often say without much thought that we have been freed from the bondage of the Law by grace.  Christ has taken upon himself to obey the Law in its entirety, and so fulfilled the “righteous requirement” of the law himself in our place.  His works are accounted to us.  This is all true (see my post on imputation in Paul), and I actually appealed to Romans 8:1 to show this.  But the following verses also show us that this is not the whole story.  Paul tells us here that we are freed from the law by the law.  Specifically, we are freed from the “law of sin and death” by the “law of the Spirit of life.”  So often the law is spoken of only as a condemning imprisoning entity, which we must escape.  Usually it is Romans 7:6 that is quoted, which speaks of us being released from the law.  How then does Paul speak of the law as being the thing that has freed us?

First, one may argue, as Douglas Moo does, that Paul here is not even speaking of “law” in the Torah sense.  It is possible Paul is using the word to refer to an abstract principle or power.³  In which case we do not have such a difficult passage here, at least in the first couple of verses.  With this reading, we would say that the principle (or power) of the Spirit of life has freed us from the principle of sin and death.  Indeed, Paul speaks of sin and death and cosmic powers which are defeated by Christ.  And if all we had were the first couple of verses in Romans 8 we might read it this way and be very comfortable.  But Paul does not stop there.

For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do.

Can Paul really be speaking of some sort of abstract principle?  Here he refers to “the law,” which is deficient because it has been “weakened by the flesh.”  This is strikingly in line with how he often speaks of the Mosaic law and administration.  In fact, he is referring back directly to Romans 7:14.  “For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin.”  The law is spiritual, but fallen humanity is of the flesh.  The deficiency then is not inherent to the law, but is found in our sinful unregenerate natures.  If we take the “law” of vv. 2 and 3 of chapter 8 to mean the same thing (and I see no good reason in the text why we should not), then we must conclude that Paul is speaking specifically in this section of the law as given by God (i.e. the Mosaic law, under the Old Covenant).  This becomes even more clear immediately in the next verse:

By sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.

God condemns the sin in the flesh through Christ, who took on himself the just punishment for sin, though sinless.  And what is the result—or rather, the purpose—of this?  “In order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us“!  Well, this is something unexpected, is it not?

We are used to saying that Christ has fulfilled the righteous requirements of the law on our behalf.  Sin has totally corrupted us, and we have no ability to fulfill the law.  Christ must do it for us.  Even as redeemed and saved people, we cannot obey the law perfectly, which is perfectly evident, since we know that we fail and sin constantly.  1 John tells us that if we say we are without sin, we are liars!  So what can Paul mean by saying that the righteous requirement of the law is fulfilled in us?

Perhaps he means that the law is fulfilled by Christ and that we simply receive the benefits?  Again, this is how Moo reads this section.⁴  After all, Paul says the requirement of the law is fulfilled in us, not by us.  In this case, it is still Christ’s obedience to the law that is in view.  We are simply vessels of that fulfillment, the evidence of Christ’s work done.  However, I am not convinced this is the best reading of this verse.

First of all, this would be a rather curious and round about way of expressing that idea.  But more than that, is what Paul says in clarification of this fulfillment.  The righteous requirement of the law is fulfilled in whom?  In those “who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.”  The fulfillment of the law in us is directly related to how we walk.  And again, immediately after, Paul continues:

For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit.

Paul is concerned with how we walk and how we live.  And again he uses the contrast of the Spirit and the flesh.  If we walk and live according to the Spirit, we put to death the deeds of the flesh (Romans 8:13).  Remember again what Paul said in v.2.  The law is deficient because of the flesh.  But if we put to death the flesh, as Paul says we must do, then this deficiency is no more:

For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God’s law; indeed, it cannot. Those who are in the flesh cannot please God. You, however, are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you.

Again the contrast.  In the flesh we cannot please God, but in the Spirit we are able.  Paul says that those in the flesh are hostile to God, specifically because this one “does not submit to God’s law; indeed it cannot.”  The implication then is that the one who is in the Spirit does live in submission to God’s law, and so is able to please him.  In a similar way, in Galatians 6:2 Paul exhorts us to “fulfill the law of Christ.”

If the Spirit of God dwells in us we are freed from the law of sin and death!  The law of the Spirit has liberated us.  In case we should mistake him, he emphasizes that all who are in Christ must also be in the Spirit and have the Spirit:

Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him.

So then.  The righteous requirement of the law is fulfilled in us through our walk and our living in the Spirit.  Does this diminish grace?  Certainly not.  The very fact that we are in the Spirit is because of God’s grace, and only through the instrument of faith.  In Ephesians 2:10, Paul makes it clear that even our works done in the Lord are “prepared for us” beforehand.  It is God who works in us to will and work his good pleasure (Philippians 2:13).  In this sense, the good works we do in Christ are truly Christ’s works, graciously given to us.  Do we continue to sin?  Certainly we do.  But our sin is covered by the perfect blood of the Lamb.  We are in Christ, and so God continues to look on us with grace and favor.

What then is the implication for imputation (in the classical Reformed sense of the word)?  Christ’s work is indeed accounted to us, because we are united to him.  It must be, for we certainly do not bring anything to the deal in terms of our own works.  Even in this very section, Paul makes clear that in the flesh (before we are regenerated) it is impossible to please God.  But in Christ, all that is Christ is ours.  With him as our covenant representative (Romans 5), in the court of heaven the just judge cannot do otherwise but to justify us.  This is, as it were, a down payment.  It is a totally unmerited justification, based solely on our identification with Christ.

Having now been placed in Christ, we continue in that state of no-condemnation, for we show forth the walk and the living of one who is in Christ and has his Spirit.  Paul says that for us who walk in the Spirit, the righteous requirement of the law is fulfilled in us.  This, also, is totally unmerited justification, again based solely on our identification with Christ.  Yet it is not another justification, or a rejustification.  Rather, it is the outworking and continuing effect of that one declaration of God—it is faith made perfect (as in James 2:22, “faith completed” in ESV).  The good works we do cannot even be said to be truly our own.  They are not of ourselves, for only the works done in faith can truly be called “good.”  And just like faith, God has given these works to us and prepared them ahead of time that we should do them.  You cannot claim a gift as your own merit, particularly to the person who gave it to you. ⁵

In this way, then, the law has set us free from the law.

This law is not essentially a different law.  It still has righteous requirements, and still must be fulfilled.  Instead, it is we who are different.  We once made the law weak through the flesh, and so could not fulfill it.  But God did what the law in that state could not do, condemning the flesh and giving us his Spirit so that we could walk and live before him.

Is Paul saying then that we are saved by works?  Not at all.  For only the saved can work.  Only in the already-transformed are the righteous requirements of the law fulfilled.

Just want to end by saying that this is still an area of study for me, and I’m open to any thoughts and interactions.  So please feel free to comment!

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.

I had intended to first look at the Church Calendar from an Old Testament point of view, as well as from a Christian conception of time. I still want to do that, but first I think it might be good to take a look at the practical effects and uses of the Church Year.

Much has been said of the “pagan origins” of certain Christian holidays.  The one that springs immediately to mind is Halloween (All Hallow’s Eve), stemming from the Celtic Samhain.  Other holidays that receive objections of paganism are Christmas and even Easter (Pascha).  We look at these origins and wonder, why did the Church adopt pagan festival days for its Christian holidays?  One view is that this was an error of the Roman Church, which was synchretizing with the paganism of the world and corrupting itself.

I suggest there is another more Biblical way of looking at it—namely, that the Church Year is, in fact, the apostle Paul’s Mars Hill apologetic applied on an epic scale.  So let’s take a look at what exactly Paul does at Mars Hill in Acts 17.

“Men of Athens, I perceive that in every way you are very religious. For as I passed along and observed the objects of your worship, I found also an altar with this inscription, ‘To the unknown god.’ What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you. The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in temples made by man, nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything. And he made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place, that they should seek God, in the hope that they might feel their way toward him and find him. Yet he is actually not far from each one of us, for

“‘In him we live and move and have our being’;

as even some of your own poets have said,

“‘For we are indeed his offspring.’

Being then God’s offspring, we ought not to think that the divine being is like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of man. The times of ignorance God overlooked, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent, because he has fixed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed; and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead.”

Now when they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some mocked. But others said, “We will hear you again about this.”

Acts 17:22-32

The two quotes that Paul uses here are from the Greek writers Epimenides and Aratus.  Is Paul endorsing a Greek conception of God?  Of course not.  Rather, he is taking their philosophical insights and religious practices (even their sacrifices!) and turning them on their head, wresting them from the paganism in which they were formed and re-purposing them to describe and illuminate the One True God.

In essence, Paul tells them that they have been sacrificing to God, whom they did not know . . . And here’s your chance to know Him! He takes their philosophers and poets and assumes that they had discovered a measure of truth . . . so, men of Athens, here is the rest of the story!

This is an apologetic method that most Christians today wouldn’t dream of using, for fear of appearing to endorse paganism.  But this was Paul’s method.  It was John’s method in the prologue to his Gospel account when he described the second person of the Godhead as the Logos.  And it was the method that the Church adopted throughout history as it formed its Calendar.

It started with Easter.  Jesus is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.  So the Church began to celebrate the true Passover, leaving the shadow behind.  Incidentally, I don’t like to call it Easter, but Pascha.  Eostre is the goddess of the dawn.  She represents rebirth and fertility.  The Church displaces her and instead preaches Resurrection.

Christmas takes place around the winter solstice, when the pagan cults celebrated the returning of the sun.  It is the point in the year where darkness begins to recede and light begins to gain ground again.  The Church took this and said: You celebrate light overtaking darkness, but in ignorance.  Let us teach you about the True Light that shines in the darkness, Jesus Christ, who came into the world at its darkest hour.

At Samhain, the Celts celebrated the harvest.  On this day they believed that the spirits of the dead could pass between the world of the living and the underworld.  The Church fixed All Hallows Eve and All Saint’s Day at this point, in effect telling the pagan cults: You celebrate the dead in ignorance.  Let us teach you the truth that the souls of saints who have fallen asleep are with the Lord, and will rise on the last day.

Of course, the Church has a long way yet to go.  The application of this Mars Hill apologetic has not been perfect or entire in history.  Especially in this modern age, because so many Christians have relinquished their claim on these days, and on time itself, the Church has allowed paganism to creep back in.  We still have Easter bunnies and eggs, and yule, and ghosts, goblins and ghouls running free in our neighborhoods on Halloween.  There is still a great deal of work to do if we are to effectively displace paganism from the year and preach the Truth.

But the concept is sound and Biblical.  Wrest away from the devil what was never his to begin with, and turn it on its head in order to illuminate the Truth of Jesus Christ and his rule over time and space.

Sanctus

In Isaiah the prophet is given a view into heaven.  He sees YHWH sitting on a throne above all the earth, his robe filling the temple.  Interesting that the temple is seen by Isaiah to be in heaven, not in Jerusalem.  Or is it both?  That might be an interesting idea to explore later.  It is quite possible that YHWH is in the Jerusalem temple here, as the seraphim are standing above Him.  In any case, his robe is in the Temple, and fills it.  The worship of the seraphim is responsive:

And one called to another and said: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory!”
~Isaiah 6:3

So YHWH is present in the Temple on earth while the angels glorify Him above.  Does this remind us of any scene of the New Covenant?  It should.  In Revelation the apostle John sees a similar sight.  Or is it identical?

At once I was in the Spirit, and behold, a throne stood in heaven, with one seated on the throne . . . And the four living creatures, each of them with six wings, are full of eyes all around and within, and day and night they never cease to say,

“Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!” ~Rev. 4:2-8

From this we may see that the way God is to be worshiped, at least in heaven, has not changed from the time of Isaiah to Revelation.  It is no accident that the Jewish Synagogue worship included the Sanctus of Isaiah in their Sabbath liturgy.  They understood that the way God is worshiped in heaven is the way we are to worship him on earth.

It is also likely that while the Sanctus was sung in the synagogue, it originated in the service of the Temple before the time of Christ.  And it was not long before the Christian Church followed suit, incorporating the Sanctus into the liturgy of the Eucharist.

Hosanna and Benedictus

Closely related to the Sanctus in both Jewish and Christian liturgy is the Hosanna.  In Hebrew it means “save us!” and is drawn from Psalm 118.

Save us, we pray, O Lord! O Lord, we pray, give us success!  Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! We bless you from the house of the Lord.
~Psalm 118:25-26

The people of Israel in the day of Christ understood that this was to be used to inaugurate the coming of the Messiah.  They sang this Psalm as Jesus entered the city of Jerusalem riding on a donkey, waving palm branches and spreading their garments at his feet.
(Matt. 21:9,  John 12:13)

The Hosanna also has connections to the book of Revelation.  There is a part in the vision that alludes directly to the triumphal entry, with all people of all tribes of all nations standing before the Lord with palm branches, just as the people of Israel did on Palm Sunday.

There is one marked difference, the contrast of which actually highlights a thematic continuity in the narrative of redemption.  Since Christ has conquered and is victorious, the Church now may say Hosanna (save us, Lord), but also says “salvation belongs to the Lord our God,” to which the angels reply in unison, “Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen.” (Rev. 7:9-12)

Hallelujah (Alleluia)

Looking at the Hosanna will bring us directly to another parallel between Old Covenant and New.  The Psalms were written specifically to enhance and fill the worship of the Tabernacle and Temple.  What we find in the Psalms, if found in parallel in the New Testament, should tell us a great deal about how worship is to be done under the New Covenant.

One series of Psalms—the Hallel Psalms—is particularly striking.  Notice how often is repeated the call to “Praise YHWH” (Psalm 106:1, 111:1, 112:1, 113:1, 117:1, 135:1, 146:1, 147:1, 148:1, 149:1, 150:1).  A total of eleven Psalms begin with “Hallelujah!”  Clearly the call to Praise the Lord was a pervasive and integral part of the Old Covenant Temple worship.  By now we should not be surprised that we find the same liturgical call in the New Testament.

For I tell you that Christ became a servant to the circumcised to show God’s truthfulness, in order to confirm the promises given to the patriarchs, and in order that the Gentiles might glorify God for his mercy.  As it is written,

“Therefore I will praise you among the Gentiles,
and sing to your name.”

And again it is said, “Rejoice, O Gentiles, with his people.”

And again, “Praise the Lord, all you Gentiles, and let all the peoples extol him.”  ~Romans 15:8-11

Clearly, Hallelujah is not only for Israel.

After this I heard what seemed to be the loud voice of a great multitude in heaven, crying out, “Hallelujah! Salvation and glory and power belong to our God . . .

Once more they cried out, “Hallelujah! The smoke from her goes up forever and ever.”

And the twenty-four elders and the four living creatures fell down and worshiped God who was seated on the throne, saying, “Amen. Hallelujah!”

And from the throne came a voice saying, “Praise our God, all you his servants, you who fear him, small and great.”

Then I heard what seemed to be the voice of a great multitude, like the roar of many waters and like the sound of mighty peals of thunder, crying out, “Hallelujah! For the Lord our God the Almighty reigns.

~Rev. 19:1, 3-6

Commentary

The people of God said and sang Hallelujah in God’s Temple under the Davidic litugical reforms, the Gentiles say Hallelujah as salvation comes from Israel and floods the nations.  The elders in heaven continually say Hallelujah before the throne of Christ.  They sing Hosanna—save us in the highest—as well as the acclamation celebrating that salvation, waving palms to welcome the king.  The seraphim say Sanctus—”Holy, Holy, Holy”—continually before the throne of God, glorifying the Three-in-One.

What’s more, in each description they do it very much in the same way throughout history, employing the same kind of language, with the same reverence and with the same manner of call and response between officiant(s) and congregation.  I find it hard to understand how Christians can read these descriptions of worship in both Old and New Covenant and then say we ought not to do it that way because it is not explicitly commanded.

But it is explicitly commanded!  The liturgy is the invasion of Heaven into Earth.  This is God’s glory breaking in upon our world and the worship of His person joining all the saints through out history in the past, present, and future, into a united divine service.  We cannot say “thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven” and then refuse to do not only what is done in heaven now and forever shall be in the future, but was already done in Israel for a thousand years.  There is no justification for a hiatus from reverent and vibrant liturgical worship.

The elements of the liturgy in the New Testament book of Revelation are not merely something to look forward to in eternity.  It is a description of how worship is to be done now, deeply rooted in an awareness of how worship was done then.  And we haven’t even touched on how incense, posture, musical instruments, and food are used in both Old Covenant worship and in the New.

As Reformed and Evangelical Christians, it is no credit to us that we look at the rite of the Roman Mass or the Orthodox Divine Liturgy and say,
“Oh, that’s rote.  We don’t do that” and then discard not only the corruptions but also the Scriptural elements of liturgy as “mere traditions of men.”  Or, even if we think the tradition is itself okay, we askew Biblical worship in order to avoid guilt by association.  After all, we wouldn’t want to look Catholic . . .

Methinks as Protestants we sometimes protest the wrong things, and far too loudly.  As far as I can see, the Reformed Regulative Principle not only permits us to employ a rich and engaging liturgy to worship God.  Rather, it demands it.

Next time: Keeping Time

I can understand why some may be a bit wary of using the word Eucharist to refer to what has been called the “Lord’s Table,” the “Communion,” or the “Lord’s Supper.” After all, isn’t Eucharist a Roman Catholic term? Don’t we want to distance ourselves from doctrines like transubstantiation, the veneration of the host, and a great many other abuses of the Roman Church in history?

Well, yes, we should distance ourselves from those things. But we should not throw out what is really a Biblical name for the memorial meal that Christ gave to the Church. “Eucharist” simply means “Thanksgiving” in Greek. It is used to refer to the Lord’s Supper because at the last supper before his passion, Jesus took bread and broke it, “εὐχαριστήσας” — “having given thanks.”

In this way, Eucharist became the Church’s word to refer to the Supper, and more specifically to the Prayer of Thanksgiving itself. It is a good word, and more importantly a Biblical word. As we should strive not only for Sola Scriptura, but also Tota Scriptura, and since it is a good and Biblical tradition of the Church under the guidance of the Spirit in history, I think Reformed Christians can be peaceful about referring to Jesus’ memorial meal as the Eucharist.

There are two good reasons for calling the meal Eucharist: By calling it thus, we claim and acknowledge our historic roots in the ancient Church, and we show ourselves to be in solidarity with the saints of the last 2,000 years. And, we get to reclaim the Biblical meaning of the word, giving us an inroad to address historical abuses and misconceptions while assuring other orthodox Christians that we are, indeed, talking about the same thing.

Hoc est corpus meum.

These words have led to possibly the greatest piece of silliness in all of liturgical history. This is what happens when you don’t say the prayers in a language everyone can understand and in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear clearly.

After all, you wouldn’t want them to hear you say “Hoc est corpus meum” and actually think you said hocus pocus, now you would you? Yet that is probably what happened in the medieval church.

The Eucharistic prayer of the medieval church, along with the whole liturgy, was spoken in Latin, and the general populace wasn’t schooled in Latin. To make matters worse, the words were whispered over the bread during the eucharist instead of spoken aloud. Together with a vulgar understanding of transubstantiation, it is no wonder that most people thought the priest was performing some sort of magic trick.

So because of several errors in worship, the words that should have been good news to the people of God—”This is my body”—were transformed into the magic phrase for parlor trick illusionists.

In the early church, the newly baptized were admitted immediately to the table. There is a great deal of evidence from the writings of the church fathers that this was the case even for infants.

At some point in the first couple centuries of the Church, someone had the slick idea to add a little oil to the waters of baptism. More precisely, a small element was added to the rite of baptism in which the newly baptized was anointed with oil to symbolize the anointing of the Holy Spirit. This anointing, called chrismation, was originally viewed as simply a part of the baptismal rite. It is an extra-biblical addition to the sacrament. It must have been a fairly early tradition, since it is found everywhere in the ancient churches, and also in denominations today that hold claim to the ancient church. So the alien element of oil was interposed between water and supper.

In the Eastern Orthodox churches, we can see something similar to what this rite might have looked like in the ancient church. Baptism is immediately followed by anointing with oil, and the newly baptized and chrismed is immediately admitted to the Eucharist. This immediacy in administration of the sacraments is maintained in the East because any priest could both baptize and chrismate, and then administer the elements. In the West, the story is quite different.

Conscious to guard the hierarchy of the bishopric, which it considered to be essential to the doctrine of apostolic succession, the Roman church ruled in the West that while the priesthood could baptize and administer the Eucharist, chrismation required the services of a bishop. Without the anointing, the baptism was deemed incomplete. As the church spread throughout the empire into more rural areas, it became hard to come by a bishop. Priests could administer baptism, but without the authority to perform the rite of chrismation, they could not complete the initiation of converts or their children into the new faith.

More and more, chrismation had to be delayed until a bishop passed through the area. Because chrismation was technically a part of the baptismal ritual, the baptism was not complete until this anointing of oil had been given. The result was that administration of the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper was also withheld from those who had been baptized but whose baptism had not been “confirmed” by a bishop in chrismation.

Often it could be years before the services of a bishop were available. A traveling bishop would pass through, chrismate all those who had been baptized but not confirmed, and then admit them to the table of the Eucharist. By then, those who had been baptized as infants but had never been chrismated would be old enough to be aware of what was taking place. In order to prepare these children for the anointing of oil and the partaking of the Supper, a system of catechism was introduced. The baptized would be instructed in the doctrines of the church and so made ready for chrismation and communion.

And so the Western rite of Confirmation was born. As chrismation was increasingly separated from baptism in the greater part of the Western church, confirmation came to be seen as a separate sacramental rite—one that drove a man-made wedge between baptism and communion. If you consider that chrismation with oil, whether in baptism or years afterward, is an extra-biblical practice, then the fact becomes unavoidable that this later development amounts to the unnatural and unlawful excommunication (barring from the table) of baptized Christians.

It is a curious thing that this rite continues even in Reformed churches today, albeit without the oil. Granted, they don’t consider it a sacrament, and Confirmation as such is sometimes optional or simply called something else. But the essential idea continues that there must exist a period of instruction between baptism and communion, at least for those who are baptized as infants, and a “credible confession” must thereafter be made in order to gain access to the table.

By introducing catechism as a prerequisite for chrismation, the Western Roman church placed an emphasis on understanding as a requirement for confirmation (of baptism), and thus for communion in the Eucharist. When the Reformed church rightly did away with the oil of chrismation, they nevertheless retained the rite and all its implications for the sacraments. I find it ironic that a controversy regarding the communication of children today in Reformed churches has its roots in two erroneous Roman practices: the chrismation of oil in baptism and the safeguarding of apostolic succession in the hierarchy of the church by requiring that a bishop must confirm a baptism administered by a priest.

The lex orandi of the Roman church has become the de facto lex credendi of of Western Christianity, including many Reformed Christians.

Bibliographic Sources:

Kavanagh, Aidan, Confirmation: Origins and Reform, Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1996

Turrell, James F., “Muddying the Waters of Baptism: The Theology Committee’s Report on Baptism, Confirmation, and Christian Formation,” Anglican Theological Review, July 1, 2006