A Lord’s Supper Home Meal — A Method

July 24, 2012

On many different occasions, and some recently, I have been asked about how I conceive or conduct the Lord’s supper as a home meal. Others who are doing something similar have wanted to compare their practices with my own. I have never explicitly addressed this on my blog but now is an opportune moment.

The Lord’s supper as a meal is not a weekly event for me but it is fairly common.  In my small group, several of my classes and other occasions I have led or participated in group meals as the “Lord’s supper.”

Why do this?  Well, first the Lord’s supper is a supper, that is, it is an evening meal (the meaning of deipnon). Second, I think the supper was intended for smaller groups. The Jerusalem church, though 3000 strong on the day of Pentecost, met to “break bread” in their homes in small groups. Third, the supper as a group meal engenders intimacy among its participants. There we experience fellowship at the most basic level through eating together; there we show hospitality toward each other; and there we experience grace around the table.

When I lead the Lord’s meal, I have a fairly general outline of how the meal will proceed. This is not rigid but I think ritual is important or else the meal will lose focus and degenerate into a generality that cannot carry the weight of the moment. Nevertheless, the meal varies in order, Scripture texts, and meditation. But here is the general order in which I lead the meals (by the way, the food is already on the table as we sit down).

1.  Lighting of candles.  I like two central candles on the table to symbolize the light of creation and the light of new creation.  We give honor and praise to the Father and Son in this way as we remember that the Holy Spirit (the flame of love) illuminates us and brings us into the presence of the Father and Son.

2.  Each participant has a small candle in front of their plate.  I ask each, in turn, to light their candle (the lighter is passed around) and give thanks for something that God is doing in their lives. We begin with our basic response to the light of God, that is, we give thanks.

3.  I offer a meditation on the Lord’s Supper using a text of Scripture. This may range from the traditional texts like 1 Corinthians 11 or Luke 22.  But I don’t limit myself to them. Other texts also come into play such as Psalms of thanksgiving (like Psalm 116, 107, 118) and other texts that carry the meaning of the meal within them or through application.

4.  Breaking of the Bread. I use a whole loaf that is large enough for every person at the table to take a substantial piece (not just a pinch).  I take the bread in my hands and talk about the meaning of the bread.  The bread is from the earth that nourishes our bodies but the bread is also a means of experiencing the new creation through as the raised, living body of Christ. We eat this bread for both physical and spiritual nourishment.  I then break the bread and offer a prayer of thanksgiving, and then distribute it.  I give it to the people on either side of me and they break off a piece and pass it down to those around the table.  As each one gives the bread to the other, they say:  ”This is the body of Christ which is given for you.”  We all eat the bread.

5.  We begin eating and drinking what is available on the table.

6.  At some point at the beginning of our eating (after we all have food on our plates), I will remind the participants of the two candles and that by the presence of the Spirit, the living Christ is the host of this table.  If we have some ongoing intimacy as a group (that is, this is not the first time we ever met or a special occasion), I will ask each to share something that is happening in their life in their walk with God (struggles, triumphs, etc.). This is a community meal.  At the end of the sharing, we pray for each other.

7.  Towards the middle of the meal, I will remind the table that this is the communion of the saints, which includes the saints around the world at present but also the communion of the saints who now inhabit the heavens with God. I begin by recalling the presence of Sheila, Dad and Joshua at the table with us, and ask each to remember one who is already in the heavens but present at the table with us even now. We remember that we commune with the saints as well as with God.

8.  In connection with this remembrance, I ask each to share a name for whom we might pray.  Depending on time, they may explain why the name, but usually I just ask for names without explanation.  This is for a time of intercession.  We pray over the names, and I don’t usually list the names again in the prayer but simply acknowledge that God has heard and we call up God to act.

9.  In this context, I will share or ask another to share another scripture.  One of my favorites at this point is Psalm 116.  It is a thanksgiving Psalm that reminds us that we cannot repay God’s goodness except to lift up the cup of thanksgiving and celebrate a meal with God (the Psalm is written in the context of a thanksgiving sacrifice).

10.  Towards the end of the meal, I take the pitcher that is filled with the fruit of the vine and talk about the “cup” we are about to drink.  I remind us that this is the blood of Christ which is poured out for us for the remission of our sins. In this moment we experience reconciliation with God–we are forgiven.  But I also remind us that the “cup” is something we share with Christ, that is, we share the cup of suffering as persons who follow Jesus to the cross.  We are reminded that we are disciples committed to follow Jesus daily, even to a cross.

11.  Pouring the Cup.  I take the pitcher and pour some into a cup (something like a wine class perhaps) for the person sitting next to me.  As I pour, I say, this is the blood of Christ for you and invite them to share the cup of Jesus. In turn, they pour the cup for the person next to them and around the table till all have their cups filled. Someone then prays over the cup, giving thanks for what God has done in Jesus. And we drink together as we say “Thank you, Jesus.” Many times we cling our glasses together in a toast.

11.  As each pours the cup for the other, I ask that they affirm that person for something in their life. In what way do they see Jesus in this person who sits at the table with them? For what do they give thanks for them and acknowledge their communion in Christ?  In this way, we share an intimacy with each other and express our gratitude for each other as we express our gratitude to God.

13.  As we drink and conclude the meal, I don’t want the cup to simply end with a sip. Rather, as we drink and continue to drink (and finish eating as the case may be), I ask each person in turn to share one word (with an explanation) that is prominent in their heart and mind at that moment. What are they experiencing? We share a word that expresses our heart.

14.  Sometimes dessert is offered as a taste of the eschaton–as a present foretaste of coming joy.

15.  As the meal winds down and we conclude eating, I end the meal with some kind of benediction. It could be a prayer, a blessing, a Scripture reading.

This is a method; it is certainly not a standard or the method.  I think the meal can be conducted in any number of ways.  However, I do think several things are important:

  • Scripture (the Word) to Open the Meal
  • Bread and Fruit of the Vine
  • Communion of the Saints
  • Intercession for the Saints
  • Expressions of Gratitude
  • Benediction as Closure

Perhaps some might find this helpful.  For whatever its value, there it is!    :-)

23 Comments | Pastoral Care, Spirituality, Theology | Tagged: , , , | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks

Malachi 1:6-14 — Treating the Lord’s Table with Contempt

July 12, 2012

Some seventy years, more or less, after the rebuilding of the temple, Malachi directs his attention to the priests of the Second Temple. Twice, in Malachi 1:6-2:9, addresses them directly which the NRSV translates as a vocative, that is, “O Priests” (1:6; 2:1). This divides Malachi’s oracle for the priests into two obvious sections (1:6-14 and 2:1-9).

In the first section (1:6-14), Malachi rebukes the priests for their complicity in offering unacceptable sacrifices at the temple. In the second section (2:1-9), he reminds them of their covenantal responsibility to guide the people. In effect, because they have failed in their responsibility to appropriately guide worshippers, they offer sacrifices on the altar that are beneath the dignity and honor due God.

Why do priests, leaders of God’s people, sacrifice animals—lead the people in worship—they know are unacceptable? What motivates these priests? Why do they not assert their status as God’s covenantal leaders and instruct the people about godly sacrifices? I think that is a critical question, but first we need to understand how Malachi addresses the problem before we can discern his judgment about their motivation.

At bottom, the priests dishonor God. The priests “despise” the “name” of God. This is the central point. It is where Malachi begins his address to the priests and the point that the priests dispute or question (1:6). Further, Malachi uses the term five times in his brief book and only when speaking to the priests (1:6 [2x], 7, 12; 2:9). The word “despise” bookends his addresses to the priests (1:6 and 2:9). Just as the priests have despised God, so he made Judah a despised people. The term means to treat with contempt or dishonor.

Joined with “despise” is the “name” of God. The priests despise God’s name. “Name” is used eight times in this section (1:6 [2x], 11 [3x], 14, 2:2, 5). When we see the word “name” we should recall God’s identity as well as reputation. The name of God is God’s person and the frequent use of the term in this section is probably tied to the covenantal and relational nature of the topic itself.

The core value, then, is how does one honor God’s name, or, to put it another way, how do we worship God in a covenantal relationship? How does one show their allegiance, respect and loyalty to God? This is the heart of worship itself. To worship God is to “honor” God, or more literally, to give God glory or ascribe to God “weight” (1:6 [2x]; kabed).

Malachi’s dialogue with the priests sets up the point:

Malachi: “You, O priests, have despised my name.”
Priests: “How have we despised your name?”
Malachi: “By offering polluted food on my altar.”
Priests: “How have we polluted it?”
Malachi: “By thinking that the Lord’s table may be despised.”

Instead of honoring God, they despise the name of God. Instead of eating sacrifices (“food” and “table”) that honor God, they prepare meals that dishonor God.

The effect of this dishonor is that their sacrifices are neither pleasing nor accepted (1:10). Moreover, these “gifts” do not bring us before God’s face. The Hebrew idiom here is quite interesting. Literally, the text claims that those who so seek God’s “face” (favor of God), God will not “lift up” their “faces” (favor). When we dishonor God as we seek God’s pleasure—as we seek his face in worship—we lose God’s favor, that is, he does not lift up our faces before him. In other words, when we so worship God, we do not experience God’s presence but rather his absence. God is not “gracious” in such circumstances (cf. Psalm 50).

God’s response, of course, to such “seeking” (worshipping) is nausea. Instead of a pleasing odor, these sacrifices turn God’s stomach. Yahweh would rather they shut the doors of the temple than continue these kinds of sacrifices. This is “vain” worship (1:10). There is no communion; there is no fellowship. The whole event is profaned (1:12) or polluted (1:7); it is made an unholy thing.

But what exactly were they doing? They offered lame, blind or sick animals for sacrifice. Malachi uses a play on words here—when the priests “implore” (from the Hebrew verb halah) God’s face, they do so with sick (holeh from the same root as the verb) animals. They seek God with sick animals.

But is that the full extent of their problem? Is it merely what they offer? Perhaps it is a formal (positivistic) legal point: Yahweh said offer X (an unblemished animal) and you offered Y (a blemished one). But there appears to be more here than that. The positivistic point is the surface symptom; the real problem lies underneath.

Malachi indicates that there are at least two other problems that compound the situation: (1) attitude and (2) morality. Climatically, Malachi hits at the heart of the problem in Malachi 1:13-14. The priests are “weary” and they offer on the altar what has been taken by “violence.” These are very cryptic references but they are telling.

The term “weariness” in 1:13 literally means “what wearies one” (or, what creates a hardship). It points to exhaustion, hopelessness and impatience. The priests are, in effect, “going through the motions” rather than investing in the presence of God. They see their situation as analogous to wandering in a wilderness (this word is used of the hardship of the wilderness in Exodus 18:8; Numbers 20:14). The priests had lost hope and saw what they were doing as meaningless.

But that is not all. Some promise one thing but deliver another. They break their vows. They cheat; they are dishonest. But the word is more harsh than a “cheater.” They are deceivers who lie and scheme. Isaiah 32:7 applies this description to the term: “his devices are evil; he plans wicked schemes to ruin the poor with lying words, even when the plea of the needy is right.”

But this is not all. Judah offered to God what was taken by “violence” (1:13). This is an important word in the prophets. It is used by Isaiah (10:2; 61:8), Jeremiah (21:12; 22:3), Ezekiel (18:7, 12, 16, 18; 22:29), and Micah (2:2; 3:2). It is synonymous with economic oppression. For example, Micah 2:2 describes the wicked as those who “covet fields and seize [rob] them…they oppress a man and his house.” Or Ezekiel 22:29 describes people who have “practiced extortion and committed robbery. They have oppressed the poor and the needy.” The term has a ring of institutional economic oppression in the prophets. Malachi, it seems, envisions something similar here. Indeed, later in the book, Malachi will highlight economic injustice as one of the great sins of his day (Malachi 3:5).

So, the problem with the priests and the worshippers is not simply that they violated some legal prescription. Rather, it goes deeper than that. It goes to their heart. They do not offer their best; they offer what is of little to no use for them (e.g., lame animals). They scheme and lie and make promises they do not intend to keep. They are tired of religion and the rituals have lost their meaning. They are not committed to righteousness; instead, they oppress the poor through violence. They offer sacrifices but the sacrifices they offer are not their own.

Judah, through its priestly representatives, brings sacrifices to the altar for slaughter that they might take their animals to the “table of the Lord” to eat them (“food” in Malachi 1:7, 12 but two different words in Hebrew). They intend to sit down at the table of the Lord; they intend to commune with their God. But God despises their pretense, their hearts, their violence. God does not show up at this table and the odor is nauseating. God does not accept their worship; their sacrifices and their eating is “in vain.”

God, however, is not dependent upon the praises of Israel or worship in the Second Temple. God is honored even when Israel fails to honor Yahweh. Malachi 1:11 proclaims the greatness of God’s name “among the nations” and “in every place” because God’s name is “great among the nations.” The God of Israel is not limited to Israel because “Great is Yahweh beyond the borders of Israel!” (Malachi 1:5).

To what, however, does this refer? Actually, in Hebrew, this sentence does not have a main verb. Some translations (NRSV) supply “is” while others (ESV) supply “will be.” In other words, is Malachi 1:11 a statement about the present or the future? Or, is it deliberately ambiguous so that it might include both? Either way, the point is that God’s honor is not dependent upon Israel’s worship.

Yet, is there some sense in which it is both. Early Christians understood this text in the light of their own context. They were worshippers scattered among the nations so that “in every place” they offered themselves to the Lord (cf. 1 Timothy 2:8 which uses the same phrase that appears in the LXX of Malachi 1:11; cf. Didache 14). This is consistent with other prophetic expectations that one day the nations would honor the name of Yahweh (cf. Isaiah 2:2; 56:7; 60:3; 66:19).

And yet we might question whether this is wholly future. The final line of Malachi 1:14 also lacks the verb and is variously translated “will be” or “is”: “my name will be (or, is) feared among the nations.” But this sentence is joined to a previous one which asserts: “I am (or, will be) a great King” (again, no verb in Hebrew). Yet the meaning here is surely not “I will be a great King.” The Lord already reigns and it seems best to read the present tense in the final phrase as well, that is, “my name is feared among the nations.”

If that is the case, then it is also quite likely that Malachi 1:11 has the present in view as well. This does not exclude the future, and so it might be best to include both the present and the future ideas. In some form and in some way, Yahweh’s honor and greatness is already acknowledged among the nations. They fear the Lord, but we also await a day when people, scattered among the nations, will continuously offer sacrifices to Yahweh in a way that honors him. We await a day when the nations themselves–all the nations–will honor Yahweh.

In our present Christian assemblies, when we sit at the table of the Lord, we honor God, are received into his presence, and his grace flows over us. We offer ourselves as sacrifices at that time as we also receive God’s sacrificial gift. We commune at the table of the Lord, just like Israel.

We live, however, with the same danger that rendered the worship of Malachi’s priests vain. We, too, can sit at the table with insincerity, deceit, violence and injustice (cf. 1 Corinthians 10). When we do so, we, too, offer God a nauseating odor.

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Posted by John Mark Hicks

The Argument for Excluding Wine from the Lord’s Supper

January 26, 2012

Silena Moore Holman (1850-1915) was a remarkable women in the early history of Churches of Christ. Her father was killed in the Civil War and she began teaching at the age of 14. She married Dr. T. P. Holman in 1875 and mothered eight children.

She exchanged multiple articles on multiple occasions with David Lipscomb in the pages of the Gospel Advocate as she argued for a wider role for women in the church.  Many of their exchanges are available at Hans Rollmann’s website.

She also served in the Tennessee Woman’s Christian Temperance Movement for 35 years, 15 years as President. In this capacity she argued for the exclusion of wine from the Lord’s table.

She articulated her argument in the Gospel Advocate (5 March 1903) 146-147. “We who plead for the use of unfermented, nonalcoholic wine at the Lord’s Supper should be read to give a reason for the faith that is in us”–and she does in thirteen points.

1. “The Lord’s Supper was instituted on the night of the feast of the passover, with the same elements as those used at that feast. We think that unleavened bread and unfermented wine were used at this feast.”

2. “Nowhere in the Bible is the drink used at the Lord’s Supper called ‘wine’.”

3.  ”‘The consistency and beauty of the sacramental symbols demand the absence of all fermented drinks’.”

4. “Our Savior spent his life in doing good.”

5. “We are warned repeatedly int he Bible against the use of wine.”

6. “It is a temptation to reformed drunkards.”

7. “Sometimes people who have been trained to habits of total abstinence seem to have an hereditary longing for alcoholic liquors.”

8. “It encourages the liquor traffic and the saloon.”

9. “It gives encouragement to the moderate drinker.”

10. Paul does not speak of drunks at the Lord’s table in 1 Corinthians 11, but it refers to excess as with gluttony.

11.  ”In the literature of the early centuries there are numerous references which show that unfermented wine was used at the Lord’s Supper in those day.”

12. “Some have thought it would have been impossible for the early Christians to secure the unfermented wine out of the vintage season, but this is a mistake. I have in my possession four recipes–used before, during, and after our Savior’s time–by which wine was preserved in an unfermented state.”

13. “‘Where are we to get the unfermented wine?’ asks a half-converted church member. It can be preserved, like any other canned fruit, in an ordinary fruit jar, by heating it and making it air tight, as other fruit is kept.”

She concludes: “I believe that when church members unite to drive this agent of evil from the inmost sanctuary of the churches the day will have arrived for ridding our country forever of the legalized liquor traffic; but as long as we foster its use in one of the most sacred institutions of religion, just so long will the evil remain to blight our land and ruin the lives of our people.”

Interestingly, the extended argument was needed and pushed by the Temperance Movement because churches generally, until very recently, had all used wine in the Lord’s Supper.

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Posted by John Mark Hicks

Mark 8:1-10 — Table Ministry Among the Gentiles

January 17, 2012

Jesus resumed his kingdom ministry when he returned to the sea of Galilee from the regions of Tyre and Sidon. After some time (“in those days”) Jesus was followed by a large crowd (4,000 people) into a remote place where food was not easily accessible. Mark describes this area as a “wilderness” (8:4) and uses a cognate of the term he has previously employed to describe Jesus’ time in the Judean desert (1:12-13), his moments of solitude (1:35, 45) and the previous feeding of the 5,000 (6:31-32, 35).Israel, following Jesus, once again finds themselves in the wilderness.

It is uncertain where this “wilderness” is. Jesus is probably ministering in the Decapolis on the eastern or northeastern shore of the Sea of Galilee. Whatever the region, at the close of the story Jesus gets into a boat and crosses over to “Dalmanutha.” But this  place name is unknown in any other source. The parallel in Matthew (15:39) names it Magadan (which may be another name for Magdala located on the west side of the sea). Presumably, then, Jesus is still on the eastern/northeastern side of the lake in the Decapolis.

As with the feeding of the 5,000 (Mark 6:30-44), the remote location creates a problem. No food is readily accessible for such a large crowd. Many had come from a “long distance” to be with Jesus and they had been there for “three days” without food. These notes may be purely situational in order to describe the desperate situation of the people, but they may also have theological significance about the Gentile mission (“far off”) and typify “three days” in the wilderness just as Jesus was three days in the tomb (cf. Mark 8:31; 14:58; 15:29).

Jesus shares his feelings about the situation with his disciples: “I have compassion on these people.” Loving people entails feeding people as well as teaching them. Compassion moved Jesus to postpone his rest in order to teach the 5,000 (Mark 6:34), but here it moves him to feed them. The missional nature of this event is evident: compassion is part of the motivation for kingdom ministry. We teach and feed people because we love them. To love our neighbor is not only to teach them but to feed them as well.

The disciples, however, are confused by Jesus’ statement. How are they going to feed 4,000 people? Well….duh. One would think that they might remember the previous occasion and trust Jesus. But the disciples can only look at their own resources—they are in the “wilderness.” Food is not available. They only have seven loaves and a “few fish.” But was that not enough previously? And it is enough this time.

The people are asked to “recline”—“sit down” does not give the full impact of this language. This is a festive meal that is characterized by reclining. It is celebratory, relaxed–a meal among friends. Jesus is hosting a banquet for hungry people in the wilderness. Like at the Last Supper (Mark 14:22), as well as the previous feeding of thousands (Mark 6:41), Jesus eucharistically breaks bread at the table with his disciples.

The abundance of the meal is signaled not only by the fact that everyone was satisfied (“filled”) but by the huge amount of leftovers. Seven basketfuls of food remained. But is that not less than in the previous feeding which had twelve basketfuls? Actually, it isn’t. The word for basket in Mark 6:43 refers to something like the size of a lunch box but the word in Mark 8:9 refers to a basket large enough to lift a person over a wall (cf. Acts 9:25). The leftovers could have fed hundreds more. God’s provision is overflowing.

The parallels between the feeding of the 4,000 and the 5,000 raise the question about why the different numbers: twelve “baskets” in Mark 6 and seven “baskets” in Mark 8. Why the difference? It may simply be a factual report, but even then why these “facts”? Are we to suppose the twelve in Mark 6 is a significant symbol for Israel but the number seven has no symbolic meaning? It may be that “seven” symbolizes “wholeness” and inclusiveness and thus symbolizing the Gentile inclusion in this meal.

Some have suggested that the 4,000 included both Jew and Gentile. This is partly based on the fact that this happened in the Decapolis (a Gentile region but where many Jews lived) and the statement many “came from far” may allude to Joshua 9:6, 9 and Isaiah 60:4. This was a typical way of referring to Gentiles (cf. Acts 2:39). Others also note that Mark substituted “giving thanks” (8:6) for “blessing” (6:41) which is more typical of Gentile audiences than Jewish, and that the number seven rather than twelve may represent an inclusive number in contrast with a typically Jewish numeral. Perhaps Mark intends to paint an inclusive picture here that prefigures the Gentile mission though one wonders if he might not been more explicit about it as he was with the Syro-Phoenician woman (7:26). Allusions to Gentile inclusion seem present and it is difficult to imagine that no Gentiles would be present among the 4,000 on the eastern or northeastern side of the lake.

If this is the case, the meal setting points us toward the inclusive nature of the Lord’s table. Jesus takes the bread, gives thanks, breaks it and gives it, just as he does at the Last Supper (Mark 14:22). Mark’s first readers would not miss the literary and linguistic links as well as the theological linkage. After three days, Jesus rose from the dead to host his table in the kingdom of God. Those who are “afar off” are invited to this table as well as the people of Israel. In his compassion Jesus feeds those who have followed him into the wilderness, and he continues to feed disciples today through the Eucharist. Disciples still sit with Jesus at the table.

Parallels between Mark 6 and Mark 8*

Theme

Feeding 5,000 Males

Feeding 4,000 people
Compassion

6:34

8:2
Wilderness

6:35

8:4
“How many loaves do you have?”

6:38

8:5
Fish

6:38

8:7
Command to Recline

6:39

8:6
Last Supper Formula

6:41

8:6
Satisfied

6:42

8:8
Leftovers

6:43

8:8
Dismissed Crowd

6:45

8:9
Disciples in a Boat

6:45

8:10

*Based on William Lane’s NIC commentary on Mark, p. 271, n. 8.

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Posted by John Mark Hicks

Lipscomb on the Bread and Wine (Yes, “Wine”)

December 28, 2011

If the facts of science should shape our interpretation of Scripture (see my previous post), how do we understand what is happening at the table of the Lord?  Lipscomb uses an argument below that is rooted in an optimistic empiricism but something even more profound as I will explain. See what you think.

“But if this [transubstantiation, JMH] is a miracle, it is the opposite of every miracle mentioned in the Bible. Instead of appeal to the sense to produce faith in the unseen, the belief in the miracle rests in an existing faith contrary to the testimony of the bodily senses. A man’s bodily senses say there is no flesh and blood in the loaf or the wine. It takes a blind faith that sets aside the testimony of the sight, touch, taste, hearing, smelling of the body to believe this. God never required a man to believe a thinking contrary to the witness of his own senses.”

“Jesus said: “Do this [partake of the bread and wine] (DL’s words, JMH) in memory of me.” A memorial of a person or a transaction is not that person or transaction itself reproduced. A memorial is something that reminds one of the person or the thing done.”

“Christ said: ‘This is my body.” “This is my blood.” But did he mean it literally or figuratively? Jesus frequently used words figuratively: as, “Upon tis rock I will build my church.” He did not mean a literal rock nor a material building. He told the woman of Samaria “he would have given [her], living water…Whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall become in him a well of water springing up into eternal life.” (John 4:10-14.) This was no real water of which Jesus spoke. It was a figurative use of the word. How do we determine this? Because to give it a literal meaning would contradict our bodily senses. Jesus called Herod a “fox.” Did he mean he was a literal four-legged animal? No one would so claim. Why not? Because our bodily senses contradict it, and we are forced to conclude it is untrue, or the word is used in a figurative sense. Now this is true when he says of the bread, “This is my body.” Our bodily sense know it is not, and we are compelled to say it is not true, or it is true in a figurative sense. Our bodily senses know it si not, and we are compelled to say it si not true, or it is true in a figurative sense. Our bodily sense are good witnesses to us of material things, and God at no time requires men to reject their testimony in reference to such things. He does not require us to believe the bread and wine are literal body and blood of Christ when all our senses tell us they are not. They are figuratively so. They bring these things to our remembrance,a nd his body and blood are spiritually present to bless our spirits. Our spirits, not our bodies, are blessed in remembering the body and blood of Christ. There is hardly a chapter, especially of John in which words are not so used.”  (David Lipscomb, Gospel Advocate, Dec 19, 2907, p. 807).

Lipscomb’s point has some merit.  Empirical reality, as perceived through the human mind, is a mode (in some sense) of knowledge. But I would suggest that a deeper point is at issue–one which, I think, Lipscomb would also argue if presented to him.

One of the reasons I reject transubstantiation is that it involves the annihilation of creation. Transubstantiation annihilates the presence of the bread and wine in order to replace it with the body and blood of Christ. This dishonors creation itself. The bread and wine are not transfigured into a form of new creation; it ceases to be bread and wine altogether. The telos of creation, however, is not annihilation but transfiguration (redemption in Romans 8). It does not cease to be but becomes new creation; not annihilated but renewed (as Lipscomb himself believed).

So, at the table, the bread does not cease to be bread or the wine cease to be wine. Rather, the bread and the wine become Spiritual (pneumatological and eschatological) means of experiencing the new creation in Christ. Bread and wine, as elements of creation itself, become means of Spiritual communion with the new creation that is Christ.

Transubstantiation does not fit the miracle stories of Scripture where the miracles perfect nature or utilize the elements of nature rather than annihilating or destroying nature. Lipscomb has a point, I think.

This is currently debated among some Roman Catholic scholars  For example, Terence Nichols (Transubstantiation and Eucharistic Presence,” Pro Ecclesia 11 [Winter 2002] 57-75) attempts to understand the miracle of the Eucharist in the context of modern physics while rejecting traditional theories of Thomistic Transubstantiation.

Does this mean we reduce the Supper to a figure or symbol where it becomes just a memorial?  I don’t think so. I think something Spiritual and eschatological is happening at the Eucharistic meal. But I won’t take the space to talk about that here; I have written elsewhere about that.

My point is that one’s theology of creation as empirical reality, as something good that should not be annihilated, and with an eschatological goal of transfiguration mitigates against a traditional, Thomistic understanding of transubstantiation. Something Spiritual happens, something mystical (thus the Greek church calls them the “mysteries”), but it does not subvert or deny creation. Rather, creation (bread and wine) retains its original function, that is, to mediate the presence of God and communion between God and humanity.

10 Comments | Stone-Campbell, Theology | Tagged: , , , , , | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks

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