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Critique of Dr. Fred Malone on Baptism — Part 5
Within this post my critique will move on into the second section of Malone’s book.
The String of Pearls
Within this section of the book Malone seeks to address the ‘string of pearls’ that paedobaptists use to justify the practice of infant Baptism. Malone lists the individual ‘pearls’ that, put together, form the argument for infant Baptism: 1) The covenant theology of the Bible; 2) The relationship between circumcision and Baptism; 3) The proof-texts concerning Baptism; 4) Jesus’ attitude toward children; 5) The disjunction of the Baptism of John and Christian Baptism; 6) The argument of silence; 7) The argument of expanded blessings; 8) The testimony of tradition.
Malone quotes a PCA pastor who claims that, although the individual arguments for infant Baptism may be weak, together they present a strong argument. Malone asks: ‘How can a strong chain be made of weak links?’
It seems to me that Malone has just broken the back of his poor analogy. The argument for paedobaptism is not, in my opinion, best understand as a chain of good and necessary inference containing a number of individual arguments or links. The arguments for paedobaptism are mutually reinforcing and consequently are not really best compared to links in a chain. Maybe the arguments are more like aspects of the ecosystem of biblical truth that combine together to form an environment that ensures the extinction of the species of Baptist theology that Malone propounds. Maybe the arguments are more like ingredients in a cake: get the ingredients right and the paedobaptist ‘cake’ will follow! Of course, sometimes the arguments are more like arguments from the characteristics of the finished cake to the sort of ingredients that it must be composed of. Malone gives us little reason to prefer his analogy over any of the ones above.
Malone seems to view the argument for paedobaptism as some narrow analytical argument. I am increasingly convinced that the strength of the paedobaptist argument is found in its breadth. It is not a narrow argument from a selection of proof-texts — like many arguments for a Baptist position — but is a wide-ranging theological argument. The paedobaptist argument is not myopic but views the question of paedobaptism in the light of a large number of other theological concerns. At the conclusion of this series of posts I hope to present a positive case for paedobaptism that will seek to address the question in a variety of different ways, using a number of major doctrines to bolster the case.
Eschatology, ecclesiology, anthropology and soteriology are among the many areas of doctrine that are to some degree or other moulded by our answer to the Baptism question. In my experience few Baptists have really appreciated how great an effect their view of Baptism (principally their common denial of the efficacy and objectivity of Baptism) has upon these other areas of their thought and vice versa. Each particular doctrine serves to condition all of the rest. Taking one doctrine by itself and freely drawing what appear to be ‘good and necessary’ consequences can often lead us into heresy. Every doctrine should serve to provide limits upon apparently ‘logical’ deductions from all of the others. Texts teaching the sovereignty of God should not be used to silence texts that teach the responsibility of man and vice versa. It is my conviction that the common credobaptist understanding of Baptism tends to isolate the question of Baptism from many broader theological considerations.
Arguments for paedobaptism should not, in my opinion, use the language of ‘good and necessary consequence’ — our argument is far broader than this. We should seek to understand Baptism in the light of the whole teaching of Scripture and not just the teaching that explicitly relates to Baptism. Essentially this is the difference between the regulative principle in its narrow form and the regulative principle in the broader form that I early argued for. A narrow form of the regulative principle can easily arrive at unbiblical conclusions because it is not sufficiently conditioned by the whole teaching of Scripture. Once we have appreciated the interdependency of Christian doctrine we will be wary of developing a view of Baptism that has not been informed by our understanding of God, Christ, man, salvation, ecclesiology, eschatology and other such areas of doctrine.
It is crucially important to recognize the narrowness of the foundation upon which most credobaptist (and all too many paedobaptist) arguments are based. The problematic nature of many understandings of Baptism only becomes apparent when we seek to fully integrate these understandings into the broader matrix of Christian doctrine.
Agreements and Disagreements on Covenant Theology
Malone laments the fact that most paedobaptists and, indeed, many credobaptists are persuaded that covenant theology is in principle irreconcilable with credobaptist theology. Malone wishes to attack what he perceives as paedobaptist dangers in covenant theology and also to address an overreaction on the part of Baptists against covenant theology. At the beginning of his treatment of covenant theology Malone claims:—
As I read the covenants of the Old and New Testaments, only a Baptistic covenant theology holds consistently to the New Testament’s interpretation of how the Old Testament is fulfilled in it.He sets out to identify the areas of agreement and disagreement that exist between credobaptists and paedobaptists on the substance of covenant theology.
Areas of Agreement
The first area of agreement that Malone identifies is that of the Covenant of Redemption. Malone defines the Covenant of Redemption as the unified plan of the Trinity to redeem the elect from their sins.
The second area of agreement is found in a common belief in the Covenant of Works made with Adam. Malone claims that all people are born ‘under the condemnation of the failed Covenant of Works and remain “under law,” until they are transferred into the Covenant of Grace (Romans 3:19-20; 6:14).’
The third area of agreement is a common belief in the historical Covenant of Grace made with the elect. The Covenant of Grace begins with the promise of Genesis 3:15 and is carried on throughout history in ‘variously administered “covenants of promise” with Noah, Abraham, Moses and David.’ The Covenant of Grace is fulfilled by the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, by which He
effectually purchased salvation for all those whom He represented as their covenant Head (i.e., the particular redemption of all the elect in all of history through His New Covenant).Covenantal Baptists and paedobaptists share in common the belief that ‘the way of salvation has been by grace through faith in God’s provision of that “seed of the woman” since the fall of man.’ Malone attacks the idea that the Sinaitic Covenant was a republished Covenant of Works (although he claims that the Pharisees understood it as such), claiming that the conditional elements of the Covenant ‘referred to Israel’s possession of the land of Canaan as long as God’s commandments were obeyed, not to a personal salvation of works.’ Consequently, the Covenant of Sinai ended when the promised seed came.
The final area of agreement that Malone draws our attention to is that regarding the New Covenant as the fulfillment of the Abrahamic Covenant, the Covenant of Grace and the Covenant of Redemption.
Areas of Disagreement
Moving on the area of disagreements Malone highlights the differences that exist between paedobaptists and credobaptists regarding the interpretation of a number of New Testament texts regarding the ‘fulfilled “seed” of Abraham’ and whether ‘our physical seed’ are entitled to Baptism as Abraham’s sons were entitled to circumcision. Malone strongly objects to paedobaptists like Berkhof who believe that the Abrahamic Covenant is essentially identical to the New Covenant. He claims that it is on the basis of this false identification that paedobaptists baptize infants.
Malone claims that the Abrahamic promises fulfilled in the New Covenant ‘are not the passing on of covenant signs to infant seed, but the promised outpouring of the Holy Spirit upon His elect Jew and Gentile seeds through faith in Christ.’ Only those who believe in Christ are the true seed of Abraham. Consequently ‘New Covenant baptism must be applied only to those who express faith in Christ.’ This, in Malone’s understanding, means disciples alone.
Definitions of Covenants
Malone compares and contrasts Baptist and paedobaptist understandings of covenant. He criticizes authors like Robert Booth, who ‘expand their definition of a covenant to go beyond the basic etymological and exegetical definition by generalizing from contextual elements found in particular covenants.’ Malone insists that we must establish a basic definition of covenant and then seek to discover the content of each covenant by studying written revelation, rather than impose one definition upon the whole of the Scriptures.
To go beyond the basic definition of a covenant to include physical descendants, conditional promises, curses and blessings in every covenant literally is to put words in the mouth of Scripture. This is a violation of basic hermeneutics and biblical theology.Malone maintains that there are no curses in the New Covenant, as covenant breakers ‘remain cursed in Adam’s Covenant of Works.’ No one in the New Covenant could ever break it. He draws our attention to John Owen’s observation that our definition of covenant will determine our final covenant theology. Having questioned a number of the common paedobaptist definitions he presents us with what he deems to be a ‘covenantal Baptist definition of a covenant’:—
[A] biblical and divine covenant is a solemn promise or oath of God to man, each covenant’s content being determined by revelation concerning that covenant.Malone takes paedobaptists to task for assuming that the covenant idea must ‘automatically have a genealogical or organic element that always includes believers and their seed.’ In opposition to this Malone claims that only elect individuals belong to the Covenant of Grace. He criticizes paedobaptists who seek to maintain the inclusion of the seed of believers in their definition of covenant against the biblical evidence for a Covenant of Grace made with the elect only.
Malone reasons that each covenant is an administration of the covenant of grace with ‘certain external features attached.’ It is unbiblical to use the ‘administratively attached elements of the historical covenants’ to redefine the Covenant of Redemption and the historical Covenant of Grace. Malone claims that it is the error of virtually equating the Abrahamic Covenant with the New Covenant that leads paedobaptists to include organic elements in the Covenant of Grace. Only the New Covenant is the pure Covenant of Grace. ‘The Abrahamic Covenant had primary reference to the coming of Christ as his ultimate physical seed of the New Covenant.’ The Covenant of Grace is the promise of salvation within the Old Testament covenants of promise, which would later be revealed as the New Covenant.
Malone now proceeds to deal with the unity and diversity of the biblical covenants. He admits that both paedobaptists and credobaptists acknowledge some degree of unity and some degree of diversity in the biblical covenants. However, paedobaptist, by exaggerating the unity between the covenants of promise and the New Covenant rob the New Covenant
…of its distinctive glory and proper administration in the church today (i.e., the baptism of disciples alone).Malone argues that paedobaptist authors such as Berkhof are inconsistent when they see the Covenant of Redemption and its historical outworking in the Covenant of Grace as established with the elect alone and then go on to maintain that this does not mean that the ‘nonelect are outside of the Covenant of Grace in every sense of the word.’ For Malone it is important to stress that the Covenant of Grace is made only with the elect.
Malone calls us to recognize that the organic elements within the Abrahamic Covenant were only there until the ‘seed to whom the promises were made was born.’
…the genealogical element of the historical Old Testament covenants was necessary only to bring forth the final physical seed of Abraham to whom the promises were made, Jesus Christ (Galatians 3:16, 19) and His “seed” (Galatians 3:29) who have clothed themselves with Christ through faith alone.Malone contends that in the New Covenant emphasis shifts ‘from family relations to individual responsibility and membership.’ Christ is the ‘covenant Head of a new family’ — the true seed of Abraham — and so the seed of believers should not be included in the covenant. Malone adduces the prophecy of Jeremiah 31:27-34 as proof of the ‘individualistic element’ of the New Covenant. The New Covenant only includes regenerate individuals; a ‘personal relationship to Jesus Christ’ is required for membership. Paedobaptists fail to recognize the biblical evidence that the New Covenant ‘is an effectual covenant that guarantees realized blessings in each and every member.’
Common Ground?
I must admit that I have many problems concerning the areas of agreement that Malone lists, although I will readily grant that I am atypical of Reformed Christians in this respect. Nevertheless, I believe that some of these differences have bearing upon the question of Baptism. Whilst I may not explicitly articulate their full bearing on the debate, I trust that it will become apparent in time.
The Covenant of Redemption
I would begin by taking issue with Malone’s understanding of the doctrine of the Covenant of Redemption and election. The following are some of the concerns that I have:—
Malone fails to centre his doctrine of election on Christ. I believe that Christ should be the fixed point in our doctrine of election. Christ is the content of the electing decree. God’s purpose in history is to gather all things together in Christ. Individuals are certainly part of this, but God’s saving purpose is far broader than the salvation of individuals (and certainly far broader than the salvation of individuals as individuals). If we do not see the content of the decree revealed in Christ we will be in continual danger of crippling doubt concerning our own eternal election. Election is not to be thought of as some hidden decree about us, but as a revealed decree concerning Christ (although I must admit that I find the language of ‘decree’ a bit unhelpful). Election should be far more rooted in our understanding of the eternal interpersonal communion of the Trinity, as election is essentially the Trinitarian will to open up this communion to the Church as the new humanity in Christ.
Once we appreciate that Christ is the content of the electing decree, election ceases to appear arbitrary, as some dark cloud preventing us from seeing God’s true purpose. God’s purpose is clearly revealed in covenant. To live faithfully in covenant with God is to know the reality of God’s election. We are brought into relationship with Christ in the Church, through the Word, Baptism, the Eucharist, prayer, fellowship, etc. Having brought us into relationship with Christ in the Church, God calls us to abide in the One in whom our election is found. We make our calling and election sure by remaining in Him.
We are not truly ‘elect’ (in the way the Bible uses this terminology) apart from a (historically established) relationship with Christ. Our election is an election derived from the Head of the new humanity, who was chosen before time began. Just as the election of individual Israelites depended entirely upon the relationship that they bore to the patriarchs in whom they were chosen, so our election depends entirely upon the relationship that we bear to Christ in whom our election is found. A real living and organic union is necessary. Just as a circumcised Jew was to think of himself as chosen in Abraham out of Ur of the Chaldeans, so the baptized Christian is to think of himself as chosen in Christ before time began. In ourselves we are not chosen before time began, this is only true of us as we find our existence in Christ. Our election presupposes a living relationship with the Elect One in covenant.
This may seem to be a radical take on the doctrine of election, but I am increasingly convinced that the scriptural data will bear it out in a number of respects. Firstly, the way the Bible uses the language of election to refer to those in the ‘visible’ Church. Secondly, this approach builds our understanding of salvation around Christ rather than around a select group of individuals chosen from all eternity. Thirdly, it explains why a number of the biblical references to election can only make sense if they are limited to individuals who are actually faithful members of the Church and do not make sense if they refer to a group of individuals chosen before time began who may or may not have become members of the people of God in history (e.g. Romans 8:33; Titus 1:1). Fourthly, I believe that it is far more consistent with the concept of ‘union with Christ’ as developed in Scripture. This concept does not seem to be rooted in a mere ‘decretal’ union, but in a living ‘perichoretic’ union. I submit that the common Reformed understanding of verses such as Ephesians 1:4 leads to a distortion of the biblical teaching of union with Christ.
By starting with his particular view of election, Malone can go on to relativize the Church. For many God holds out a smiling mask to all in the visible Church, but only truly smiles upon the elect. If Christ is not the content of election than we must always be suspicious of the means of grace; they are only truly efficacious for the elect and no one really knows who ‘they’ are. Furthermore, the organic nature of salvation can be ignored. Election is of isolated individuals. Whilst God may well use the Church as the means to bring them to Himself, the Church is merely functional throughout. The Church becomes little more than a divinely instituted organization for the facilitation of individual salvation, rather than the fulfillment of the salvation itself (this is an essential point that I will explore in more depth in a later post).
Malone will later use the idea that the Covenant of Grace is made with the elect (conceived of as secretly chosen by God from eternity) alone to attack the ‘organic’ elements introduced by paedobaptists. The secret decree of election also casts doubt upon the reality present in the ‘visible church’. Once we view the electing decree in the manner that Malone views it, the claim that the children of believers are in the Covenant of Grace seems far less tenable. God’s electing decree is unshackled by all of the temporal relationships that exist between individuals. In the electing decree individuals are pure individuals, conceived of apart from any historical relationships. Any organic and historical elements in God’s historical dealings belong merely to the administration of the Covenant of Grace and cannot belong to its essence. Malone will play on the problematic nature of the relationship between the 'electing decree' and the 'decree to create' in Reformed theology to undermine the organic created order by the decree. Of course, if we centre creation and election on Christ these things are not anywhere near as problematic (I am essentially a supralapsarian who sees Christ as the object of the electing 'decree').
My vision of election is diametrically opposed to that of Malone. The content of God’s saving purpose is revealed gradually over history and most fully in Christ. In Christ we see that God’s purpose is the bringing of all things together in Him. This purpose is most fully revealed in the Church where Christ has established the means whereby we will be brought to fullness (Ephesians 4:11-16). It is quite clear that it is not an ‘invisible church’ that is in mind here; Christ’s body is very visible. For this reason we should never use the doctrine of election to relativize the doctrine of the Church. If God’s purpose is the formation of one new man in Christ Jesus, election is primarily the election of the Church in Christ. We are elect if we are living faithfully in relationship with Christ in the Church. Once we see the clear relationship between election and the Church, we must admit that ‘organic’ elements are essential to the doctrine of election. It is these organic elements that provide for the ‘bringing together’ of all things in Christ.
Malone believes that in the New Covenant God’s saving purpose is clearly seen as the ‘organic’ elements of the Old Covenant fall away. Malone seems to conceive of God’s electing purpose as designed to save individuals alone. This is why I believe that it is important to tackle his view of the Covenant of Redemption and election.
The Covenant of Works
Malone claims the Covenant of Works as another area of agreement between paedobaptists and covenantal Baptists. Malone understands the Covenant of Works to be a system of salvation whereby individuals could earn their own salvation through keeping the law. Whilst Malone denies that the Sinaitic Covenant was a ‘renewed Covenant of Works’, he clearly believes that the pre-Fall Covenant with Adam operated according to a ‘Pelagian’ principle of strict merit.
This is a doctrine that I have very seriously difficulties with. I do not see that the Covenant of Works is taught in Scripture. When God created Adam He created Adam within a blessed relationship, not into a system where Adam had to amass brownie points with God. Adam certainly had to mature in relationship with God. As he was faithful to God, Adam would be perfected in his relationship with God. Creation was given to man as communion with God and was sacramental from the outset. There is ample positive scriptural evidence that God created man in a gracious relationship with Himself and that man did not have to ‘earn’ divine favour. There is no such thing as a divine communion that is not thoroughly gracious.
Many of the problems with the Covenant of Works doctrine are ably dealt with in this essay by Rich Lusk [I have linked to Google’s HTML version of the document; I’m not sure if the original is still available]. One of the key problems with the Covenant of Works doctrine is that it functions as the fundamental covenant model in many respects. Christ saves us by being a successful Pelagian, racking up oodles of supererogatory brownie points to liberally sign over to our heavenly ‘bank accounts’ of merit. Whilst this is somewhat of a caricature, it is not too far removed from the position that many advocates of the Covenant of Works maintain.
In opposition to this approach, I am persuaded that it is the covenantal relationships that exist within the Trinity that should provide the foundation for our understanding of historical covenants. The historical covenants are essentially God’s opening up of the eternal interpersonal relationships of the Trinity to embrace human persons; man is brought into the eternal communion of God. I would highly recommend Jeff Meyer’s talk on covenant at the Connecticut Valley Conference on Reformed Theology for an insightful treatment of this subject.
If, as Ralph Smith suggests in his book Eternal Covenant: How the Trinity Reshapes Covenant Theology, we are to see the Trinitarian ‘Covenant’ as paradigmatic, the Covenant of Works doctrine has to be abandoned as unbiblical. Covenant is not something added on to creation; creation is essentially covenantal. Man was graciously created in the image of God and in true communion with Him. Man did not have to ‘earn his salvation’ as he was already in a gracious covenant relationship with God. All man had to do was to abide in this covenant. As this covenant was gracious the idea of the pre-Fall covenant serving the purpose of providing the ‘machinery’ by which man could pull himself up by his bootstraps and save himself must be rejected outright.
Does all of this have any bearing upon the Baptism debate? I am convinced that it does. The Covenant of Works doctrine teaches us that in his original created state, man was not in a true relationship of grace with God. Grace is essentially something that has to be added to the created order to make up for the deficiency of the natural order itself. Grace is discontinuous with the created order, rather than restoring and perfecting it. Either God operates entirely outside the order of creation, or His work represents a suspension of the order of creation.
As Joel Garver observes, in a quote in Rich Lusk’s article:—
Regarding the analogous relationship between post-Tridentine nature/grace dichotomies and the covenant of works/grace [dichotomy] … the issue isn’t just one of works vs. grace, but involves the very way in which grace is conceived of as operating. If nature (or creation) is a self-enclosed system that is not always-already grace and graciously directed to an eschatological end, then grace will always remain extrinsic to the original created order, whether conceived of as “natural” or “covenantal.”All of this throws into sharp relief one of the key pillars of baptistic theology. The Baptist argument (and Malone’s is no exception), as P. Richard Flinn recognized in his helpful article “Baptism, Redemptive History, and Eschatology: The Parameters of Debate” in The Failure of the American Baptist culture, is founded upon a particular reading of redemptive history—
The Covenant of Works/Grace dichotomy employed by Malone enables him to maintain the nature/grace distinction that lies at the heart of the Baptist argument. If God’s grace is truly at work in nature, healing, restoring and perfecting the broken order of Creation, then the organic relationships of the family cannot pass from the purview of redemption. God’s grace has to work through the created channel of the family. If God’s New Covenant grace does not operate through the relationship between parents and their children, then creation is not truly being redeemed. We should never permit eschatology to become an attack upon protology. G.C. Berkouwer writes:—In all of these statements there is a distinct movement in redemptive history postulated. The Kingdom of God progresses from the external to the internal, from the temporal to the eternal, from the fleshly to the spiritual, from the earthly to the heavenly, from the visible to the invisible, from the objective to the subjective, from the corporate to the individual.
This is baptist eschatology in a nutshell. It is not a new development in the history of theology. The only theological ground on which the Anabaptists could defend themselves against the Reformed was to posit a similar “development” in redemptive history. They began with a contrast between nature and grace, the revivified platonism made popular by the Schoolmen. As redemption unfolded it became more and more “spiritual” and less and less “natural.” The Reformers started from the different position. Rejecting the dichotomy between nature and grace, they insisted on the contrast being between sin and righteousness. So Berkouwer: “The Reformers, however, always maintained that the contrast was not between nature and grace, but between flesh and spirit, sin and grace…”
…eschatology cannot furnish an argument against infant baptism, for life is not threatened in the salvation of God in Jesus Christ, but reconciled and blessed. The grace of Christ in the Covenant of God does not destroy life, but resurrects it, as the circumcision of the Old Covenant touched common life with the seal of purification. When this Covenant is fulfilled, that common life is also saved. Eschatology does not contrast with that life but fills it with God’s salvation. That is why God’s speaking in the New Covenant is not a speaking in an individualistic style, as if men were detached from the obligations of the “old” world, but the Word of God comes to man in the full reality of his life, as it did under the Old Covenant.The Covenant of Grace
I have already expressed my dissatisfaction with Malone’s understanding of the Covenant of Redemption and the doctrine of election. Malone believes that the Covenant of Grace is made with the elect alone. Given my differences his understanding of election, my differences with his understanding of the Covenant of Grace should be plain. To be a member of the historical Church of Jesus Christ is to be a member of the Covenant of Grace. Again I differ from Malone in believing that it is possible to apostatize from the Covenant of Grace. This is something that I will argue for at a later point.
I do not agree with Malone's claim that ‘the Covenant of Grace begins with the promise of Genesis 3:15’ if by that he means that the Covenant with Adam was not itself gracious. I would have difficulties with Malone’s understanding of limited atonement (something that I have written about elsewhere). I believe that, in our understanding of the atonement, we should view it more as the destruction of the old order destroyed by sin and the creation of a new humanity in Christ than as a ‘payment’ for a discrete number of sins committed. As Tom Smail observes—
If we take such a view of the atonement it is also harder to abstract it from history in the manner that Malone seems to do (i.e. we should be cautious about reading the benefits of the atonement back into the Old Testament). I am also less comfortable with seeing Christ as the direct object of Old Covenant faith. The Old Covenant order certainly prefigured and anticipated Christ throughout, but God’s historical work of salvation is broader than the death and resurrection of Christ. The death and resurrection of Christ is the climax of God’s redemptive historical work and the foundation of the new world order. Nevertheless, it is the climax of a work of salvation that was ongoing before the incarnation. Malone claims that ‘the way of salvation has been by grace through faith in God’s provision of that “seed of the woman” since the fall of man.’ The first part of this statement is pretty unobjectionable; the only thing I would say is that life in covenant with God was, even for Adam, by grace through faith — we are not dealing with a mere post-Fall principle here. On the second part of the statement I would be more inclined to side with Geerhardus Vos:—God’s justice is concerned less with punishing wrong relationships than with restoring right ones…
His justice is less punitive than restorative, he rejects sinners in order to transform them into people who reflect his own holy love in their relationships with him and with one another. It is that drastic transformation, that dying to sin and living to God, that Jesus is accomplishing for all humanity on the cross.
I think that Malone is probably holding his particular position as a result of a misreading of Romans and Galatians. Rather than reading the arguments of these epistles redemptive historically, Malone may be wrenching the concept of justification by pistis Iesou Christou out of its redemptive historical context and universalizing it (of course, I would also disagree with Malone’s objective genitive reading of this expression).As to the word ‘seed’ there is no reason to depart from the collective sense in either case. The seed of the serpent must be collective, and this determines the sense of the seed of the woman. The promise is, that somehow out of the human race a fatal blow will come which shall crush the head of the serpent. Still, indirectly the possibility is hinted at that in striking this fatal blow the seed of the woman will be concentrated in one person… [W]e are not warranted, however, in seeking an exclusively personal reference to the Messiah here, as though He alone were meant by ‘the woman’s seed’. Old Testament Revelation approaches the concept of a personal Messiah very gradually. It sufficed for fallen man to know that through His divine power and grace God would bring out of the human race victory over the serpent. In that faith could rest. The object of their faith was much less definite than that of ours, who know the personal Messiah. But none the less, the essence of this faith, subjectively considered, was the same, viz., trust in God’s grace and power to bring deliverance from sin.
One should observe the nature of the view of redemptive history that this approach leaves Malone with. Salvation has always been by faith in Jesus Christ. In the Old Covenant Christ anticipated in a number of ways; the people had outward ceremonies that prefigured Him, the ‘organic’, ‘generational’ element of the covenant looked forward to His birth. However, now that Christ has come, these ‘external’ prefiguring layers can be cast off; the outer husk of the covenant was only necessary before the seed was clearly revealed. Malone seems to view ‘continuity’ and ‘discontinuity’ more in terms of removing certain ‘layers’ of the covenant whilst preserving others.
Malone’s understanding of covenant theology seems to run along this sort of line: historical covenants are all administrations of the one Covenant of Grace which is the outworking of the Covenant of Redemption. The essential ‘heart’ of each covenantal administration is the one Covenant of Grace. However, in each covenant there are also extraneous elements that belong to the ‘administration’ of the covenant. As redemptive history progresses these extraneous elements are gradually shed and the New Covenant reveals the Covenant of Grace in its full individualistic glory. The ‘extraneous’ elements belonging to the covenantal administration (e.g. the sign of the covenant being applied to the infant seed) are not, of course, arbitrary. They anticipate the fullness that is to come. However, their purpose is primarily illustrative and typological and they are to be dispensed with when the ‘reality’ has come, rather than being continued in a more glorious way.
My understanding of redemptive history is quite different. Continuity and discontinuity is not to be understood as gradual removal of layers over the essential covenant heart. They are better understood as an organic development, like a child growing to maturity. The final form that the covenant takes is very different from its initial form. However, the development does not occur by means of shedding extraneous elements; it occurs as every element of the original order is raised to a higher level. The New Covenant order is certainly radically different from the Old Covenant order (like Malone, I disagree with those who identify the New Covenant and the Abrahamic Covenant too closely). However, its differences do not result from a removal of extraneous elements of the Old Covenant order, but from the fulfillment of the old order in its entirety in a new glorified order. The New Covenant does not destroy the organic principle of the Old Covenant but truly perfects it. The family unit is not suddenly abandoned by the form of salvation proclaimed by the New Covenant. The family unit can be saved and perfected by the Church.
Defining Covenant
I am not particularly drawn to tidy definitions of the meaning of the word ‘covenant’. The concept of ‘covenant’ is so rooted in the redemptive historical narrative of Scripture that it is hard to abstract and define it. I fear that (as Alexander Schmemann observes in regard to defining the sacraments) this approach leads us to isolate the concept of 'covenant' from its context to discover its true essence, which distinguishes it from that which is ‘non-covenantal’. But is anything ‘non-covenantal’? The problems of such an approach should be immediately apparent. Covenant is essential both to the being of God and to the being of His creation. There is no aspect of creation that lacks covenantal significance. Everything must be understood in terms of covenant. For this reason any definition that sees covenant in terms of ‘essential’ and ‘administratively attached’ elements should be treated with great suspicion; it is incipient Gnosticism.
If covenant is essential to the being of creation, as I have argued, then it becomes clear that claims like Malone’s are based upon an understanding in which God gradually abandons elements of His original good creation, only retaining certain more important elements, like the individual’s eternal soul. However, the idea that God abandons the created order rather than redeeming it is clearly not a Christian idea. Malone claims that ‘to go beyond the basic definition of a covenant to include physical descendants … is to put words in the mouth of Scripture.’ I contend that to exclude physical descendents is to reveal a dangerously unorthodox view of the relationship between nature and grace, creation and redemption.
Malone claims that ‘the genealogical element of the historical Old Testament covenants was necessary only to bring forth the final physical seed of Abraham to whom the promises were made.’ If this is true, then why did strangers joining Israel for the Passover Feast have to circumcise all of their males before participating (Exodus 12:48)? They were not physical descendents of Abraham, nor would they be the male seed through whom the Messiah would come. One might argue that this was necessary so that they might provide women for the males through whom the Messiah would come to marry. However, there are examples of women from uncircumcised stock within the genealogy of Christ (e.g. Ruth). Again, if Malone is right, why did Abraham circumcise Ishmael? There seems to be more to the ‘genealogical element’ than Malone is willing to grant (I will probably explore this more in a later post).
Much of Malone’s case rests on his argument for a shift in covenant emphasis ‘from family relations to individual responsibility and membership.’ This raises the question: what exactly is the New Covenant? It is this question that I aim to address in my next post.
Should Young Children ever be Barred from Communion?
Whilst it would certainly be a freak occurrence to excommunicate a child, I remain convinced that it is essential to bar children on some occasions. For example, if a young child refuses to forgive one of their brothers or sisters and be reconciled with them, I think that it is appropriate to bar them from participating until they have sorted out the problem.
It would be terrible if a child was brought up to think in terms of a separation between the ecclesial Body of Christ and the sacramental Body of Christ, to be able to recognize the Real Presence in the Supper and deny the Real Presence in the Church. One of the biggest errors in many people’s doctrine and practice of the Eucharist is individualism. By permitting children to hold grudges against others and still participate in the Supper we are reinforcing the notion that their relationship with Christ is essentially an individual thing that can be abstracted from the relationships that they bear to members of His Body. Many of the arguments for paedocommunion rightly focus on the importance of the relationship between the ecclesial Body and the sacramental Body. To recognize the Body is to seek to maintain unity within the ecclesial Body and to shun division, to recognize the Real Presence in brothers and sisters in Christ. I believe that it is important to maintain this biblical emphasis in practice by being prepared to bar children who wish to maintain divisions in the Body of Christ.
Many might claim that two young children falling out is not that serious a thing and we should not bar children who hold grudges for this reason. I wonder whether such people take seriously the fact that Christ is truly present at the Table and in our eating. Where Christ is present refusing to repent of sin cannot be seen as a light thing. Children should be taught the importance of the Eucharist. They should be well aware of how serious a thing it is to be held back from participating, as the Eucharist is central to the Christian life. The threat of withholding participation in the Eucharist for open impenitence should challenge young children to grow up with a knowledge of the serious nature of sin and its consequences for fellowship with God. They should also be aware of the fact that since Christ is present in the Supper they should not come without repenting of things in their lives which are not in accord with His Word. They should be well aware that no one approaching the Table in impenitence can expect a blessing from the hand of God.
I am not persuaded that holding to the practice of paedocommunion necessitates a low view of self-examination at the Supper. Quite the opposite. The practice of paedocommunion is a very powerful tool for raising children in true piety. The Eucharist teaches children the joy of being in God’s presence and the solemnity of eating Christ’s Body and drinking His Blood. The Eucharist teaches children the necessity of living lives shaped by penitence, faith and thanksgiving. If we allow children to participate in a manner that denies the reality of the Supper we do them no service.
I fear that many are in danger of training children to view the Supper as an extrinsic miracle that brings blessing even if we despise it in the way that we partake. If we see the ecclesial Body and the sacramental Body as quite discrete we will either make the Supper into an empty sign or an extrinsic miracle. If the Supper is an extrinsic miracle (as it is in some, but not all, formulations of the doctrine of transubstantiation) then our lives can no longer be truly sacramental. The symbolic is dissociated from the real. Such a view of the Supper ultimately serves to separate us from the life of Christ. ‘Grace’ is discontinuous with and extrinsic to ‘nature’; at best it is like oil and water. Grace is imposed upon creation from without rather than filling creation from within.
Extreme views of transubstantiation and Zwinglian understandings of the Supper have this in common: they both draw sharp distinctions between the real and the symbolic, between grace and nature. Both downplay the physical ritual involved in the Supper. In the case of extreme views of transubstantiation, the reality annihilates the symbol rather than giving us a symbol that participates in the reality without ceasing to be a symbol. Zwinglian notions situate the reality outside of the symbol and cannot allow for real union between the two. The Eucharist becomes a symbol of death and absence, rather than a symbol of life and presence.
I am convinced that we should see the symbol as a genuine participation in the reality. Paedocommunion makes far more sense when we understand the Eucharist in this way. However, such a view of the Eucharist will also serve to discourage us from allowing young children to participate in an unworthy manner. The Eucharist is not an extrinsic miracle that emphasizes the division between the real and the symbolic; the Eucharist lies at the heart of symbol and, consequently, at the heart of true reality — the reality that the Christian Church brings us into. The Eucharist is the centre around which the sacramental life must revolve. People of any age who are consciously and openly refusing to live sacramental lives — by forgiveness, reconciliation, peacemaking, thanksgiving, self-giving, etc. —should not be given a place at the Supper until they have repented.
I have a personal reason for seeing the importance of calling young children to lives of repentance and forgiveness. At the age of four I had an acute sense of personal guilt when I read I John 2:9-10. I knew full well that I could not claim to love God whilst bearing a deep-rooted hatred for my two year old brother Jonathan. Fortunately my parents did not take this sin lightly and I was forced to deal with it. Had I been given the impression that I could enjoy fellowship with God without sorting out this problem first, I would have been spiritually abused. Knowing the intense feeling of joy and liberation in fellowship with God that arrived after I sorted out my relationship with Jonathan, I would not want to rob any young child of the same experience or deceive them into thinking that forgiving others is not that necessary if we wish to enjoy a relationship with God. This occasion had a very profound and formative effect upon my early life as one of many ‘conversion experiences’.
Children badly need the training that the Lord’s Supper provides. We should not defraud them of the immense blessing that attends participation in the Body and Blood of our Lord. However, we need to remember that discipline is essential to the practice of the Lord’s Supper. Unforgiving and impenitent people are not welcome at the Supper. We should train children to keep short accounts with God and with others so that they can participate in weekly covenant renewal. They need to learn to live sacramental lives. Many practices could help to train our children in this way. Perhaps young children should be encouraged to give each member of their family a hug before participating. Simple things like this can ensure that the reality of the Supper is not denied by the manner in which we participate in it.
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
Monday, February 23, 2004
Mode of Baptism
Scots Divines on Baptism I
Scots Divines on Baptism II
Scots Divines on Baptism III
Friday, February 20, 2004
Critique of Dr. Fred Malone on Baptism — Part 4
The Problem of Paedocommunion
Malone begins the second chapter of his book by giving us an account of the first doubts that led him to reexamine the issue of paedobaptism.
The thorny problem that bothered me was that all children of the household, especially those circumcised, seemed to partake of the Passover as well (Exodus 12:24, 43-51). Because there was no command prohibiting their participation, then it seemed good and necessary to infer that they did in fact participate, thus opening the way for paedocommunion.Malone was troubled by the inconsistency of most Presbyterians in practicing paedobaptism and yet denying paedocommunion. He struggled with the text of Exodus 12 and yet could not persuade himself that children were excluded from the meal. He maintains that there is nothing in the text of Exodus 12 to exclude children from participating in the Passover and ‘several positive indications that they did so.’ If one were to apply the ‘good and necessary’ inference that supports paedobaptism, one should take seriously the issue of paedocommunion.
As Malone began to explore the question more closely he found it ‘disturbing’ to observe a difference in the understanding of Louis Berkhof and John Murray on the issue. Berkhof maintained that, whilst children partook of the Passover, the NT demand for self-examination and discernment prevents them from participating. Malone wonders why Berkhof did not allow ‘the positive commands and examples in the New Testament to repent and believe before baptism’ to override the OT command to apply the covenant sign to infants.
On the other hand, John Murray argues that infants did not partake of the Passover, claiming that the assumption of their participation is based on silence and that the diet was unsuitable. Malone feels that such a conclusion is untenable and utterly inconsistent with Murray’s argument for paedobaptism. If we are not permitted to assume the presence of infants taking the Passover in the OT, we should not assume that infants were baptized in the New Testament.
Malone agreed with Berkhof’s conclusion that children participated in the Passover. The next month he received an article in a newsletter that argued for paedocommunion. However, as he read the argument he could not bring himself to accept its conclusions. He felt that the command of self-examination ruled out infant participation and recognized that they was no positive command or example of including infants or small children in the Supper in the New Testament. Malone writes:—
The first is an argument of instituted precept, and the second an argument of silence and inference. The second may also be used in a negative way, as it is by paedobaptists, to state that there is no prohibition of infants from baptism either. However, the latter argument must rely upon supposed good and necessary inference from the Old Testament when interpreting a New Testament sacrament instituted by Christ, rather than depending upon New Testament revelation to institute and define New Testament sacraments and delineate participation in them. Simply put, true good and necessary inference cannot overrule that which is expressly set down in Scripture.In my previous post I observed that Malone holds to a very narrow form of the regulative principle that cannot permit normative principles from the OT to regulate our practice of NT sacraments. It should be recognized that Malone’s second argument against paedocommunion is illustrative of just such an approach. Its persuasive power rests on the assumption that the normative teaching for the practice of NT sacraments is found only in the NT. I believe that this may serve as an indication that inconsistencies in Malone’s hermeneutics played a significant role in precipitating his movement towards the Baptist position; having adopted a Baptist hermeneutic it was only a matter of time until he abandoned the practice of infant Baptism.
In passing, it is interesting to observe that Malone gives Exodus 12:1-4 & 16 as proof-texts for women participating in communion. It is hard to see exactly how this is not a case of relying upon ‘supposed good and necessary inference from the Old Testament when interpreting a New Testament sacrament instituted by Christ, rather than depending upon New Testament revelation to institute and define New Testament sacraments and delineate participation in them.’
Having studied the question of paedocommunion, Malone became convinced against it. He writes:—
I concluded that both the New Testament command and example dictate that the subjects for the Lord’s Supper observance be only believers who are capable not only of understanding the meaning of the supper but also of examining their inward spiritual motivation in taking it.Malone was now left with a number of important questions. Accepting the practice of infant communion was clearly out of the question he needed to discover what had changed in the ‘application of the covenant family concept from the Old Covenant administration to the New Covenant administration.’ He questioned why the NT ‘precept and example’ is ‘sufficient to deny paedocommunion but insufficient to deny paedobaptism.’ Those questions brought Malone back to basic hermeneutical questions.
Malone’s Hermeneutics
Malone began the first section of his book by stating:—
The hermeneutical principles necessary to settle the question are usually agreed upon by both Baptists and paedobaptists.Within his second chapter Malone goes through ten key principles in hermeneutics that evangelicals hold in common. These ten principles are as follows:—
- Inspiration and inerrancy of Scripture
- Literal-grammatical-historical method. We must pay attention to the ordinary meaning of words in current use and biblical use, to the grammar of the original languages and the historical and cultural background of the text.
- The analogy of faith. Scripture interprets Scripture. This ‘limits the unbounded paedobaptist application of good and necessary inference when it contradicts God-given revelation concerning an instituted sacrament.’
- Perspicuity of Scripture. ‘…Scripture is clear enough that the common Christian should be convinced of their beliefs from the Scripture alone without blindly following respected teachers.’ Malone acknowledges that gifted teachers are still necessary.
- The unity of Scripture. The OT and NT are not contradictory but complementary.
- The diversity of Scripture. Some sort of distinction between the OT and the NT is necessary due to God’s progressive revelation in history.
- The finality and clarity of the New Testament. We cannot add to the NT. It is clearer than the OT and ‘finally and authoritatively interprets Old Testament types and shadows…’
- The priority of the New Testament. We must have a ‘final dependence upon the New Testament revelation to determine how the Old Testament is fulfilled in [the New Testament].’ The NT is the ‘inspired commentary’ on the OT.
This is why the Lord Jesus Christ declared His authority over Old Testament and noninstituted forms of worship (John 4:21-24), charging His apostles to teach the church to do what He actually commanded (Matthew 28:20)…. The teachings of Jesus and His apostles are the standard of Old Testament interpretation (Ephesians 2:20).
- The typology of Scripture. We must not require an OT prophecy to be fulfilled in an exact literal form; nor should we read too much back into the OT.
…paedobaptist covenantalists make the opposite error. They erroneously attempt to make the Old Testament “church in the wilderness” virtually identical to the New Testament church…. The church in the wilderness is simply the typological shadow of the New Testament revealed form, not requiring literal correspondence in every element, as dispensationalists require.
- Priority between hermeneutical principles. The meaning of Scripture is one and no part of Scripture contradicts another. The near context is always more determinative than the far context. A didactic or systematic discussion of a subject is more significant than a historical or descriptive narrative. Explicit teaching is more significant than supposed implications. Literal passages take priority over symbolic ones. Later passages take precedence over earlier passages. Malone charges paedobaptists with ignoring the priority of explicit teaching over supposed implications and the priority of later revelation over earlier.
The paedobaptist principle that whatever is in the Old Testament continues unless it is specifically abrogated in the New Testament actually negates the hermeneutical principle that the New Testament is the final, clearest revelation of God that has final authority to determine how the Old is fulfilled in it…
Malone argues that the principle that the revelation of the OT must not be interpreted in opposition to NT revelation is crucial for the Baptism debate. By ‘refusing to allow the New Testament to have final priority to determine the subjects of New Testament baptism, paedobaptists commit the same hermeneutical error as dispensationalists.’ He draws attention to the fact that many of the errors of the normative principle of worship arise from a failure to give the NT priority and carrying over practices from the OT. Malone accuses paedobaptist authors like Pierre Marcel of ‘inventing’ new worship practices. Malone also argues that the hermeneutic of theonomy is the exact same hermeneutic that is used to justify infant Baptism, the hermeneutic that OT law and principles continue unless specifically abrogated by the NT.
Malone concludes his second chapter by presenting what he deems appropriate principles of interpretation for Christian Baptism. He contends that we should not become ‘New Testament-only’ Christians but that we should maintain the unity of Scripture. The OT can train and teach us, is full of examples for our instruction and continues to exert authority over the Christian in the ‘continuance of the Moral Law’. Malone goes on to claim that
The New Testament also describes the unity between the two testaments in terms of typological promise and fulfillment.The second principle Malone presents is that of the diversity of Scripture.
The New which was in the Old concealed finally has been revealed by the New, explaining in a final authoritative way how it was concealed in the Old.The final principle that Malone presents is the principle that the NT has the final authority ‘to describe, institute and explain the New Covenant fulfillment of the Old Testament prophecies and types.’ Malone argues that if we consistently apply these principles we will not permit good and necessary inference from the Old Testament to carry more weight than the explicit New Testament command and example. We will then see the necessity of abandoning the practice of infant Baptism.
Response to Malone’s Argument from Paedocommunion
I am a convinced paedocommunionist. Consequently Malone’s argument carried very little weight with me. However, there are few issues that he addressed that need to be considered more closely.
Inconsistencies in Paedobaptist Arguments
Malone draws our attention to the inconsistency of paedobaptists who are not paedocommunionists. This is a common argument in Baptist polemics — Paul Jewett devotes a whole chapter of his book Infant Baptism & the Covenant of Grace to the subject. It seems apparent to me that there is, in fact, a real inconsistency in this area and I am pleased that God has given us Baptist apologists to remind us of this fact.
It behooves us to give some attention to Malone’s claim of inconsistency. Surely if paedobaptists are inconsistent in so many areas we should doubt the validity of their position. If paedobaptists are continually disagreeing among themselves about almost every aspect of the meaning of Baptism, for example, how much weight can we give to their arguments? If paedobaptists come up with many varying and often contradictory arguments for paedobaptism, how can we accept the position?
These are important objections. Nevertheless I do not feel that they are unanswerable. At the outset it is important that we appreciate (as I stated in a previous post) that paedobaptism was not originally practiced on the basis of a deduction from Scripture, either from the Old or from the New Testament. The New Testament sacraments were first practiced on the basis of apostolic institution (1 Corinthians 11:2, 23). Whilst the Scripture supported and governed their practice I have become persuaded that they were not originally practiced on the basis of reasoning from Scripture. For this reason I do not feel that paedobaptists should be in any way ashamed to appeal to tradition in support of the practice of the sacraments (nor should we be surprised when we find silence in the NT concerning the Baptism of infants). Although I believe that Scripture is sufficient to justify the practice apart from any appeal to tradition, I find it regrettable that we are so easily discouraged from appealing to tradition in this matter. Tradition, of course, cannot have final determining power (which belongs to Scripture), but I believe that it places the burden of proof squarely upon Baptists who would wish to overthrow it.
It is also necessary to stress the fact that a practice may be justified even though we may be unaware of how to justify it. The mere presence of inconsistencies of paedobaptist arguments should not be taken as proof that paedobaptism is invalid. Erroneous arguments for paedobaptism should not be taken as proof that the practice of paedobaptism is itself in error. We should also realize that there are plenty of contradictory arguments put forward for the practice of credobaptism.
I believe that we ought to take an ‘innocent until proven guilty’ attitude towards the practice of infant Baptism on the basis of tradition. In this regard I disagree with Malone, who believes that we should deem it guilty until proven innocent. I do not believe that my position heralds a return to the normative principle with traditions of men being permitted if not explicitly forbidden. I believe that the form of the regulative principle I advocated in my previous post provides us with clear ways in which to sort corrupt traditions from biblical traditions. If infant Baptism is not scriptural it will be demonstrably so.
I am not as troubled as some are concerning the contradictory arguments that are presented in support of the practice of infant Baptism by paedobaptists. In my mind the most important thing is that it is practiced.
I am encouraged that many paedobaptists have begun to recognize the same inconsistencies as Baptists are wont to draw their attention to. Of course, recognizing these inconsistencies does not necessitate becoming Baptist. In recent years many, becoming convinced that they have been too ‘baptistic’ in their thinking many paedobaptists have abandoned large tracts of common ground that they once shared with Baptists. Many paedobaptists, if convinced that the denial of paedocommunion is incompatible with the practice of paedobaptism would far more readily adopt paedocommunion than abandon paedobaptism. John Murray writes:—
At the outset it should be admitted that if paedobaptists are inconsistent in this discrimination [between admitting infants to Baptism and permitting them to participate in the Eucharist], then the relinquishment of infant baptism is not the only way of resolving the inconsitency. It could be resolved by going in the other direction, namely, that of admitting infants to the Lord’s supper. And when all factors entering into this dispute are taken into account, particularly the principle involved in infant baptism, then far less would be at stake in admitting infants to the Lord’s supper than would be at stake in abandoning infant baptism. This will serve to point up the significance of infant baptism in the divine economy of grace.Paedocommunion
Malone’s arguments against paedocommunion are very weak and have been thoroughly answered by a number of authors. I would strongly recommend that anyone who wishes to find out more on this subject would take the time to read Tim Gallant’s book Feed My Lambs. He also runs a website that contains a number of articles that fully address the objections Malone raises.
Any reader of Malone’s argument against paedocommunion will be well aware that it is thoroughly founded upon the rationalistic understanding of the ‘Puritan theory’ (as John Williamson Nevin called it). The Puritans have left us many riches and I have a great appreciation for them. However, I am disheartened by the fact that many Reformed people today seem to spend the majority of their time disinterring the worst parts of their legacy. One of the dangerous errors that the Puritans have bequeathed to us is that of rationalism. By holding to the primacy of the intellect Puritans emasculated worship. Their great emphasis on the Word in worship was frequently a result of their belief that God only addresses the will and the emotions through the mind. It also can be seen to underlie the strict regulative principle. I will not give a critique of a rationalistic view of the Supper at this time; I have done this elsewhere (see here, here, here and in my series on physical eating in the Eucharist).
Malone’s swift dismissal of paedocommunion is a weak point in his argument. If his arguments against paedocommunion are invalid his argument against paedobaptism is seriously compromised.
Critique of Malone’s Hermeneutics
I must admit that I was quite disheartened studying Malone’s presentation of the hermeneutical principles that supposedly bind evangelicals together. Unfortunately he is right in his statement that the principles he presents are ‘usually agreed upon by both Baptists and paedobaptists.’ The hermeneutical principles that Malone presents are quite clearly baptistic principles. Whilst paedobaptists should agree with the validity of most of these principles, they certainly do not provide the sufficient basis for the discussion of Baptism, that Malone seems to suggest they do. They are dangerously deficient in a number of areas.
Before I begin to study them in more depth, I would like to express some irritation with Malone’s constant misrepresentations of paedobaptist theology. The argument for paedobaptism is not based upon the wooden hermeneutic of theonomy. Nor do we use the OT to contradict the NT. Nor do we try to make the OT church in the wilderness ‘virtually identical’ to the NT church. Malone presents the paedobaptist case as if it was a case of choosing the OT teaching over the NT teaching. This is grossly untrue. All of these claims of Malone’s are part of the caricature that he paints of paedobaptist teaching.
With regard to Malone’s hermeneutical principles, the first important observation to make is that there is no real mention of the Church. The impression given is that the task of interpretation can move along quite smoothly without the Church. As I have argued for the necessity of the Church in interpretation at more length in my first post, I will not repeat the same arguments here. Suffice it to say that this is an error of no mean proportions. Interpreting the perspicuity of Scripture without real reference to the importance of the Church will only lead to problems down the line. There are many Jehovah’s Witnesses who believe that the Bible is perspicuous and that it doesn’t teach the central doctrines of the Christian faith. The truth of the perspicuity of Scripture should not be wrenched out of the context of the Church.
The Limitations of the Grammatical-Historical Method
Following on from this observation, it should be noticed that this approach to Scripture is very rationalistic. There is no real emphasis upon the role of the Spirit in interpreting the words of Scripture. The meaning of the Scripture can never be limited to its mere grammatical-historical meaning. A reading of the text that goes no further than the mere grammatical and historical reading has failed. The hermeneutical principles that Malone presents give priority to natural intelligence over faith. Such hermeneutics seem to presuppose the objectivity of the exegete and imply Scripture is best interpreted by a detached scientific method rather than by the spiritual and involved reading of faith.
If Malone were to place more emphasis upon faith and the Spirit in interpretation he would have to recognize a deeper sense to Scripture than the mere grammatical-historical sense. If we truly have the mind of Christ conveyed to us in the Scriptures we cannot argue that its meaning is exhausted by the grammatical-historical sense. I fear that an over-emphasis upon grammatical-historical reading of the Scripture can merely be an indication of an unwillingness to acknowledge our dependency upon the Spirit and the Church when interpreting Scripture.
To Malone’s credit, he does deal with the importance of typology. Typology enables us to move to some degree beyond the bare grammatical-historical reading of Scripture. Unfortunately most evangelicals (I suspect Malone is among them), even though they might accept the importance of typology, have a very narrow view of it. Typology is effectively shackled by the grammatical-historical method of interpretation. I have no problem with the grammatical-historical method grounding typology, but I do have a problem with an approach that does not recognize that biblical typology runs far deeper than that which is explicitly stated on the pages of the NT. Typology often whispers through the text; we should not discourage people from listening to these whispers. An understanding of biblical typology demands an ear that is finely attuned to the rhythms of the text.
A biblical mode of interpretation should accept the hermeneutics of the apostles as normative. If we are honest with ourselves we will readily admit that the apostles certainly do not abide by the rules of strict grammatical-historical exegesis. Their reading does not so much break the rules of grammatical-historical exegesis as transcend them. I am convinced that this is the sort of reading that we should strive for. This sort of reading demands a spiritual affinity with the text that the scientific grammatical-historical method simply cannot provide. This reading is not arbitrary, but it is not governed by scientific rules like those of the grammatical-historical method.
Whilst nothing I have said should be understood as denying the importance of the grammatical-historical method of interpreting Scripture, I wish to expose some of its serious limitations. Any reading of Scripture that does not go far beyond a grammatical-historical reading has failed to truly engage with the text.
The Old Testament’s relationship to the New
I am also deeply dissatisfied with the manner in which Malone relates the NT to the OT. This dissatisfaction arises in a number of places.
I fear that Malone may be using his particular approach to typology to silence the voice of the OT by instructing it as to what it can and cannot say. Anything that doesn’t fit on the Procrustean bed of Malone’s reading of the NT is hacked off and thrust down the ‘memory hole’. John Goldingay, in his book Models for Interpretation of Scripture, writes:—
I am convinced that Malone’s approach silences the OT to a very dangerous extent. Goldingay suggests that the interpretive relationship between the two testaments should be seen as ‘dialectical’; ‘when different events are juxtaposed for the purposes of interpretation, they throw light on each other.’ Malone’s approach denies the OT the full use of its own voice. Consequently a true ‘dialogue’ cannot take place between the two testaments.…there is a danger that such Christian appropriation of stories such as the exodus, especially by means of the symbolic interpretation involved in typology, skews the inherent meaning of these stories. It turns something essentially (though not exclusively) this-worldly and material into something that belongs centrally (though not exclusively) to the religious realm.
The conviction that Christ comes as the climax to the First Testament’s story implies that this story plays a part in the interpretation of the Christ event. As the exodus is to be understood in the light of the coming of Christ, so the coming of Christ is to be understood in the light of the exodus — with the latter not merely a symbol but an event. But the typological approach to the exodus story facilitates only the first move; it interprets realities in the First Testament in the light of the Christ event but constricts the extent to which those realities can interpret the Christ event. The move is from the Second Testament to the First and not the reverse. To put the point sharply, typology is a means of castrating the First Testament.
I have found Richard Hays’ book Echoes of Scripture in the Letters of Paul very helpful in this area. Paul has frequently been understood as taking OT texts and forcing alien readings upon them (e.g. Habakkuk 2:4; Genesis 15:6). Evangelicals will often (but not always) deny that the meanings Paul gives to the texts are alien. However, most believe that we should not be thinking of the voice of the OT texts quoted in Paul as distinct from Paul’s own. Paul is merely telling us what the verses meant all the way along.
I believe that Hays gives us a far richer approach. Rather than seeing Paul’s use of the OT as imposing a meaning upon unwilling (or willing) OT texts, Paul wants us to listen carefully to the voice of the OT Scriptures as a voice distinct from his own. When Paul uses an OT text he wants us to hear that verse speaking from its own original OT context. Paul is entering into a dialogue with the OT Scripture. As we listen to the OT Scripture speaking in its own voice we will begin to understand Paul and as we listen to Paul we will begin to understand the deeper meaning of the OT Scripture.
Malone’s approach is different. Malone puts the OT under the authority of the NT in a manner that severely curtails the OT’s right to challenge our readings of its fulfillment in the NT. An argument for a ‘final dependence upon the New Testament revelation to determine how the Old Testament is fulfilled in [the New Testament]’ can easily be an argument against giving the OT Scriptures full voice in the manner that the apostle Paul did. If the NT ‘finally and authoritatively interprets Old Testament types and shadows’ then we will be discouraged from listening too closely to the OT text, something that might challenge our reading of the NT.
When one observes the manner in which the book of Romans has been interpreted in the past and compares this to the manner in which an author such as N.T. Wright reads the book one is essentially observing the result of removing the gag from the mouth of the OT. The voice of the OT in the book of Romans challenges long-cherished theories of what the book actually means.
Narrative Logic
When one is relating the OT to the NT it is helpful to remember that the Bible is a narrative. A narrative has shape and sequence. The ‘logic’ of sequence pays attention to the order in which events occur. The elements of a story are not randomly ordered. However, the ending does not follow from the beginning by a strict logical necessity. The manner in which one event follows from another is characterized by fitness (as Hays terms it) rather than strict logic. The conclusion should not be ‘predictable’, but it should be ‘acceptable’.
The shape of the narrative refers to the ‘“world” of possible and appropriate action’ established by the narrative. If we pay attention to the shape of the narrative we will recognize patterns of ‘order and value’ present within the narrative. The shape of the narrative ‘configures’ the different elements of the narrative into significant patterns, patterns which are integral to the story itself and not imposed upon it.
I believe that paying attention to Scripture as a narrative is imperative if we are to accurately interpret it. I contend that Baptists in general neglect to pay attention to the shape and sequence of the biblical narrative. The form that their NT ‘fulfillment’ takes is unfitting in the light of the OT narrative. The OT is left unresolved and so many Baptists adopt dispensational teaching, a phenomenon I have commented on elsewhere (see the longer entry on January 20th). Baptists also generally fail to give due attention to the shape of the OT narrative. Their reading of the NT defies the logic of the shape of the OT narrative. It operates in quite alien categories of thought.
My argument for infant Baptism will essentially be an argument that any denial of infant Baptism runs contrary to the logic of the sequence and the shape of the biblical narrative. Unfortunately Malone does not seem to have a firm grasp of the importance of such hermeneutical considerations.
I feel that the language of ‘good and necessary consequence’ is clumsy language to use when describing the argument for infant Baptism. The argument is far broader than a narrow analytical argument and, I might add, far more certain. What we have are two radically contrasting readings of the narrative of Scripture, not just some different conclusions that arise from an error in analytical logic.
I am convinced that our theology needs to take far more account of such narrative logic. It is interesting that Malone’s approach to hermeneutics provides us with few if any tools to really address the important questions relating to the meaning of the Scripture as a whole. The meaning of the scriptural narrative as a whole is far more than the sum of all of its parts. Malone’s hermeneutics seem to focus on the meaning of parts of Scripture and is far less able to grapple with the broader meaning of the narrative.
Baptists are quite good at seeing typology in the OT. However, they struggle to tell the story of Scripture as one continuous narrative with their view of the New Covenant as a satisfying dénouement. This is where I see much of the debate to lie. Malone seems to be blind to this.
Malone started by claiming that
The hermeneutical principles necessary to settle the question are usually agreed upon by both Baptists and paedobaptists.I contend that the hermeneutical principles that Malone presents as sufficient are indicative of the great gulf that exists between the position of paedobaptists like myself and Baptists like Malone.
I hope to start interacting with Malone’s view of the covenant in my next post.
Thursday, February 19, 2004
Critique of Dr. Fred Malone on Baptism — Part 3
I went on to claim that the New Testament Scriptures are not the ultimate foundation for the practice of infant Baptism. The New Testament Scriptures were given to churches in which the practice of the sacraments was already firmly established. Whilst the Scriptures certainly are consistent with, support and justify the practice of infant Baptism, the early Church did not baptize infants on the basis of deductions from the unity of the covenant or from particular proof-texts. The mode and subjects of Baptism in the early Church were determined by the institution of the sacraments by the apostles. Had someone in the early Church attacked the practice of, say, admitting women to the Lord’s Supper from the New Testament Scriptures they would most probably have been silenced by an appeal to the practice instituted by the apostles, rather than by particular proof-texts and theological arguments.
Within this post I intend to examine Malone’s arguments from hermeneutics and the regulative principle against infant Baptism.
The Regulative Principle
Malone defines the regulative principle as follows:—
The regulative principle teaches that the elements of New Testament worship and church order should be “regulated” by Scripture and clearly instituted for New Covenant worship. In other words, elements of Christian worship must be instituted by God and prescribed by God, either in the way of commands or clear examples.Malone argues that this principle is one of the chief reasons why we should reject the practice of infant Baptism. John Murray argues against the notion that there must be an express command or explicit instance to justify the practice of infant Baptism, maintaining that the evidence for infant Baptism ‘falls into the category of good and necessary inference’. Malone counters this:—
Murray’s dependence upon good and necessary inference as sufficient to institute infant baptism together with his declaration that it is indefensible to demand an express command or explicit instance to justify the practice, are errors in his hermeneutics. Murray fails to recognize that New Testament sacraments must be expressly commanded and explicitly instituted by Christ according to the regulative principle of worship.Malone contends that that which is ‘expressly set down in Scripture’ and things deduced from Scripture by ‘good and necessary consequence’ are ‘specifically distinguished’ from each other by the Westminster divines.
They are not the same things. The former is instituted revelation; the latter is human deduction from instituted revelation.Malone proceeds to argue for a difference between the form of deduction that is used to explain that which is expressly set down in Scripture from the ‘kind of deduction which draws an inference beyond that which is expressly set down by words.’ We must draw a distinction between inferences that may be ‘plausible’ and those that are ‘necessary’. ‘Inference, even if one concludes it good and necessary, cannot be used to invent sacraments or subjects of sacraments…’ We should beware of adding traditions of men to the Scripture, even if we believe that these traditions are deduced from Scripture. Good and necessary consequence ‘cannot be used to institute any sacrament or the subjects of sacraments.’
Malone attacks the position of Andrew Sandlin, who argues that things deduced from Scripture ‘are as binding as those taught plainly and explicitly.’ Malone argues that these good and necessary consequences may be ‘erroneous deductions’. Good and necessary consequence can only be valid when it is deduced from written revelation and not contrary to any other written revelation.
Critique of Strict Regulativism
In his book Mother Kirk, Douglas Wilson observes that ‘the hermeneutic of requiring express warrant from Scripture for all elements of a worship service is essentially a baptistic approach.’ Baptists tend to adopt a very strong proof-text approach when dealing with any issue. Their approach to understanding the Bible can often be akin to trying to understand the image on a computer screen by examining each pixel separately. The atomizing rationalism of the strict regulative principle is consequently very appealing to them.
Strict regulativism, by looking for express commandments or explicit instances for everything pertaining to true worship, cannot be consistent. Malone thrusts his narrow view of the regulative principle upon us as if to reject it were to reject the authority of Scripture itself. We may well ask where strict regulativism is ‘expressly commanded’ in Scripture, or where we have ‘explicit instances’ of its use. Could the regulative principle itself merely be a supposedly ‘good and necessary’ deduction from Scripture? Are strict regulativists binding us by extra-biblical traditions of men?
Whilst strict regulativists may bring forward a few verses to support their principle it is hard to maintain that these constitute ‘express commands’ or ‘explicit instances’ of the narrow form of the regulative principle. Nor is strict regulativism consistent with Scripture. Take the celebration of the Passover by our Lord: where did God expressly command wine or singing? Strict regulativists are not consistent with their principle, not least in admitting women to the Lord’s Supper. Where do we have an ‘express command’ or ‘explicit instance’ for that? Malone argues that it is clear from the context of 1 Corinthians 11, as Paul’s treatment of the Supper occurs after he has addressed both men and women in the Church. This may well be a valid argument. However, it is far more tenuous than most of the New Testament arguments for infant Baptism; I fail to see how this falls into the category of an ‘express command’ or ‘explicit instance’. Strict regulativists are also inconsistent when they have baptisms in worship services and when they permit musical instruments in worship. Many further examples could be given. Any person demanding a narrow application of the regulative principle will be faced with insurmountable problems.
Strict regulativists argue that every ‘element’ of our worship must be explicitly commanded by Scripture. Determining from Scripture what constitutes an ‘element’ of worship is far from easy. Malone asserts that the Baptism of infants certainly constitutes an ‘element’ of worship. However, when Scripture is silent on the subject, it is far easier to assert this than to prove it. The New Testament certainly institutes Baptism, but is it necessary that it also institutes ‘Baptism for infants’ as if this constituted a different type of Baptism? I do not see that those of us who believe that Baptism has the same import and efficacy for both infants and adults need to prove that Baptism has been explicitly instituted for both groups.
An overemphasis on discrete ‘elements’ of worship will generally blind us to the unity of worship. I have become persuaded that the standard service of worship is the covenant renewal service, which concludes with the Lord’s Supper. This service possesses a unity and every part must be understood in the light of the whole. A celebration of the Lord’s Supper, for instance, is not really very meaningful by itself. James Jordan writes:—
When we begin to atomize our worship we will tend to get lost in fruitless debates over such issues as the efficacy of the sacraments. The simple fact of the matter is that none of the elements of our worship were designed to be viewed in abstraction from all of the rest. The efficacy of the Lord’s Supper is never to be understood in abstraction from or in opposition to the Word, nor is the efficacy of the Word to be understood in isolation from or opposition to the Supper. Abstracted from the Word the Supper is emptied of meaning; abstracted from the Supper the Word is equally compromised. Baptism never saves us apart from the Word or the Supper. Nor does the Word save us apart from Baptism and the Supper. However, when joined together, the Word, the Supper, and Baptism all truly save us. The ‘elements’ of our worship have an interdependency that the narrow regulative principle tends to ignore.The instant you remove communion from the covenant renewal as a whole, you raise a question about its meaning that the Bible cannot answer. The Biblical answer to the meaning of communion is that it is the climax of the covenant renewal, the point at which the renewal is sealed by a common meal. If you don't have communion in your worship service, you have not had covenant renewal. By the same token, if you don't have the Word first, you have not had covenant renewal either, because there is no covenant to seal!
By removing communion from the sequence of covenant renewal, we introduce the question of what "extra" benefit comes from "having" communion. When a church does not "have" communion every week, people begin to ask what is the "extra" blessing of communion. Then they may begin to want to "have" that "extra" blessing every week. But this entire process of reasoning is wrong. There is no "extra" blessing in communion. The Lord's Supper is simply the sealing climax of the covenant renewal that takes place on the Day of the Lord (the Lord's Day).
Most importantly, I am less concerned with whether the regulative principle demands an ‘express command’ and ‘explicit institution’ than I am with the question of whether God does. I fear that Malone has no biblical support for such a narrow view of the regulative principle; the strict regulativists are the ones holding a human tradition above the Scripture. Where does Scripture tell us that we must have an explicit command for every ‘element’ of worship?
An Alternative to Narrow Regulativism
Rejecting Malone’s unworkable and narrow version of the regulative principle does not entail the adoption of the normative principle (that which is commanded in Scripture is required; that which is not prohibited is permitted). Throughout Malone presents his case as if there were only two options. He tries to persuade us that if we adopt the normative principle there is no real halfway house between us and the Tiber.
I am convinced that our worship must be regulated by Scripture. However, my definition of the regulative principle would be more along the following lines: Worship must be wholly consistent with and authorized by Scripture, but need not be expressly commanded or explicitly illustrated by it. Our whole worship must be regulated and guided by the whole of Scripture. Such a definition is broader and enables us to get a better perspective on worship as a whole. Authorization for our forms of worship need not take the form of explicit commandments. Many aspects of the overall thrust of the scriptural narrative never appear explicitly in individual texts.
When we are trying to determine how God would have us worship Him we need to start with the bigger picture. Rather than seeking specific proof-texts we should start with the overarching narrative of Scripture. We should identify some of the broader principles that should govern worship. When we start with the narrative we will stop arguing from generic definitions of ‘sacraments’ and will focus more upon the symbolism of Scripture as it develops through the narrative. Baptism is not instituted in some sort of symbolic or ritual vacuum. It derives its primary meaning from the relationship (similarity and difference) that it bears with OT rites and symbols. If we take sure a starting point we will escape the snare of the strict regulativist, who gets lost in the fine detail of worship and misses the larger narrative.
When understanding rites like baptism or the Eucharist we should spend far less time talking about such concepts as ‘means of grace’ and ‘sacraments in general’ and far more time talking about the scriptural symbolism of water, bread and wine. We will understand the meaning of Baptism not by referring to a generalized definition of a sacrament, but by understanding it as a rite thoroughly woven of the symbolic fibres of Scripture (see Schmemann and Leithart). We will ‘regulate’ the rites of Baptism and the Eucharist far better as we begin to appreciate their symbolic import.
Forms of Logic
Strict regulativism uses a particular form of logic to determine the correct form of worship. The form of logic it employs is ill-suited to cater with the type of book that the Bible is. The Bible is a narrative and the form of logic that we use to determine a biblical form of worship must be a form of logic that is equipped to deal with narrative. The logic of the strict regulativists is overly-analytical and is not able to do justice to the literary form that Scripture takes. Allusive and poetic texts will be butchered by the form of logic that strict regulativists employ.
Much has been written on the place of narrative in our understanding of theology in recent years. I have been particularly helped in this area by Richard Hays’ book The Faith of Jesus Christ: The Narrative Substructure of Galatians 3:1—4:11 (I have discussed his treatment of narrative logic elsewhere). A narratival understanding of Scripture will be far more open to certain forms of logic that strict regulativism cannot handle. Those who understand Scripture as a narrative will not be averse to deriving an understanding of liturgy from a study of the book of Leviticus, for example. Strict regulativism generally argues that the ceremonial law has been done away with by Christ and that, as a result, Leviticus cannot be normative for Christian worship. A narratival approach argues that the ceremonial law is fulfilled in Christ and the Church and so Leviticus must be normative for Christian worship.
Strict regulativism generally needs to argue for some form of direct correlation between elements in the Old and New Covenants in order for its rationalistic form of logic to be able to operate. A rigorous proof-text approach will generally have problems accommodating the narrative flow of Scripture. Consequently strict regulativism stumbles at the stumbling stone of the OT. R.J. Gore Jr., in his book Covenantal Worship: Rethinking the Puritan Regulative Principle, writes:—
A corollary to this failure to grasp the organic development of the Scriptures is the failure to relate properly the New Testament to the Old Testament. In too many situations, the Puritan attitude toward the Old Testament became one of disparagement. The Old Testament, for many, did not provide normative guidelines for worship, but was completely superseded by the New Testament.In contrast to such an approach, a narratival approach will happily employ forms of argument based upon analogy. Peter Leithart argues for such a ‘regulation by analogy’ in his book From Silence to Song. He maintains that this can provide
…concrete and scriptural guidance on a host of specific liturgical questions. It is not a “squishy” principle that can justify anything that might enter our heads.
Using regulation by analogy, one does not miss the liturgical forest for the trees. Leithart gives the example of adornment on the Lord’s table. Strict regulativists would point out that Scripture does not command such things on the Lord’s table and reject this idea. A person adopting ‘regulation by analogy’ would ponder the scriptural analogy between the Lord’s Supper and a wedding feast and conclude that a bare table undermines the biblical meaning of the rite. By arguing for an unadorned table strict regulativists are the ones who are undermining Scripture. Adornments are demanded by the very nature of the event. Malone’s form of the regulative principle is ill-equipped to accommodate such analogical reasoning.
Once we have permitted argument by analogy the whole OT text can become normative for New Covenant worship.
Malone’s argument is quite frustrating. Frequently in the course of his discussion of hermeneutics and the regulative principle he writes as if paedobaptists were using an OT principle to undermine a clear NT commandment, namely that we should baptize disciples only (and yes, he does suggest that we add this to the solas). He speaks of paedobaptists using the OT to ‘establish infant baptism over New Testament administration and institution.’ He argues that paedobaptists conclude that ‘good and necessary inference from the Old Testament can overrule clear New Testament instituted revelation.’ The simple fact of the matter is, Malone can only add the word ‘alone’ to ‘the baptism of disciples’ having presupposed a very narrow view of the regulative principle. By the regulative principle he is able to add to God’s Word. If his belief that every aspect of New Testament sacraments must be explicitly instituted by Christ is correct then I would happily grant that credobaptism is the most plausible position. However, he fails to prove this crucial assumption.
The fact that paedobaptists would strenuously deny that they are using OT evidence to contradict NT evidence is not sufficiently stressed. Malone writes as if his was the only way of construing the evidence and consequently spends many pages on material that is largely irrelevant to the debate. Paedobaptists are agreed that we should never allow OT principles to ‘overrule’ the teaching of the NT. It seems to me that Malone’s implicit assumption throughout is that the proper administration of NT sacraments must be understood from study of NT revelation alone. He argues that we must have a ‘final dependence upon the New Testament revelation to determine how the Old Testament is fulfilled in it.’ Nevertheless, one can generally agree with this and still have no problem with infant Baptism.
I had been hoping to finish my study of Malone’s hermeneutics within this post. Unfortunately it has already overrun its intended length. For this reason I will have to leave a more focused study of Malone’s hermeneutics to the next post.
Tuesday, February 17, 2004
Critique of Dr. Fred Malone on Baptism — Part 2
John Murray versus Fred Malone
Dr. Malone wishes to ensure that he does not misrepresent the paedobaptist argument and so he chooses John Murray as the representative of ‘the case for infant baptism’, claiming that Murray’s Christian Baptism is ‘widely regarded as a standard work by paedobaptist scholars.’ The first chapter of Malone’s book largely consists of a summary of John Murray’s argument for infant Baptism.
Men of Straw
Whilst I was encouraged by Malone’s expressed desire to avoid straw men in his treatment of paedobaptists, I was disappointed to observe a number of clear misrepresentations in his characterization of Murray’s argument.
Criticizing Murray for maintaining that John’s and Jesus’ baptisms in the gospels ‘have no connection to Christian baptism’, Malone argues that this is inconsistent with Murray’s claim for continuity between the Old and New Covenants as regards the inclusion of infants. It is unfortunate that Malone did not pay more attention to the quote of Murray’s that he is supposedly responding to:—
It is quite reasonable to believe that there was a very close relation between these two rites [John’s baptism and Christian Baptism] both in the mind of Jesus himself and in the recognition of the disciples. Indeed, so close may have been the relation that baptism in the name of the triune God was the necessary development of the earlier rite.This is certainly not the same thing as claiming that there is ‘no connection’ between the two rites; Murray is only denying that the two rites are to be identified. Christian Baptism is properly understood to be the fulfillment of all of the baptisms that preceded it, most particularly Johannine baptism. Whilst I would probably stress the relationship between John’s baptism and later Christian Baptism more strongly than Murray does, I would also want to deny that the relationship between the two is one of precise identity. Surely this is not the same thing as claiming that there is ‘no connection’.
Malone takes Murray to task for denying that purification is the central import of Christian Baptism. Murray’s claim is that the primary meaning of Baptism is seen in its signification of union with Christ. Union with Christ clearly involves cleansing from the pollution and guilt of sin, but Malone charges Murray with inconsistency when he writes: “baptism signifies and seals union with Christ and cleansing from the pollution and guilt of sin.” Following Murray’s argument I see no reason to charge him with inconsistency at this point. In my judgment it is quite uncharitable of Malone to do so.
Malone has an appendix dealing with the question of the proper mode of Baptism. However, he briefly mentioned Murray’s chapter on the mode of baptism in the following words:—
Murray’s argument concerning the mode of baptism concludes that baptizo does not mean to immerse. Rather, appealing to word studies in the Septuagint, it means to pour or to sprinkle.I would argue that such an understanding of Murray’s position on this question can only arise from a very lazy reading of his argument. Murray does not argue that baptizo means to pour or to sprinkle as the following quote from the chapter should make plain:—
…we are led to the conclusion that though the word baptizo and its cognates can be used to denote an action performed by immersion yet they may also be used to denote an action that can be performed by a variety of modes.Many further quotes could be brought forward to prove that this is Murray’s point. Anyone reading Murray’s chapter on the mode of Baptism with any degree of care would not have understood him in the way that Malone has; Malone has seriously misrepresented Murray’s position at this point.
Further on in his treatment of Murray, Malone again reveals his failure to understand Murray’s position. He summarizes Murray’s position in the following way:—
This circumcision is more than external privilege…. It is the removal of the defilement of infants with which they enter this world.In a footnote Malone writes:—
One has to wonder what Murray means by this. Does this mean that the baptized infant is no longer defiled by original sin, is no longer under the Covenant of Works, and is not condemned, as Marcel says (Marcel, Infant Baptism, 50)?I do not see that there should be any confusion surrounding Murray’s position on this question for someone who has followed his argument carefully. In the relevant passage of Christian Baptism Murray writes:—
…circumcision carries the import of the removal of defilement. It means therefore the removal of that defilement with which even infants are afflicted and with which they enter this world.Murray is dealing here with that which circumcision means, not what it does. That Murray sees these two things as firmly distinct should be clear to anyone who has carefully read the rest of his book. He writes—
The fact that Malone has overlooked this important distinction of Murray’s in this instance should serve as an indicator of his failure to properly appreciate the contours of Murray’s position.Though circumcision and baptism are the signs and seals of covenant union and communion, it does not follow that every one who bears this sign and seal is an actual partaker of the grace signified and sealed and is therefore an heir of eternal life….
…it does not follow that the administration of this rite insures for the recipient the possession of the grace signified.
In a chapter entitled No Straw Men: John Murray’s Case for Infant Baptism it is more than a little concerning to meet with so many misrepresentations (the above merely being some examples). I submit that Malone simply has not shown the requisite scholarly care in his engagement with Murray’s argument. Apparently Malone has not been able to fully understand Murray’s position on a number of key points, something that does not augur well for the rest of his case.
Differences between Paedobaptists
Malone repeatedly draws attention to the intramural debates and various differences that paedobaptists have, as if this somehow discredits their position. Concerning John Murray’s claim that Christian and Johannine Baptisms are not to be identified, Malone writes:—
This is just one example of the significant disagreement among paedobaptists on almost every point and ground of infant baptism.It must be remembered that this is coming from a Reformed Baptist who is about to use a very narrow form of the regulative principle to argue for his position. Dr. Malone certainly has many differences with people within his own camp.
Take, for instance, the relationship between John’s baptism and Christian Baptism. Malone really should be aware of the differences that exist among Baptists on this issue. G.R. Beasley-Murray in Baptism in the New Testament writes:—

Marcus Barth’s suggestion that v.5 [of Acts 19] continues Paul’s explanation to the Ephesian disciples, and is not a piece of narrative from Luke, so that Paul is made to teach that people baptized by John had in fact been baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus, is an ingenious tour de force with not a shadow of probability. It is an artificial reading of the passage; it contradicts the basic contrast between John’s baptism and Christian baptism as seen in the Gospels and Acts and as demanded by the baptismal teaching of the Epistles; and it implies that in receiving John’s baptism Jesus was baptized unto Himself!The Baptist Paul Jewett in his book Infant Baptism & the Covenant of Grace also draws back from an exact identification of Christian Baptism with Johannine Baptism. In his book The Testimony of Baptism, the Reformed Baptist Erroll Hulse speaks of John’s baptism as having ‘paved the way for Christian baptism’ by means of the baptism of Jesus — again, no identification of the two baptisms. In many more popular Reformed Baptist treatments of the subject you will find sharp distinctions made between Christian and Johannine baptisms (e.g. Eric Lane’s I want to be Baptised). Writers like John Gill and Augustus Strong may agree with Malone, but it would be disingenuous to act as if there were not many differences in Reformed Baptist circles on these questions.
There are numerous other areas of disagreement in Baptist circles, even Reformed Baptist circles. There are Reformed Baptists who believe that sprinkling is a valid, albeit not preferable mode of Baptism (the fact that such Baptists cannot subscribe to the 1689 Confession on this issue does not make them any less Reformed). I even know of a Reformed Baptist pastor who baptizes by sprinkling alone. There are Reformed Baptists who will admit those baptized as infants to the Lord’s Supper; there are those who will not. Furthermore, there are numerous different understandings of the covenant among Reformed Baptists. These issues constitute a mere sample of differences that exist among Reformed Baptists.
I presume that the major difference between Reformed Baptists and paedobaptists in this matter can be attributed to such facts as the far greater body of literature that has been produced by paedobaptists on the subject. Furthermore, the differences in forms of church government do tend to result in more internal debates in paedobaptist circles than occur in Reformed Baptist circles.
At many points Malone seems to stoop to the level of trying to score cheap points on the opposition. Those who are aware of paedobaptist and Baptist literature will be decidedly less impressed than the average reader would be. Unfortunately informed readers are not all that common; most writers can misrepresent their theological opponents with impunity. Nor does the average reader have the capacity to independently critically evaluate various positions on complicated theological questions like that of Baptism. A populist approach to theology will not be Reformed Presbyterian; it will tend to be Baptistic or Charismatic.
Part of the danger in the common Baptist assumption that each Christian should independently be convinced in his own mind becomes apparent here. There are countless millions of Christians today who have been duped by the latest wacky evangelical fad or false teaching. As Christians are encouraged to come to their own convictions on the basis of God’s Word alone, a mass market for poor theological scholarship (and open heresy) has been created. Each book claims that it presents the clear teaching of Scripture and most Christians are hoodwinked. Not every Christian possesses the discernment necessary to distinguish good from evil. A denial of the authority of Church is very dangerous; outside of the walls of the Church the winds of doctrine blow freely.
Malone’s interaction with Paedobaptist Arguments
I am generally disappointed with Malone’s interaction with paedobaptist arguments. He deals at length with the arguments of Murray and Pierre Marcel. Whilst I would find my position far closer to that of Marcel, I am not completely satisfied with either of these approaches. I would have appreciated if Malone had broadened the debate a bit more.
I have many criticisms to make of John Murray’s argument for infant Baptism and have posted a basic critique of Christian Baptism a few weeks back on this blog. My position with regard to infant Baptism is markedly distinct from that of Murray and is framed in very different categories (I hope to give a more extended treatment of my defense of paedobaptism at the end of this review of Malone’s book). Whilst Murray, Marcel and Malone differ sharply in their conclusions, they tend to operate within the same categories. As I feel uncomfortable with many of their common assumptions I feel that much of the debate passes me by without ever engaging with my concerns. I am increasingly convinced that the debate over infant Baptism needs to be reframed in our day and age and believe that the work of such authors as Peter Leithart can provide us with considerable help as we undertake this endeavour.
The Foundation of the Practice of Infant Baptism
The many differences that exist among paedobaptists regarding the meaning of infant Baptism do not trouble me as much as they might trouble others. The primary importance of the rites of Baptism and the Eucharist lies in the doing of them, rather than in the understanding of them. Baptism and the Eucharist are ‘mysteries’ and so we can never presume to understand them completely. Baptists and many Reformed paedobaptists, who tend to view the sacraments primarily as signs pointing us somewhere else will be deeply troubled when disagreement exists regarding exactly where these signs point us. However, I believe that biblically it is far more important that we do these things than that we understand them (important as understanding is, we can never fully comprehend the meaning of the sacraments). In many respects we can argue that, as we do them, we will begin to better understand them.
I believe that the meaning of infant Baptism will never be completely discovered, just as the meaning of the Eucharist will never be completely discovered. The meaning of infant Baptism will always remain so much more than our comprehension of it. Infant Baptism is part of the lex orandi and, as such, its practice is, I believe, logically prior to our understanding of the rationale for the practice. There are numerous theological justifications for the practice, but these follow after the practice, as it were, rather than preceding it.
Whilst I will defend the practice of infant Baptism with a variety of theological arguments, I do not believe that a theological argument is ultimately the basis for the practice of infant Baptism. They serve to buttress the practice on all sides and provide it with ample justification, but they do not and cannot form its full foundation. As a Protestant I find this more than a little discomforting (extra-biblical tradition), but I find it hard to escape the conclusion that the practice of infant Baptism is ultimately founded upon the practice that the apostles instituted in the churches that they founded rather than upon a direct scriptural command (again, I would stress that this by no means leaves the practice without scriptural support).
When the apostles founded a church I believe that they instituted the sacraments in a particular way that was authoritative. They instituted the rites as those who had received the rites from Christ Himself. This is where the ultimate foundations of the sacraments lie, rather than in the later teaching concerning the sacraments in the epistles or in the later gospel accounts of how the sacraments had been instituted by Christ. The manner in which the rites of Baptism and the Lord’s Supper were practiced was not founded upon particular scriptural commandments but upon the manner in which they were instituted in the churches by the apostles.
One might even go so far as to say that complete scriptural justification for some aspects of the practice of the sacraments was unnecessary. So long as the sacraments were preserved as they had been instituted, they would not contradict the Scriptures. Just as the Church recognized the authority of the New Testament Scriptures and preserved these as the apostolic teaching, so they were to preserve the practice of the sacraments as they had been instituted by the apostles. However, the practice of the sacraments did not derive in the first place from the apostolic teaching in the New Testament Scriptures.
Recognizing the fact that the New Testament was written to churches where the apostles had already established the practice of the sacraments (1 Corinthians 11:22) should hold us back from surprise when we do not find detailed instructions regarding the mode and subjects of the sacraments. We should expect any treatments of the sacraments to be largely occasional; we will not find comprehensive and definitive institutions of them.
We should not be surprised that there is no direct scriptural foundation for admitting women to the Lord’s Supper, for example (it is extremely interesting that Malone quotes Exodus 12:1-4 & 16 to support women participating in the Supper, particularly in the light of some of his later criticisms of Murray!). The churches that received the epistles and gospels already admitted women to the Supper. They did not need some scriptural argument for the practice. Scripture clearly supports the practice indirectly, but the practice was not founded upon some deduction from Scripture but upon the apostolic institution. Even if no one had been able to see a way to argue convincingly from Scripture for the practice, the practice would still be authoritative. The Church would have admitted women to the Supper without knowing precisely why it did so.
Where does this leave us with the practice of Baptism? Calvin writes:—
[The Papists] say that infant baptism has arisen not so much from a clear mandate of Scripture as from a decree of the church. Yet it would be a very poor refuge if, to defend infant baptism, we were compelled to flee to the mere authority of the church! [Institutes IV.viii.16]I would question whether infant Baptism has arisen ‘from a clear mandate of Scripture,’ but I do not hold the position of those Calvin is criticizing here. Is Baptism founded on the authority of the Church? Certainly not! Nor is it founded on some inherent authority of the apostles. It is founded upon the authority of Christ who sent them. Christ is the only final authority.
So how do the Scriptures relate to such questions as that of infant Baptism? I believe that the Scriptures are the only final authority we can appeal to in the Church. Whilst the Scriptures, as I have argued, do not provide the foundation for the practice of infant Baptism, they do give numerous supports for the practice of infant Baptism and numerous forms of arguments that can be developed against anti-paedobaptism. The Scriptures do give us many details concerning the institution of the sacraments and are the ultimate standard by which our practice of the sacraments must always be judged. However, the early Church Fathers were right to point out the importance of the fact that the apostles had instituted the practice of infant Baptism. This was where the ultimate justification for the practice lay, rather than in a command of Scripture.
We may be forced to appeal to Scripture to challenge corruptions in the area of the sacraments, as the Reformers did. We should always reform our liturgical practice in conformity with Scripture. When our practice is challenged we should provide a justification from Scripture. This is precisely what I will do for the practice of infant Baptism, with an extended treatment of covenant theology. However, I do not believe that the early Church baptized infants on the basis of such deductions from covenant theology.
I believe that this can help to explain why infant Baptism was universally practiced within the Church prior to Augustine without the existence of any sort of consensus on the rationale for the practice. The practice of infant Baptism was not founded upon some theological deduction from the continuity of the covenant or from a proof-text like 1 Corinthians 7:14. I believe that this explanation actually lends support to the paedobaptist case. The fact that the early Church was baptizing infants without being entirely sure about why she was doing so is best explained by arguing that the apostles instituted the practice in the Church in obedience to Christ but did not teach extensively on the reasons behind the practice.
By insisting upon clear biblical proof-texts for the practice of infant Baptism Baptists fail to realize that these do not serve as the foundation for the practice. The absence of such proof-texts should not trouble the paedobaptist. There is ample biblical support for the practice; the fact that it is not explicit is irrelevant.
In my next post I hope to deal with Malone’s use of the regulative principle and his hermeneutical principles. After that post I will present a critique of his form of covenant theology. Following that, I intend to deal with such miscellaneous issues as the mode of Baptism, proof-texts for infant Baptism and the testimony of tradition. In my concluding post(s) I hope to give a detailed positive argument for the practice of infant Baptism.
Saturday, February 14, 2004
Critique of Dr. Fred Malone on Baptism — Part 1
It purports to be a covenantal argument against the practice of infant Baptism — a daring claim, to say the least. Of course, it is not the first of its type. Many of us have already read or at least heard of such books as Paul K. Jewett’s Infant Baptism & the Covenant of Grace and David Kingdon’s Children of Abraham. These books claim that, if we are to be consistent in our understanding of covenant theology, we will become Reformed Baptists.
Before engaging with the body of Dr. Malone’s book, I would like to challenge a few key assumptions that are made in the introductory portions of The Baptism of Disciples Alone.
Is Baptism Really Important?
Martyn Lloyd-Jones is quoted in the Foreword of Dr. Malone’s book:
…baptism is not essential to our salvation. No sacrament is essential to salvation: if you say it is, you are aligning yourself with the Roman Catholics. Protestants have always said that while baptism and the Lord’s Supper are commands of the Lord, and we should therefore practise them, they are not essential. They do not add grace, they simply point to it and bring it to us in a special way.I presume that by ‘Protestants’ Lloyd-Jones means ‘Puritans’ (and even there one might strongly disagree with his assessment). Lutherans confess that Baptism is necessary to salvation and the last time I checked they counted as Protestants. Many Reformed Christians would also firmly reject such an emaciated doctrine of Baptism (we must also remember that Calvin subscribed to the Augsburg Confession, which taught the necessity of Baptism for salvation). Only Baptists as a group would generally be comfortable with it. In fact, one of the chief reasons why I adhere to the practice of infant Baptism is found in my conviction that I believe that Baptism does something — that Baptism actually saves us. More on this later.
Sola Scriptura and Infant Baptism
One of the charges commonly leveled against the practice of infant Baptism is that it is not clear enough in Scripture to be binding upon the conscience. This claim is raised on a number of occasions by Dr. Malone. At the beginning of his preface he writes:—
Is paedobaptism so clear in Scripture that it would be sinful not to baptize one’s babies? … Would Christian parents, who believe sola Scriptura (Scripture alone), find infant baptism so clear in Scripture that they would become convinced in their own conscience that they must have their infant baptized or else disobey God’s revealed Word? Must they rely on “expert” theologians to explain their biblical duty toward their children for what they cannot see in Scripture for themselves?At face value this may appear a very strong objection. However, on closer examination its flaws become apparent. Is an action only sinful when we are aware that it is such? Is there not such a thing as unwitting sin? Many people have held dangerous heresies, sincerely believing that the Scriptures taught them. Are these people free from sin in this matter? I know people who deny the doctrine of the Trinity and the deity of Christ and would claim biblical support for this. They also claim to be evangelicals because they think that they hold a high view of Scripture (what appalls me is that many people tolerate their errors on the basis of this excuse). I am not going to deny that it is sinful to deny these doctrines just because some people don’t see them clearly in Scripture. The same can be said about the practice of infant Baptism.
The Necessity of the Spirit for our Understanding of Scripture
We must also ascertain to whom the practice of infant Baptism doesn’t appear clearly in Scripture. Many millions of Christians throughout the history of the Church have seen the practice of infant Baptism clearly taught by Scripture. Are we simply to take Dr. Malone’s word that infant Baptism is not clearly taught by Scripture? I will readily acknowledge that it may seem far from clear to most people today, given the ideological climate that so many of us live in. Would it be just as unclear to the first century Jewish Christian who had been circumcised as an infant and had circumcised his own infant children as members of God’s covenant with Israel that was now finding its fulfillment in Christ and His Church? This throws our problem into sharp relief, namely that none of us can claim to be objective exegetes. Any claim to just be taking the ‘plain sense’ is fraught with problems. Often those who try to take the Bible at ‘face value’ are the ones who end up with the most serious errors.
How then can we arrive at a true understanding of Scripture? I am convinced that we can only properly understand Scripture as we interpret it with the illumination of the Holy Spirit. I am sure that Dr. Malone would entirely agree with this statement. However, I would argue that his understanding of what this means in practice probably differs markedly from my own. In my understanding the Holy Spirit’s leading us into all truth does not mean that I as an autonomous interpreter will understand the text rightly if only I am pious and pray a lot.
Whilst I would not deny the necessity of personal piety and prayer for biblical interpretation, I am convinced that our understanding of the illumination of the Spirit must also take account of the many gifts that God has given to His Church in order to bring it to the full knowledge of the truth as it is in Christ. How does the Spirit lead the Church into truth? By gifting apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, teachers and numerous other persons. Denying the necessity of such ministries for our personal understanding of Scripture is utterly inconsistent with any claim of the necessity of the Holy Spirit for the interpretation of Scripture. The Holy Spirit generally does not work immediately upon the human heart, but works through the various ministries within the Church that He has gifted. The authority of Scripture only begins to mean something when we start to take the ministry of the Spirit in the Church seriously. The common evangelical approach leaves the authority of the Spirit in bondage to the conscience of the individual.
Starting with an interpretation of sola Scriptura that downplays the importance of the Spirit’s work in the Church, it does not surprise me one whit that Dr. Malone goes on to attack infant Baptism. Those who want to attack the orthodox teaching or practice of the Church, whether that is the doctrine of the Trinity, the doctrine of original sin, the deity of Christ, the second coming of Christ, the real presence in the Supper or the practice of infant Baptism will frequently adduce sola Scriptura as support for their argument. We should see the dangerous doctrine of SOLO Scriptura (as Douglas Jones has termed it) for what it is — a radically anti-Christian doctrine. What those advocating it commonly want to do is to overthrow the historical teaching of the Church in favour of their novel doctrines. Many of these people do not fall far short of claiming a monopoly on the Holy Spirit.
The average Christian may not know why certain books have been excluded from the canon whilst others have been included. Nevertheless, they are called to believe the canon as it is taught by the Church. It is the duty of the Church to instruct them in the reasons. The same might be said concerning the doctrine of the Trinity. The fact that a number of the essential points of the doctrines of the Trinity or the hypostatic union may not be easy to see in Scripture (it took the Church an awful lot of thought to arrive at her understanding on these issues) does not mean that we should not discipline members of churches that deny the truth of these doctrines. The fact that the biblical basis for these doctrines is far more difficult to perceive in places than the rationale for infant Baptism should caution people against pressing Dr. Malone’s argument to its logical conclusion. Christian parents may not understand the scriptural basis for the practice of infant Baptism but it is their duty to baptize their infant children and to discover the scriptural basis; it is the duty of churches to teach them.
The Importance of Church Tradition
Against those who hold to SOLO Scriptura I am convinced that the Bible needs to be interpreted in and by the Church. Only within the new culture of the Church can the Bible be released from slavery to the philosophical perspectives of our culture. William DiPuccio has written the following concerning the hermeneutics of the early Church Fathers:—
…the early Fathers seem to have fully grasped the notion that our understanding of Christianity and the Bible is conditioned by a priori ideas and commitments which originate in the community and culture. Hence, they made no pretensions about epistemological neutrality or detached objectivity. For them the tradition of the church constituted the only legitimate sphere of Biblical interpretation.I do not believe that this is an unimportant issue in the debate regarding the validity of infant Baptism. Baptists often brush off the fact that infant Baptism was practically the universal practice of the Church for well over a millennium. Nor was infant Baptism just some isolated practice; it helped to mould the very identity of the Church. It even helped to inform the rest of their theology in places, not least in the doctrine of original sin.
Many of the Fathers of the Church argue that the practice of infant Baptism came from the apostles. Baptists reject this testimony as spurious. Quite apart from the question of whether the contemporary student of Church history is in a better position than the Church Fathers to judge if a particular practice is apostolic, there are other questions to be raised. In the period in which the New Testament canon was finally established infant Baptism was, at least to our knowledge, the universal practice of the Church. The validity of both the practice of infant Baptism and the canon of Scripture depended (among other things) upon their apostolicity. It is interesting that most Baptists would (rightly) be appalled if someone attacked the canonicity of the book of Revelation (which was not universally accepted as canonical in the early Church) whilst they do not think it any great thing to question the validity of infant Baptism, which was universal practice of the Church at the time the question of Revelation’s canonicity was settled.
Seeing that we place so much weight upon the early Church’s testimony concerning the apostolicity of the New Testament books, why don’t we take their claims for the apostolicity of infant Baptism a bit more seriously?
If we are to go against the testimony of the Church on a matter, we must do so with great trepidation and humility. Whilst I do not deny the possibility that the Church may in fact be wrong (and it has been on occasions in the past), if we are to challenge the testimony of the Church we must do so in fear and trembling. Unfortunately, quite a different spirit is manifested by all too many who reject infant Baptism. They frequently reject the testimony of the Church as if it counted for nothing.
Of course, I believe that Scripture is in support of the practice of infant Baptism and not just Church tradition. Nevertheless, it is important that the issue of Church authority is not lightly dismissed on this matter. The fact that many Baptists treat Church traditions as if they were some dispensable thing greatly concerns me. I feel that it is essential that we show more respect to our Mother than this. Baptists are not the first people to believe in the authority of Scripture. Countless millions of Christians throughout history have held to the authority of Scripture and have also believed in the validity of the practice of infant Baptism.
A bit more attention to historical theology needs to be paid by those who would reject the practice of infant Baptism. Whatever conclusions we finally arrive at, we must reach them through serious engagement with Scripture and the Christian tradition, which has sought to be scriptural. We must never overturn the authority of the Christian tradition, even if we choose to part from it on the matter of infant Baptism.
It should be recognized that Baptists’ disagreement with the general testimony of the Church regarding Baptism is not limited to the issue of the validity of infant Baptism. I always find it interesting that Baptists claim the support of someone like Tertullian when most of them deny any objective efficacy to Baptism, a position that would be anathema to Tertullian. In addition, few Baptists would be able to adopt Tertullian’s argument for the delaying of Baptism; it presupposes an efficacy that most Baptists would be totally unwilling to grant. They also often forget to mention that Tertullian goes on to suggest that Baptism should be delayed for the unwedded and widows for the same reason—
If any understand the weighty import of baptism, they will fear its reception more than its delay…Baptists want to claim Tertullian for their cause. They like his conclusion (or at least the part that relates to infants!) but would generally deny the validity of his argument. They have moved further from the early Church’s view regarding the efficacy of Baptism than all except some Reformed Presbyterians (an empty sign will be far more ‘efficacious’ for an adult than an infant). It should also be recognized that whilst Tertullian questions the wisdom of infant Baptism he nowhere denies the validity of infant Baptisms. Most Baptists are far out on a limb when it comes to the Christian tradition; their account of the import of Baptism sharply diverges from that of historic Christianity.
Conclusion
As I conclude this introductory post on Dr. Malone’s book I would like to ensure that my reader knows where I stand with regard to the authority of Scripture. I firmly believe that Scripture is our only final authority. All that I have said about the authority of the Church is not intended to threaten the authority of Scripture. Quite the opposite: it is through the authority of the Church that the authority of Scripture can be maintained. Keith Mathison writes:—
Proponents of solo scriptura have deceived themselves into thinking that they honor the unique authority of Scripture. But unfortunately, by divorcing the Spirit-inspired Word of God from the Spirit-indwelt people of God, they have made it into a plaything and the source of endless speculation. If a proponent of solo scriptura is honest, he recognizes that it is not the infallible Scripture to which he ultimately appeals. His appeal is always to his on fallible interpretation of that Scripture. With solo scriptura it cannot be any other way, and this necessary relativistic autonomy is the fatal flaw of solo scriptura that proves it to be an unChristian tradition of men.Not only does such an approach undermine the authority of Scripture, it also removes the foundation upon which we can truly interpret Scripture. Chasing the chimerical goal of objective exegesis many evangelicals fail to realize how deeply we read our own presuppositions into Scripture. The context in which we interpret the Scriptures is crucially important. Many Baptists have tended to downplay the importance of the context established by the worship, prayer and sacraments within the Church and have elevated the rootless, individual, autonomous interpreter as their highest ideal; we are supposed to read the Bible ‘objectively’ and as if it had never been read before. These factors should not be ignored when we try to understand their position with respect to paedobaptism. They help to explain an awful lot.
I do not apologize for devoting so much attention to the question of Church authority as it is all too often neglected. The authority of the Church has frequently been assailed by modern baptistic evangelicals. It is important that this is not passed by without comment. As it is the Church that must provide the context for our interpretation of Scripture it is important that this is established before we begin to grapple with the text itself. In my next post I hope to engage with the body of Dr. Malone’s argument.
Thursday, February 12, 2004
Friday, February 06, 2004
Just a little thing that bugs me...
I have some sympathy with those who would argue that immersion is to be the preferred mode of Baptism (e.g. Calvin, the Didache, the Eastern Orthodox Church), but are willing to recognize the legitimacy of other modes. However, the sheer hubris of those who reject the validity of myriads of Baptisms on the basis of somewhat tenuous etymology (i.e. that the word baptizo necessitates full physical immersion in water) appalls me.
It appalls me all the more because in many (most?) of their churches they celebrate the Eucharist with grape juice! Now, there is a far greater historical consensus regarding wine as the element with which the Eucharist must be celebrated than there is regarding the mode of Baptism (the following article, in four parts, is very helpful on this subject 1, 2, 3, 4). However, as soon as the subject is raised, many of the same people who are gung-ho 'immersion-onlyists' start to argue that the element is unimportant. Why is this?
If they are consistent with their argument on Baptism should they not admit that churches that fail to celebrate the Eucharist with wine fail to celebrate the Eucharist? I am sorry but this really does irritate me. If the mode of Baptism is so important, why not the elements of the Eucharist? Or is it just that these people are so arrogant and self-opinionated that they are more concerned with thinking themselves to be right where the rest of the Church is supposedly wrong that they are decidedly less concerned about being faithful to God's Word.
Lest it be supposed that I am attacking all Baptist churches, it must be appreciated that many Baptist churches do recognize the validity of other modes of Baptism. Some may even accept infant Baptisms, whilst denying that infants should be baptized. This is not far from Karl Barth's position. Barth writes:—
Baptism without the responsible willingness and readiness on the part of him who is baptized is true, real, and effective, but it is not correct, not performed in obedience, not performed according to proper order and therefore necessarily an obscure form of baptism.Nevertheless, there are a number who are so dogmatic on these points that anyone who disagrees with them is merely denying the plain meaning of God's Word, a meaning ignored because we are so mired in corrupt traditions of men. It is interesting to notice that many of these people have been more affected by the human tradition of 'temperance' (more properly termed 'abstinence') than almost any other groups in the Church. They allow this teaching to tinker with the requirements of a sacrament that our Lord instituted (already corrupted enough by individualism).
I have often wondered about this inconsistency. I think that it is probably best understood in the light of the fact that many of these churches do not believe that Baptism or the Eucharist actually do anything. They are designed to be looked at and contemplated more than they are to be done. Baptism by any other mode other than full immersion damages the picture of being buried and raised with Christ. Grape juice in communion does not.
I submit that Baptism is a very poor 'picture' of burial and resurrection with Christ, even when done by full immersion. The other thing that should be recognized is that, if these people are right, those who do not hold the same sacramental theory gain next to nothing from the sacraments.
The sacraments were never principally designed to be pictures to look at, but rites to be performed. Just as a marriage ceremony does not necessarily look like the 'reality' that takes place in the symbols, Baptism and the Lord's Supper are best understood when done, rather than looked at. The 'doing' certainly does not exclude 'looking', but it is far more. The reality is primarily known and experienced as we do the ritual, not as we seek to visually decipher it.
Friday, January 30, 2004
Alexander Schmemann on Infant Baptism
Individualistic Ecclesiology
Perhaps the most important challenge that Schmemann levels against common Western approaches to the question is his opposition to individualistic ecclesiology. He writes:—
Our modern theology, which in many ways has ceased to be personal, i.e. centered on the Christian experience of “person,” nevertheless—and maybe as a result of this—has become utterly individualistic. It views everything in the Church—sacraments, rites, and even the Church herself—as primarily, if not exclusively, individual “means of grace,” aimed at the individual, at his individual sanctification.This is a widespread problem. If you look at the treatments of the ‘means of grace’ in many Reformed systematics you will soon be struck by how centered they are upon the individual. The visible church is often treated as the husk in which the true church exists. The true ‘invisible’ Church is not characterized by the outward rites and symbols that characterize the ‘visible’ church. Salvation, properly speaking, truly applies to the heart of man alone, and so at best, the church is an external construct built upon the reality that exists in the hearts of individual believers.
Individualistic theology has been unable to see that salvation, to truly be salvation, must take man out of himself. A salvation that leaves man as a mere ‘individual’ is no salvation at all. Genuine salvation is found in the Church, precisely because the life of the Church allows for the transcending of individualism (see John Zizioulas, Being As Communion). Consequently, to see the Church as the mere handmaid of ‘individual salvation’ is to deny the salvation of individuals altogether. Schmemann goes on to write:—
It has lost the very categories by which to express the Church and her life as that new reality which precisely overcomes and transcends all “individualism,” transforms individuals into persons, and in which men are persons only because and inasmuch as they are united to God and, in Him, to one another and to the whole of life.
The Church as the Family’s Fulfilment
Schmemann observes that the Church is the place where the natural family finds both redemption and fulfilment. The Church is the ‘restoration of life itself as family.’ Many people have failed to be consistent with the principle that God’s grace does not destroy and undermine but heals, restores and recreates nature. Grace brings nature to its true fulfilment. If the Church is the fulfilment of a particular family then the children of that family must be offered to God in Baptism.
The new-born child belongs to the family. It has no “autonomous” existence of any kind; its life is totally shaped and determined—in the present as well as in the immediate yet truly formative, truly decisive future—by this belonging. And the family—if it is a Christian family—belongs to the Church, finds in the Church the source, the content and the transcendent goal of its existence as family. Therefore the child who belongs to the family, and in a most concrete biological sense to the mother, thereby belongs to the Church, is truly her child, already offered, already committed to God.Indeed, as Schmemann observes, the Church depends upon the family for its own fulfilment as Church as within this world the family is the only divinely authorized source of life. However, as Stanley Hauerwas has written: ‘Biology does not make parents in the church. Baptism does.’ The Church ‘reinvents the family’ by the baptismal vows in which the whole Church promises to be parent. In the Church marriage and singleness are equally valid ways of life.
Baptism makes the whole Church a parent and the baptized individual a child. Consequently, the ‘preparation’ for Baptism is an act of the entire Church and not to be limited to merely teaching the individual who is to be baptized. This is certainly a truth that is commonly overlooked.
[The Orthodox Church is] very far from the flat idea that Baptism cannot be received unless it is “understood” and “accepted,” and therefore it is to be given only to “adults.” Maybe the ultimate grace of Baptism is indeed that it makes us children, restores us in that “childhood” without which, in the words of Christ Himself, it is impossible to receive the Kingdom of God. What preparation means therefore is a total act of the Church, the recapitulation by her of all that makes baptismal regeneration possible. For the whole Church is changed, enriched and fulfilled when another child of God is integrated into her life and becomes a member of Christ’s Body.The individualism in the modern church has resulted in many circles on Baptism being treated merely as the outward testimony to the individual’s ‘spiritual journey’. The role that the rite of Baptism plays for the Church is often ignored. If Baptism changes the individual it also changes the Church. The person baptized becomes a child of the Church in that act, and the Church herself becomes the Mother. Indeed, only as she baptizes does the Church truly become the Mother of us all. Baptism makes the Church what she is, just as Baptism redefines the party baptized.
As Rich Lusk observes in a very helpful article every Baptism is, properly understood, infant baptism. He quotes Walter Krebs:—
The adult is now in the position and state of an infant. There is no impenitence, unbelief, or self-righteousness in their little hearts. It is just here where adult and infant salvation come together. The Savior expressly teaches, that unless we turn and become as little children, we can by no means enter into His kingdom of grace. No obstacles in their case being in the way, they are the regular subjects of baptismal grace, wherever there is an assurance of Christian training, in order that pearls may not be cast before swine. It is from the baptismal font that both adult and infant start out together in the same life of grace, both being from that point on babes in Christ, but looking forward to the stature of perfect manhood in Him.By baptizing particular people and refusing to baptize others the Church is herself being formed. The manner in which the Church baptizes declares the type of community that she sees herself to be. As the Church is the redeemed community, by examining the manner in which the Church baptizes we can tease out her view of true community. Baptism has the Church as it goal and fulfilment.
As I look at many churches I observe that few realize how radically both the Church and her children must be conditioned by the practice of Baptism. In many churches Baptism is treated as if it were the action of the individual baptized, rather than the action of the baptizing Church. Indeed, it is often the individual that conditions the action of Baptism and not vice versa. If the individual apostatizes the reality of the Baptism is frequently denied.
Schmemann, in a lengthy endnote, addresses the institution of sponsors. Sponsors have an important role both in adult and infant baptisms. Initially they appear to have originated more in association with the Baptism of adult converts than with the Baptism of infants. Sponsors or godparents are individuals who should be appointed, not by the family, but by the Church to be particularly responsible to ensure that the Baptism achieves fulfilment in the eternal salvation of the person baptized. As Baptism makes the Church the Mother, just as it makes the baptized individual (biologically adult or infant) a child, provision and preparation should be made for the spiritual education, protection and nourishment of the baptized individual. In this regard godparents and sponsors have an important spiritual role to play as the individuals particularly responsible for ensuring that the Church’s responsibility as Mother is fulfilled.
In a particularly challenging passage, Schmemann laments the fact that many have fallen into dangerous errors by focusing upon the ‘validity’ of the sacraments to the exclusion of the ‘fulfilment’ of them. He points out that Stalin was probably validly baptized, but his baptism was never fulfilled. He argues that the spiritual dangers of the widespread tendency to understand the sacraments ‘somewhat “magically”’ has blinded people to the fact that the Church does not separate the ‘validity’ of the sacraments from their ‘fullness’ and ‘perfection’.
…to reduce sacraments to the principle of “validity” only is to make a caricature of Christ’s teaching. For Christ came into this world not that we may perform “valid” sacraments; He gave us valid sacraments so that we may fulfill ourselves as children of light and witnesses of His Kingdom.The Church must recognize that Baptism is the ‘beginning of a process in which the whole community, but especially the pastor, is to have a decisive part.’ As the Mother, the Church bears the responsibility for the healthy growth of the baptized individual in true godliness. I believe that this is a salutary warning to many churches that have abandoned the need for pastoral care for the individuals that are baptized into the Church. Many churches baptize individuals freely and then leave these children exposed on the hillsides of the world to be torn apart by wolves.
Faith and Baptism
Schmemann argues that belief in Christ necessarily involves, not only acknowledging and receiving from Him, but giving ourselves to Him. This involves accepting ‘His faith as our faith, His love as our love, His desire as our desire.’ The first fruit of faith is its desire for death and resurrection and a ‘radical liberation from “this world”.’ Faith is no mere ‘ideology’; it is the desire for death and resurrection with Christ. ‘It is faith that desires Baptism.’
Faith, by being desire, makes the sacrament possible, for without faith it would have been “magic”—a totally extrinsic and arbitrary act destroying man’s freedom. But only God, by responding to faith, fulfills this “possibility,” makes it truly that which faith desires: dying with Christ, rising again with Him.Schmemann recognizes that his reader will be wondering about the place that he gives infant Baptism at this point. However, he shows that that the perceived problem would have ramifications for adult Baptism also.
If what we have just said about faith and desire were understood as implying that the reality and efficacy of Baptism depends on personal faith, is contingent upon the conscious desire of the individual, then the “validity” of each Baptism, be it infant or adult, should be questioned.Schmemann has a powerful response to this objection. He points out that the Orthodox Church has ‘remained alien’ to the Western debate on adult versus infant Baptism precisely because in the Orthodox Church the reduction of faith to ‘“personal faith” alone which made that debate inevitable.’ He argues that the faith that is essential to the sacrament is not our faith but Christ’s faith.
There is a difference—not only in degree but also in essence—between the faith which converts an unbeliever or a non-Christian to Christ, and the faith which constitutes the very life of the Church and of her members and which St. Paul defines as having in us Christ’s mind, i.e. His faith, His love, His desire. Both are gifts of God. But the former is a response to God’s call while the latter is the very reality of that to which the call summons.The faith by which the Church lives is Christ’s perfect faith in her. As Schmemann observes, Christ is not only the “object” of the Church’s faith, He is the “subject” of her entire life.
Once this has been appreciated we know why Baptism cannot rely for its reality upon our personal faith, however mature this faith may be. Our personal faith merely brings us to the Church where we receive the fulfilment of this faith—Christ’s faith. Baptism is the gift of Christ’s faith, the action in which we ‘put on Christ’. In Baptism ‘we receive His life as our life and thus His faith, His love and His desire as the very “content” of our life.’ The Church is the place where faith reaches its fulfilment as true participation in the life of Christ. It is the Church as Christ’s faith and life that makes Baptism what it is.
The new life which Baptism gives is only fulfilled in the Church. ‘…although [Baptism] is bestowed on a person, Baptism has the Church as its reality and fulfillment.’ Consequently, the Church will only baptize ‘those whose belonging to her is explicit and can be ascertained.’ In the case of the adult convert this is seen in personal faith and confession; in the case of the infant it is the ‘promise and confession’ of the members of the Church ‘who have the power to offer their child to God and to be responsible for his growth in the “newness of life.”’
In all of this it is always recognized that it is the Church that baptizes. The Church does not merely 'admit new-born children' to Baptism, she 'requests that they be baptized.' I believe that the significance of this fact is frequently overlooked.
Conclusion
I greatly appreciate Schmemann’s approach to this question. I feel that he highlights things that are commonly ignored. He does us all a great service by attacking the “magical” view of the sacraments. However, by refusing to replace this with a minimalistic view of Baptism, he does not allow the divine grace in Baptism to be denied. Baptism need not be “magical” to be efficacious.
The denial of Baptism to infants is often related to two particular errors. The first of these errors is the belief that Baptism doesn’t do anything. However, if the Church is the life of Christ—the salvation life that transcends individualism—then being made part of this life by Baptism is an event charged with deep significance.
The second of these errors is a view of Baptism that views it merely as a sign to the individual baptized. By drawing our attention to the parental responsibility of the Church in the spiritual care and nourishment of the individual baptized—infant or adult—Schmemann shows us that Baptism has far more than merely individual import.
Wednesday, January 28, 2004
Rev. Michael J. Pahls, The Eucharist: A Theopraxis of Resistance to McDonaldization of Culture
Methodology in Studying the Sacraments
The Meaning of the Sacraments
There is much to be said for this manner of treating the sacraments. There are a number of dangerous errors that Western theology has adopted. One of these is found in bare memorialism. Western theology often can view the sacraments merely as pointers to theological truths and realities that lie elsewhere, as mere nominal 'illustrations'. The sacraments are the divine flannel-graphs that point beyond themselves to ethereal theological facts. They are appendages to the preached Word. There are a few key implications of this belief. The first implication is that the meaning is not in the doing, but lies elsewhere. The second implication is that if the sacraments are mysteries then they cannot adequately point beyond themselves.
I am reminded of John Robbin’s statements:—
…for the food adds nothing to the message; the only purpose of the food is to remind us of the message; and one cannot even understand the eating and drinking without the message. It is this longing for ritual rather than message, for eating rather than hearing, that is the danger.The meal reminds us of the message and cannot add anything to it, for the meal is not the reality, it is just a signpost that points us to the signpost of the message that points us to the reality. The meaning lies elsewhere.
For such people as Robbins the Supper is intended primarily to confirm ideas in, and convey ideas to, our minds (needless to say, this results in a very individualistic mode of partaking). Nothing happens in the Supper. If the Supper is seen as a mystery then its whole purpose is undermined. The Supper can only be a mystery if in some way it embodies, effects or is the reality that it symbolizes. Clearly such a concept is out of the question for Robbins. The Supper, if it is to have meaning, must inform our minds. The efficacy of the Supper is wholly contingent on our understanding.
However, in celebrating the Eucharist, the Church, not a mere collection of individuals, memorializes the death of Jesus Christ. It memorializes the death of Christ by doing the action, not by thinking about or even fully understanding the action. The meaning of the action, is found in ‘doing’ the Eucharist. It is certainly important to think about and try to understand what we are doing. However, the ‘meaning’ and efficacy of what we are doing is not found here. The reality and efficacy of the Eucharist is not contingent upon our individual faith, knowledge or understanding.
None of us will ever fully understand the meaning of Baptism or the Eucharist, but in celebrating them as Jesus instructed us they will be effective and fulfill their aim. The most important thing is doing them right. As we ‘do the sacraments right,’ we will begin to understand them right. Unfortunately in many circles the doing has been eclipsed by the thinking. Having thought that the Eucharist means something particular, the mode in which it is celebrated has been reconfigured. In evangelical churches this takes the form of introspectic individualism.
Nevertheless, whether we understand why or not, it is imperative that we do the sacraments right. Only if we do so will the sacraments ‘work’. Flannel-graphs are to be looked at; sacraments are to be done. Let us never confuse the two.
Starting Points
This leads on to another point. I am convinced that part of our problem is that we start in the wrong place. We begin with an abstract and general definition of a ‘sacrament’ and then subdivide that into two particular sacraments (in Protestant tradition). As Schmemann writes in For the Life of the World:—
The medieval De Sacramentis, however, tends from its very inception to isolate the “sacrament” from its liturgical context, to find and to define in terms as precise as possible its essence, i.e., that which distinguishes it from the “non-sacrament.” Sacrament in a way begins to be opposed to liturgy. It has, of course, its ritual expression, its “signum,” which belongs to its essence, but this sign is viewed now as ontologically different from all other signs, symbols and rites of the Church. And because of this difference, the precise sacramental sign alone is considered, to the exclusion of all other “liturgy,” the proper object of theological attention. One can, for example, read and reread the elaborate treatment given in St. Thomas’ Summa to sacraments without still knowing much about their liturgical celebration.This approach to the sacraments blinds us to the particular role that the sacraments play in relation to each other. If all the sacraments merely confer some sort of generic ‘grace’, then why do we need to listen to the Word when we could simply have our shot of grace by celebrating the Eucharist?
Of course, for many evangelicals and Reformed people, the sacraments (i.e. Baptism and the Supper) are there to draw our attention to the Word. However in this respect some of the sacraments may prove to be positively unhelpful. All the ceremony of baptism and the Lord’s Supper could easily distract our attention from the Word, which they are intended to draw our attention to. Why not just have the Word by itself? In fact it takes so much instruction to disabuse people of the confused ideas that gravitate to the Supper and Baptism that we might well be better off without them!
I feel that Schmemann is on target in his critique. Western theology has led us to believe that the sacraments are only rightly practiced when we have cultivated the ability of being able to look beyond the 'form' of the sacrament to the 'reality' it harbours or points to. This constant desire to peek beneath the surface, to separate that which is ‘accidental’ from that which is ‘essential’, causes us to miss the fact that the most important things are occurring on the surface.
By seeking to understand the sacrament by studying the liturgical practice of the sacrament, I believe that Schmemann’s approach helps us to recognize that the meaning of the sacramental lies in the doing of the sacrament and challenges us to reject any approach that seeks to rob the sacraments of their mystery. The sacraments certainly bring us knowledge. However, it is a knowledge of God as we have communion with Him and not a mere knowledge about Him.
There is not some 'discontinuity' within the sacrament where the 'reality' exists, clothed in the husk of the 'symbols'. Nor are the 'symbols' bare illustrations. Both of these approaches flow from a very deficient view of the relation between 'symbol' and 'reality'. The symbol expresses, communicates, reveals and manifests the reality without losing its own integrity. The reality is known by participating in the symbols, not by trying to peel them away.
Tuesday, January 27, 2004
Temporal Presence in the Eucharist
Wright speaks of heaven in terms of God's royal presence. When we celebrate the Eucharist we are brought to heaven as we taste of God's future in the present. This is only possible because Jesus as God's personal and eschatological presence has become our past. Whenever we celebrate the Eucharist the unique past event of Jesus' death catches up with us and becomes present to us, whilst at the same time representing God's future coming into our history.At the same time, however, John Calvin in Geneva was working out a theory not too unlike some thinking in the great Churches of the East. What is really taking place is happening in the heavenly realm. We do not bring Jesus Christ down to our table; by the Spirit, we are taken up into heaven, where Jesus Christ reigns in majesty. The real miracle of the Communion, on this view, is not that anything happens to the bread [here I am thinking of some particularly pithy quotes from Richard Hooker; Wright may well be thinking of them too!], but that we are taken into the very heart of heaven, where Christ is at God's right hand.
I find this helpful, but I prefer to think of it in terms of time rather than space. As I have said already, Jesus Christ is the one who comes to us from God's future....
Alexander Schmemann speaks of Easter as a 'sacrament of time'. When we celebrate Easter we are not so much 'commemorating an event' as we are partaking in the 'fulfillment of time itself.' In an important sense 'each Sunday is the day of resurrection and each Eucharist a Pentecost.' Easter should not be seen as a 'holy' day among 'profane' days, for Easter is the fulfillment of time itself. The whole of time is transformed by Easter.
The mystery of natural time, the bondage to winter and release in spring, was fulfilled in the mystery of time as history—the bondage to Egypt and the release into the Promised Land. And the mystery of historical time was transformed into the mystery of eschatological time, of its understanding as passover—the "passage" into the ultimate joy of salvation and redemption, as movement toward the fulfillment of the Kingdom. And when Christ "our Passover" (1 Cor 5:7), performed His passage to the Father, He assumed and fulfilled all these meanings—the whole movement of time in all its dimensions; and on the "last and great day of Pentecost" He inaugurated the new time, the new "eon" of the Spirit.People who continually focus upon thinking of 'heaven' and eternal rest and abandon the 'old natural time' make life 'rush and relaxation' and do not allow for true rest in the presence of God in history, as heaven and earth are sharply separated. Schmemann argues, I believe rightly, that heaven came down to earth at Easter and Pentecost and through the Eucharist we participate in the fulfillment of time in the middle of time itself.
...on the one hand, Sunday remained one of the days ... the first of the week, fully belonging to this world. Yet on the other hand, on that day, through the eucharistic ascension, the Day of the Lord was revealed and manifested in all its glory and transforming power as the end of this world, as the beginning of the world to come.... By remaining one of the ordinary days, and yet by revealing itself through the Eucharist as the eighth and first day, it gave all days their true meaning. It made the time of this world a time of the end, and it made it also the time of the beginning.
Sunday, January 25, 2004
Pentecostal Ordination: The Newness of Christian Baptism
Friday, January 23, 2004
Thursday, January 15, 2004
A Critique of Murray’s defence of Paedobaptism
Within this post I will analyze a particular form of reasoning that is put forward to justify baptizing the infants of those who profess the faith. This is based on some notes that I have written for a college essay (which has yet to be completed). Much of my approach has been inspired by Peter Leithart's recent book, The Priesthood of the Plebs. My study will focus upon John Murray’s book Christian Baptism. By analyzing and critiquing his approach, I hope to identify the inadequacies in his defence of paedobaptism. I aim to outline certain ways in which his defence could be expressed in a more adequate manner.
One of the chief problems in addressing such a subject is found in the fact that paedobaptists and Baptists are by no means homogeneous groupings. The practice of infant baptism occurs in varied ecclesiastical contexts, which charge the rite with differing meanings. It is dangerous to seek to iron out these real differences and presume that we are all talking about the same thing. Consequently, this argument will focus on Murray’s understanding of the basis for paedobaptism.
Murray’s Defence of Paedobaptism
The Nature of the Church
At the very heart of baptism, for Murray, is union with Christ.
Baptism is an ordinance instituted by Christ and is the sign and seal of union with him. This is just saying that it is the sign and seal of membership in that body of which Christ is the Head.If baptism is the sign and seal of membership in the church it is important that we understand what the church is. The church, according to Murray, is
…circumscribed by the facts of regeneration and faith, facts which in themselves are spiritual and invisible. For this reason no man or organisation of man is able infallibly to determine who are regenerate and who are not, who are true believers and who are not.Despite this fact, we ought not to think of the church as something wholly invisible. The church is only wholly visible to God, but it is not by this token wholly invisible to men.
Union with Christ and the faith through which that union is effected, though in themselves invisible and spiritual facts, are nevertheless realities which find expression in what is observable.The visibility of the church is a necessary expression of more fundamental invisible realities. Within the very nature of the constituting principle of the church (union with Christ) ‘visible association and organisation’ are implied. The invisible aspect of the church does not exist in abstraction from the visible aspect.
The visible association and organisation of the church are effected by the ‘efficacious and continuous working of the Head of the church through his Word and Spirit, and human agency and responsibility which are exercised in pursuance of Christ’s institution bear the seal of his authorisation and command.’ The government of the visible church is administered by men. As men are fallible, individuals who ‘do not really belong to the church of Christ’ may nonetheless be admitted to the visible church. However, we should be careful to ‘distinguish between the constitutive principle in terms of which the church is defined, on the one hand, and the de facto situation arising from the way in which Christ has chosen to administer the affairs of his church in the world on the other.’ Murray cautions against trying to relieve this tension by revising our definition of the church.
The Meaning of Baptism
Baptism, as the sign of membership in the body of Christ, should never be reduced to a sign of a mere ‘external’ relationship, despite the fact that some unbelievers receive it. The fact that some receive the sign and seal of what they do not in reality possess should be explained by appreciating the ‘discrepancy’ between the secret working of God’s saving grace and the ‘divinely instituted method of administering the covenant in the world.’ Some who receive the sign may only be in an ‘external covenant relationship’, but baptism should never be reduced to merely a sign of such an ‘external’ relationship.
As a sign and seal, baptism should never be identified with that which it signifies and seals, nor does ‘bring into existence that which is signified or sealed.’ It presupposes the existence of the spiritual reality it signs and seals and, where this ‘is absent the sign or seal has no efficacy.’
The efficacy of baptism is as follows. As a sign baptism portrays the reality of the grace of union with Christ to our senses. As a seal baptism is an ‘additional certification’ given to us to assure us of the reality of God’s grace. Baptism’s import is the same in the case of both infants and adults. It is the ‘testimony to and seal upon’ the reality and security of God’s covenant grace. It serves as the pledge that God deals mercifully with those who fear Him and their children, from generation to generation.
It should always be remembered that we can take no comfort in God’s covenant promise apart from covenant faithfulness. Baptism, by presenting us with the covenant promise, spurs us to covenant faithfulness. Baptism is no pledge to us of the grace it signifies in the absence of such faithfulness.
Children in the Covenant
Murray seeks to argue for infant baptism by means of the ‘unity of the covenant of grace’. The New Testament economy is the ‘unfolding and fulfilment’ of the Abrahamic covenant. In the OT order, infants were circumcised as part of the covenant people. Circumcision, Murray argues, was not simply ‘the sign of an external relationship or of merely racial and national identity.’ The covenant ‘embraces external blessings but it does so only insofar as the internal blessing results in external manifestation.’ Murray seeks to demonstrate the ‘basic identity of meaning’ of baptism and circumcision.
The New Covenant, as the ‘unfolding’ of the Abrahamic covenant, cannot be understood to prevent infants from receiving the sign of the covenant. This would represent a narrowing of the scope of grace, rather than an extension. The NT contains no revocation of the principle by which infants are included in the covenant. As baptism and circumcision carry fundamentally the same meaning, the infants of believers should receive it.
Infants are baptized on the ground of God’s commandment that the infant seed of believers should receive the sign and seal of the covenant of grace, not on the grounds of presumptive election or regeneration. Baptized infants are to be ‘received as the children of God and treated accordingly.’ However, this is not the ground on which they are baptized.
The support for infant baptism, Murray maintains, is not limited to the absence of any abolition of the principle whereby the infant children of believers received the sign and seal of the covenant of grace. He sees the principle of ‘representation’ clearly taught within the NT in such places as 1 Corinthians 7:14 and Acts 2:38-39. The practice of household baptism also serves as an illustration of the representative principle. In Ephesians and Colossians, children are addressed as members of the church.
For Murray, these arguments provide the necessary evidence for the divine institution of the practice of infant baptism.
An Analysis of Murray’s Argument
Points of Appreciation
Murray’s understanding of baptism is firmly rooted in his understanding of the church. Furthermore, his understanding of baptism draws no distinction between the import of baptism for the adult or for the infant. This grants his position a consistency that many other arguments on this issue lack.
Murray also seeks to ground his argument in the whole Bible. His covenant theology provides the backbone for his defence of infant baptism. Rather than falling into the trap of limiting the discussion to the NT, as many Baptist arguments do, Murray places the practice of infant baptism against the backdrop of the entire history of the covenant of grace. When perceived this way, infant baptism no longer appears unnatural. It is upon the ground of the unity of the covenant of grace that Murray’s argument is at its strongest.
Murray brings forward important NT texts to prove his case and provides strong answers to the chief objections raised by anti-paedobaptists. He maintains that infant baptism should not be based on the infant’s understanding of its meaning, upon the infant’s intelligent repentance and faith, nor upon presumptive regeneration or election. By these statements Murray seeks to protect the fact that baptism rests for its meaning and security, not on man, but on God. Even when given to someone who lacks the grace signified baptism never loses its God-given meaning. For Murray, baptism derives its import wholly from God and not from man.
The importance of this previous point cannot be undermined; it represents what is probably the most important distinction between Murray’s position and that of many anti-paedobaptists. By making the import of baptism rest to some degree upon the faith, understanding, election or regeneration of the party baptized, many anti-paedobaptists undermine the priority of God’s grace. For someone with Murray’s understanding, baptism can provide a ground for faith as it presents us with God’s grace and covenant promise. It does not throw us back upon ourselves.
Criticism
Despite the fact that I hold to the validity of paedobaptism and agree with much of Murray’s defence of it, I still have a number of areas of disagreement. If paedobaptism is to make sense, it must provide a distinctive theology of the meaning of baptism. I believe that Murray’s understanding of baptism, and consequently his defence of paedobaptism, is compromised in a number of respects.
Questionable Dichotomies
In his understanding of baptism and the church Murray frequently employs distinctions and dichotomies that are at best unhelpful, and at worst positively misleading.
Murray frequently distinguishes between the ‘external’ privileges or relationship of the covenant and the ‘internal’ or ‘spiritual’ blessings and relationship of the covenant. This distinction plays a central role at many points of his argument. He seeks to argue that the blessings sealed by circumcision are no less than the spiritual blessings at the heart of the covenant. The problem with this is that the promises attached to circumcision are very ‘physical’ and ‘external’. They are the promises of a physical land and physical seed.
Murray argues from Romans 4:11 and elsewhere that circumcision was the sign and seal of justification by faith. This is certainly the case. However, the righteous status that Abraham received was not some ethereal blessing but the concrete covenant promises of a land and a seed. I believe that N.T. Wright is right to argue that a primary meaning of ‘righteousness’ for Paul was ‘covenant membership’. God declared Abraham righteous by treating him as a friend in covenant. To argue that these physical blessings were somehow ‘un-spiritual’ is to fall into the trap of reading the Bible like most Baptists.
Baptists, like many other moderns, tend to draw a sharp distinction between the inward and outward life. The inward is privileged as somehow being the realm of true ‘meaning’ and ‘reality’. However, although the relationship between a man and a woman is conducted purely in the ‘external’ realm of signs, symbols, language and the physical, it does not follow that this relationship does not reach to the very core of their being. Likewise with the very ‘physical’ and ‘external’ covenant made with Abraham.
It is impossible to draw any hard distinction between the ‘internal’ and the ‘external’. As Fergus Kerr observes:
It is established practices, customary reactions and interactions, and so on, that constitute the element in which one’s consciousness is created and sustained: my sense of myself, not to mention the content of my mind and memory, depend essentially on my being with others, my being in touch with others, of my physical and psychological kind.Our relationships are not external things grafted on to our ‘real’ being. We find our true being in communion.
Once this has been recognized, any distinction between ‘external’ and ‘internal’ covenant membership becomes untenable. Even unfaithful covenant members are really covenant members. To the degree that the visible / invisible distinction relies on this previous distinction, it too must be abandoned.
Individualism
A further problem with Murray’s argument lies in the fact that he buys into the underlying individualism of the Baptists. This compromises his argument as he is unable to demonstrate the fact that every individual is formed within a community. Throughout, justification, regeneration, sanctification and the other principal benefits of salvation are conceived of as purely private realities. Whilst they do have public implications, the realities are internal; that which is external is merely a manifestation of these ‘realities’. If baptism is God’s sign and seal of personal regeneration and justification, ‘where that reality is absent the sign and seal has no efficacy.’ However, if the regeneration and justification signed and sealed by baptism are public facts then much of Murray’s argument falls.
If baptism is the ‘solemn admission of the party baptized into the visible church’ and justification and regeneration are public facts then the whole debate is reframed. Baptism solemnly admits us to the saved community. The church is a human community that would not exist apart from its shared practices (of which baptism is one). Baptism makes us part of the community of the church, whether we prove to be faithful in it or not. Baptism ‘ex opere operato’ makes us priests and brings us into a new type of relationship with both God and the world.
Whether we are faithful or not baptism makes us new people. The baptized individual who apostatizes is not the same in the eyes of God as the impenitent and unbaptized individual. Salvation is not some sort of substance; it is a new relationship with God and a life lived as God intended. Baptism brings us into a type of relationship with God and the church that is impossible without it. Whilst individuals can ‘go to heaven when they die’ without being baptized, truly becoming part of the saved community is impossible apart from baptism.
Murray’s individualism also surfaces in his arguments against paedocommunion. His argument against child participation rests upon the assumption that commemoration is something that we must do individually. His claim that communion is ‘the recognition that he [Christ] as our resurrected and living Saviour is present with us’ is also tenuous. If Christ is truly present with us in the Lord’s Supper, why is intellectual recognition of that fact so necessary? The infant can know the loving presence of its mother without being able to intellectual appreciate the nature of their relationship: Can’t communion be known without being intellectually understood?
Family and Church
Murray’s argument, in my opinion, also fails to adequately probe the complex relationship between the family and the church. I do not believe that we can simply import the way that families functioned within the Old Covenant directly into the New Covenant. In the New Covenant marriage and the family have to be taken up into the church in a manner that they did not have to be in the Old Covenant. Marriage and the family find their consummation within the church.
Whilst I agree with Murray that the infants of believers should be baptized into the church, I believe that a more nuanced account of the family’s relationship to the church is necessary. The true Family has now come and earthly families are passing away. Foreigners, eunuchs and others formerly excluded are now being admitted to the Kingdom and being granted the full rights of sons (cf. Isaiah 56). The church is no longer to be divided into separate tribes, as we all find our fullness in the one Seed. The church radically relativizes the commitments we bear to our families (cf. Luke 14:26). For these reasons I feel that Murray goes too far in the direction of simply importing an Old Covenant principle into the New Covenant.
Neglect of Eschatology and Typology
Whilst Murray’s approach to baptism is vastly superior to the approaches taken by most Baptist theologians, he does neglect to adequately deal with the differences between baptism and circumcision. Baptism is not just a ‘sign and seal of the covenant of grace’; it is a sign and seal of the New Covenant. Whilst continuity and unity does exist, Murray fails to adequately account for the development that exists. Redemptive history is downplayed as the emphasis is upon individual experience.
Alongside this problem Murray fails to go into any considerable depth in treating the typology that underlies baptism. He draws the connection between circumcision and baptism, but any treatment of the relationship between baptism and the Red Sea crossing, creation, levitical washings, priestly ordinations, childbirth and many other such things is decidedly limited. Although such typology may have some place within his discussion of the mode of baptism, they have little place in his discussion of the meaning of baptism.
Symbol and Reality
Underlying much of Murray’s treatment of baptism is a sharp division between symbol and reality. This is closely related to the internal / external dichotomy mentioned above. However, when we recognize that our lives are lived out in the realm of language, symbols and signs we will be more cautious about separating symbol and reality. Baptism has to do with the covenant, grace and salvation. ‘Covenant’, ‘grace’ and ‘salvation’ all have to do with a relationship, not a bare state of ‘being’ apart from relationship. All human relationships must exist within the realm of language, signs and symbols (e.g. hugs, kisses, flowers, poetry, etc.) if they are to be relationships. Such symbols are the sine qua non of the relationships in which they exist. We do not have to look beyond them to find the ‘reality’ of a relationship — they are the relationship. Likewise with baptism. Baptism accomplishes the grace it symbolizes, just as the symbolism of a marriage ceremony accomplishes the marriage of a man and a woman.
Conclusion
In conclusion, I believe that Murray’s argument for paedobaptism is severely flawed. He fails to reject many of the principles that underlie the Baptist arguments against paedobaptism and leaves himself open to charges of inconsistency in a number of places, not least in his failure to advocate paedocommunion. However, although Murray’s argument is flawed, it is an improvement upon the Baptist position and can be built upon as we seek to develop a more consistent defence.
Wednesday, January 07, 2004
Introductory Study on Worship I
I had little time in which to prepare the first talk, so much of it is merely a summary of arguments James Torrance puts forward in Worship, Community, and the Triune God of Grace. Having read this book recently and found it to be a very helpful treatment of certain areas of the biblical doctrine of worship, I felt that it was helpful to take it as the basis for the first study.
Starting Points
At the very outset of a series of studies on worship it is important that we understand why worship is such an important issue. Many people answer this question by drawing our attention to the fact that God has commanded worship. However, I feel that such an answer may fail to adequately account for the great significance of worship.
Worship finds its significance in a number of areas. Man was created to be a worshipping being — to find his true life in worship. Man is at his most human in worship. At its very heart sin is a failure of worship. We see this in Romans 1. As N.T. Wright observes—

The underlying logic seems to be as follows. Those who worship the true God are, as Paul says elsewhere, renewed according to the divine image (Col. 3:10). When this worship is exchanged for the worship of other gods, the result will be that this humanness, this image-bearing quality, is correspondingly distorted.If all of this is true, worship can never be an issue of marginal concern. Worship must lie at the very heart of our salvation. Salvation involves a restoration of man as a worshipping being. Man must once again find his true being in worship.
Worship is the most important thing that we engage in. However, many people think that the concerns of worship and liturgy are merely incidental to the real issue of importance, constructing a good systematic theology. Rather than developing our theology out of our experience of worship, our worship becomes the appendix to our theology.
However, in the worship of many churches there is little sense of a dialogue between heaven and earth — worship is mundane and dull. The thing that matters most is the impartation of doctrinal truth in the sermon. Our ‘worship’ is understood as the things that we do around the sermon. These can become little more than ‘fillers’. In the course of this initial study on worship I would like to identify some of the causes of some of the problems that can afflict our churches in this area.
Our study of worship must begin with God Himself. We worship God for His own self and not as a means to some other end. The worship of God is what gives meaning to all else. The worship of God flows from the worth of God; our worship is an expression of our recognition of God’s worth.
We must worship the Triune God. God, in His essential being, is Trinitarian. The Trinity lies at the very heart of the Christian faith and the Trinity must always be central to Christian worship. It is a sign of the desperate condition of the evangelical church that, when we talk about God, people do not immediately think of the Trinity. For many people the Trinity is not the heart of the Christian life and faith; it is little more than a mere doctrine. If we are to recover true worship we must recover the centrality of the Trinity.
As Protestants, our distinctions over against Roman Catholics do not lie in our belief in the Trinity. I believe that the Trinity has gradually been sidelined in our understanding as we have focused more and more upon the beliefs that distinguish us from the other branches of the Christian church, particularly Roman Catholics. I am convinced that the confession of the Trinity, rather than the confession of justification by faith alone, lies at the very centre of the Christian faith. To the degree that we sideline the Trinity, we compromise our faith at its very core.
If in our worship we fail to start with the doctrine of the Trinity and all that it entails, we will end up starting with ourselves. Worship will become human-centred, focused upon what we do. We may have God’s help and Jesus’ example, but ultimately worship will be centred upon our actions. As we have failed to start with the Trinity in our worship we have gradually adopted a Unitarian form of worship. A Unitarian approach causes worship to focus almost exclusively on our response, our faith and our decisions. This form of worship throws us back upon ourselves.
Trinitarian Worship
A Trinitarian approach to worship views worship primarily as a gift from God, rather than as something we do or initiate.
As we have downplayed the Trinity certain other things have been downplayed. For example, if the Trinity does not play a central role within our faith the Incarnation will be little more than the means by which Christ was to get to the cross. The Person of Christ will not function as it should within our theology, becoming little more than a means to a supposedly more important end (e.g. propitiatory atonement). However, in the light of the Trinity it is an event of inexhaustible significance in itself: the Second Person of the Trinity has assumed human nature. By His obedience unto death Jesus Christ raises up humanity to renewed fellowship with God. Our doctrine of worship must start with the Incarnation and the Trinity.
At the centre of the biblical understanding of salvation lies union with Christ. Worship is the gift of participating, through the Spirit, in the incarnate Son’s communion with the Father. Every aspect of our worship must be understood as a participation in His worship. Our worship can never start with who we are in ourselves; it must start with who we are in Christ.
There are three key unions that must inform our understanding of salvation. First there is the union between the Father, the Son and the Spirit in the Trinity. Second there is the union between Christ’s divine and human natures in the Incarnation. Third there is the union that is established between Christ and those ‘in Him’ by the Spirit. As a result of the second and the third unions, we are raised up to participate in the first union.
Jesus Christ is God the Son incarnate, the One who lives in full communion with the Father and the Spirit. The relationships within the Trinity are characterized by mutual love, self-giving, testifying and glorifying. Any reader of John’s gospel will be struck by the fact that the Father and the Spirit are involved at virtually every key juncture in Christ’s ministry. The ministry of Christ can never be properly understood unless we see in it the ministry of each Person of the Trinity. In Christ we share in His relationships with the other Persons of the Trinity. John 15-17 is one of the fullest expositions of the import of this truth. We are loved with the love with which God the Father loves His Son (17:26).
If we remove our eyes from Christ we will ultimately focus upon ourselves in worship. We will seek to raise ourselves up to communion, rather than being raised by Him.
A High Priest
In the Scriptures we see that the High Priest had the task of representing the people in the presence of God and removing the obstacles that stood in the way of fellowship with God. If our worship does not start with the priesthood of Christ it will start with our own priesthood. We will seek to enter into God’s presence on the basis of our own work.
The NT teaches us that Jesus is our High Priest. He represents us before God, brings us into His presence and leads us in our worship. Man is unable to worship God as he ought, but in the Man Christ Jesus we have one who worships for us perfectly. Jesus lived, died and rose again as the perfect Worshipper so that through Him the true worshippers might come (John 4:23). Just as Christ is the true vine, the true light and the true bread from heaven, so He is the One who prepares the true worshippers. Through and in Him we are equipped to worship God in Spirit and in truth. We must participate in His perfect worship.
Many evangelicals pay great attention to the importance of God’s movement towards mankind in Christ. However, we are then thrown back upon our own faith and worship for the proper response. We are the ones who must give the appropriate worship, the appropriate faith and all these other things.
The biblical solution to this problem is found in recognizing the movement of mankind towards God in Christ. In Christ we do not merely see the movement of God towards man; we also see the perfect movement of man towards God. Salvation is all about participating in this perfect response. In passing it may be commented that this is one of the great gains of the subjective genitive reading of pistis Iesou Christou: our attention is drawn to the perfect nature of the Godward movement of man in Jesus Christ. Christ is the true Man of faith; Christ is the true worshipper. As we have lost sight of these truths we have become obsessed with our own faith and our own experience. It should not surprise us that assurance has been lost as a result.
If our worship centres upon Christ’s worship rather than our own autonomous worship we will focus upon participating in Christ’s worship rather than relying upon our own worship to please God apart from Christ. It should be noticed that what I am teaching here is nothing less than the biblical truth of justification by faith alone, a truth that we need to rediscover in our worship.
The entirety of our worship must be centred upon Christ:—
The preached Word is not merely the words of men. In the preached Word Christ Himself addresses the Church (Romans 10:14; Ephesians 2:17; Luke 10:16). By this means we are deepened in our relationship with Christ. Not only does preaching deepen our relationship with Christ, however. In the preached Word we are permitted to participate in Christ’s testifying relationship to the Father. Each of the Persons of the Trinity testifies to the other Persons. By union with Christ in our preaching we join Him in bearing testimony to the Father and Spirit.
In our singing we must remember that Christ is the One who leads us. Christ stands in the midst of the congregation singing praise to God (Romans 15:9; Hebrews 2:12). As Peter Leithart observes with regard to 2 Chronicles 7:6, King David (even though dead for two decades) is seen as worshipping through the ministration of the Levites. Leithart draws the biblical connection between David and Christ: just as the Levites’ praise was the king’s song to his Father in David’s case, so it is with Christ. As we praise God, God’s anointed Messiah is offering His praise through us.
In the sacrament of baptism a similar thing can be observed. Baptism is not about my faith; it is about Christ’s faithfulness at the cross. In baptism we are united with Christ in His death, so that we may be united with Him in His resurrection.
Again, the Lord’s Supper is not about feeding on my subjective experience; it is about feeding on Christ. In the Lord’s Supper we offer ourselves to God in Christ and receive communion with Christ in return.
In prayer we pray through Christ in the Spirit. Christ is the perfect Man of prayer (e.g. Hebrews 5:7). We become men and women of prayer in Him. Through Christ our prayers are acceptable to God as we pray in the Spirit (e.g. Colossians 3:17; Hebrews 7:25).
The Importance of the Church
The church is not to be reduced to a group of people with a common experience; the church is the royal priesthood that shares in the priesthood of Christ. If we lose sight of our participation in the worship of Christ our worship will become mundane and legalistic. However, if we understand our worship as a gracious gift by which we are permitted to participate in the life of the Trinity our worship will be empowered by liberating power.
Our view of God will generally be reflected in our view of man and vice versa. In our worship we are at our most human. Mankind was created in the image of God. Our worship must therefore be a reflection of who God is. Many evangelicals have placed the individual’s quiet time as the most important act of worship. Underlying this view is a failure to recognize that God is being as communion. The counterpart of an individualistic approach to worship is Unitarianism.
Man was never designed to find fulfilment as an individual. A merely individual salvation is not really a salvation at all. God intended man to find his true being in communion with God and others. The Church is not a mere ‘Christian club’. True worship and salvation can only normally exist within the context of the Church. Man can only become truly human again within the worshipping community. In the Bible the formation of the Church is the central purpose of God’s salvation.
It is my fear that we have gradually lost sight of the Trinity and centrality of Christ in our worship. As this has occurred the joy of our worship has been lost. Worship has been a tedious ‘work’, rather than a gift of grace. Only by recovering the centrality of the Trinity can we begin to recapture something of the glorious nature of true worship.
Tuesday, January 06, 2004
Moreover, if the res of the Eucharist is the totus Christus, and if the goal of the sacraments is to unify the church in Christ, then contemplating the meal (assuming that contemplation is what one is supposed to do with food) does not bring some other underlying thing to mind: What is sensibly apparent in the Eucharist is what is brought to mind, and this, in turn, is what is accomplished — the unity of the body.An excellent book, expect some sort of review soon.
Monday, December 29, 2003
Physical Eating in the Eucharist 3
I started this brief study by emphasizing the importance of the physical act of eating within the Lord’s Supper, something which is generally downplayed by Reformed and evangelical Christians. I implied that the significance of the act of eating within the Eucharist should be allowed to inform the whole of our theology. If our practice of the Eucharist and our theology fail to confirm each other then we are in trouble.
Bread and Wine
In the Eucharist we participate in the body and blood of Christ through eating bread and drinking wine. So much attention has been devoted to the manner in which the bread and wine are (or are not, as the case may be) the body and blood of Christ, that it is easy to lose sight of many of the facts that I have already stated. It is so easy to forget the importance of physical eating when our attention turns to ‘eating with the mouth of faith’ and other things like this. I fear that we have often failed to recognize the ‘movement’ that occurs within the celebration of the Eucharist.
The very idea of a ‘movement’ within the Eucharist seems strange to many. Many people have abstracted the elements from the context of the Eucharistic action and have consequently lost sight of much of their significance. If we are to understand the meaning of the bread and the wine, we must understand them within the context of the Eucharistic ritual as a whole. When they are taken out of this context we can easily fall into all sorts of error on the subject.
We should not immediately think of the bread and the wine as the body and blood of Christ. It is important that we take the time to recognize that, at the beginning of the ritual of the Eucharist, this is not what they represent. What do they represent at this stage? This is a sorely neglected question.
In the Eucharist we have bread and wine. As Peter Leithart has observed, bread does not occur naturally. Bread is something produced by man’s action upon creation. Bread-making requires a considerable degree of knowledge, skill and interaction between men. Bread-making presupposes a developed social and economic structure. No animal makes bread. Bread serves as a symbol of creation transformed by man and serves as a symbol of man’s place within creation. Man is the bread-maker. In the Eucharist the bread serves to represent creation and creation transformed by man.
Wine does not occur naturally either. Our Lord could have ordained some more natural drink. He could have given us water or grape juice. However, He ordained wine. Wine again serves as a symbol of creation transformed by man and of man’s place within creation. However, wine is a drink of celebration. Wine serves to identify man’s place within the creation more clearly than the bread by itself would do. The bread shows us that God has given man the task of transforming the creation. Wine is what we drink when the bread-making is complete. The wine shows us that God wishes man to enjoy the transformed creation.
The word ‘Eucharist’ comes from the Greek word for ‘gratitude’. The Reformed tradition has recognized that, in the Lord’s Supper, whilst no propitiatory sacrifice occurs, a sacrifice of thanksgiving and praise does. The bread and wine symbolize our offering. The bread and wine symbolize our offering to God of every aspect of our lives and labours, of our own selves and of the world we live in. This is the Eucharist sacrifice. In the Eucharist we fulfil man’s true purpose. Man’s ultimate purpose is to truly worship God and to offer himself and the world to God, to give all the glory to God.
The offering of the Eucharist is only possible in Christ. In the Eucharist we offer ourselves and the world to God, but we only do so in Christ, in that one offering that has taken place, once for all. It is Christ who offers and it is Christ who is offered. In the Eucharist we are led ‘into the all-embracing Eucharist of Christ’ as Schmemann expresses it. We are offered, and the whole creation is offered, to God in Christ (Colossians 1:19-22). In the Church we are part of the eucharistic life of Christ. Every week when we celebrate the Eucharist we re-embody this reality.
New Creation!
Creation is not of itself communion with God. Creation can only become fellowship with God as it is offered to Him and received back as communion. In Christ humanity and creation has been offered to God as a pleasing sacrifice. In the Eucharist we participate in this sacrifice. When Christ offered Himself to God He received resurrection life back in return. Christ laid down His life so that He might take it up again. In offering the Eucharistic sacrifice we do exactly the same thing. We offer our lives and our world to God and receive true life in communion with Him in return.
As Christ is the offering of the Eucharist, so Christ is the one who is received in the Eucharist. Having offered ourselves and our world to God in the bread and the wine, we now receive the bread and the wine to eat and drink. However, the bread and wine are no longer mere biological fuel. They have become communion. In partaking of the bread and wine we partake of the body and the blood of Christ. In partaking of the symbols of ourselves, our world and our labours we now partake of the true life of the world — Christ. Now our deepest hunger can be satisfied in the eating of physical food. If we downplay the act of physical eating we will miss the deep significance of what takes place in the Eucharist. The sacraments are more than merely a God-ordained ‘flannel-graph’, they bring about the embodiment of the new creation.
Christ by His incarnation, death and resurrection, has brought this dead world back into living sacramental communion with heaven. As we offer the bread and the wine as the symbols of ourselves, our world and our labours, our whole lives should become Eucharistic. The whole system of our world is offered to God and received back as communion. We cannot be Gnostics. We must learn to engage in our everyday labours in communion with God. In the Eucharist the whole fabric of our lives is drawn up into the new creation.
James Torrance has observed:—
Trinitarian life is all about giving and receiving. In the church we do not merely image this Trinitarian giving and receiving; in Christ we participate in it. In Christ the church enters into the Trinitarian life.The patristic phrase ‘one in being (homoousios) with the Father’, betokens here that communion with Jesus Christ is communion with God. Therefore to participate by the Spirit in the incarnate Christ’s communion with the Father, is to participate in the eternal Son’s communion — a relationship which is both internal to the Godhead and externally extended to us by grace, established between God and humanity in the incarnation. The prime purpose of the incarnation, in the love of God, is to lift us up into a life of communion, of participation in the very triune life of God.
Conclusion
This study has been brief and there are many areas I would have loved to have given more attention to. However, I might do this on some other occasion. Suffice it to say that the fact of physical eating in the Eucharistic celebration is by no means unimportant. It should also be apparent to the reader that, in most Reformed churches, the importance of physical eating has been ignored.
Theology and practice cannot be separated. Eucharistic practice, in many churches, has been moulded by a dangerous theology and the practice that results serves to further this dangerous theology. If we practice the Eucharist properly we will gradually be forced to abandon false theology. As I mentioned in my first post on this subject, practices can serve as bulwarks against ideas. Re-establishing a biblical manner of celebrating the Eucharist cannot be seen as a marginal concern in the Reformation of the church. It is of prime importance.
I fear that, by losing sight of the importance of the physical food that we eat at the Lord’s Supper, we have gradually become more and more Gnostic. The celebration of the Lord’s Supper has focused on aspects other than the eating of bread and the drinking of wine. Our lives have become increasingly secularized as we have lost sight of the sacramental principle through poor Eucharistic practice. We have lost sight of the goodness of creation and have sought to deny the fact that we are rooted in it.
Our holding back of our children from the Eucharistic feast is a powerful declaration of our denial of the scope of the new creation, a new creation that takes up the whole of our lives into it. In the Eucharist every part of man’s nature is offered up to God, not just his intellect. We want our children, by participating in the Eucharist, to learn to live Eucharistic lives. If you want to raise children who can use language, speak to them; if you want to raise children who live Eucharistic lives, bring them to the table. Teach them to offer themselves, their world and their labours to God each week.
The Eucharist, among many things, instils good habits into us. Ritual teaches us patterns of behaviour by continual repetition. Is there any pattern of behaviour that you want to instil in yourself and your children more than the Eucharistic pattern of behaviour? Only those who practice the Eucharistic pattern of behaviour can truly know life. By God’s grace may we be men and women who have such life.
Tuesday, December 23, 2003
Physical Eating in the Eucharist 2
Man, The Hungry Soul
Man is a hungry being and by eating he seeks to satisfy his hunger. Man eats in order to live and to enjoy fullness of life. We would do well not to draw too sharp a distinction between man as a physical being and man as a soul, for man is an embodied soul and man’s body is not alone in its hunger. Indeed, the hunger of the body should never be separated from the hunger of the soul.
Man is a hungry soul. At the root of all of man’s hunger lies a deeper and far more powerful hunger. This is man’s hunger for the living God. All of man’s hunger is ultimately a hunger for God, the only One who can truly satisfy the hungry person.
We are all too often inclined to separate man’s spiritual hunger from his biological hunger. Our mindset is used to place everything in its hermetically sealed category. Man has a spiritual hunger and man has a natural hunger and ne’er shall the twain meet. However, the Bible beautifully muddles these things together. Physical meals and foods are imbued with great spiritual significance. We can think, for example, of the Passover and all the food laws. Our salvation is frequently described in terms of food. We will one day sit at the King’s Table, we will share in the Wedding Feast and we will eat of the Tree of Life. One day we will never hunger or thirst again. This does not refer to a removal of man’s appetite, but to a satisfaction of man’s appetite.
In creation God gave man all the trees of the Garden as his food, except for one. Man was to enjoy communion with God as he ate of these. He was to express his commitment to God’s authority by what he ate. The fruit of the Garden given to man was, as Alexander Schmemann put it ‘divine love made food.’ The whole creation was God’s gift of blessing to man. The creation was to be the place in which man knew fellowship with God. Creation was given to man, not merely as a bare sign of communion with God, but as communion with God. Creation was created in order to be exhaustively sacramental. Within creation man was to know fellowship with the true God. The whole of creation was the means of God’s presence, blessing and revelation.
Man’s hunger and man’s eating are signs of his dependency upon the Creator and upon His blessed gift of creation. Man’s hunger is far more than merely a hunger for biological fuel. As Schmemann recognized, man is unique in the creation by being alone able to ‘bless God for the food and the life he receives from Him.’ Man is alone is knowing the ‘meaning of the thirst and hunger that constitutes his life.’ Schmemann expresses man’s primary function beautifully:—
The first, the basic definition of man is that he is the priest. He stands in the center of the world and unifies it in his act of blessing God, of both receiving the world from God and offering it to God—and by filling the world with this eucharist, he transforms his life, the one that he receives from the world, into life in God, into communion with Him. The world was created as the “matter,” the material of one all-embracing eucharist, and man was created as the priest of this cosmic sacrament.
Man’s physical eating is far from merely utilitarian. Deep down we all realize that at the heart of our meals lies far more than merely eating and drinking for the purpose of refuelling our bodies and maintaining their functions. At the meal table (as Leon Kass has observed) we hungry souls seek to meet our appetite for beauty and order, art and action, sociability and friendship, insight and friendship, insight and understanding, song and worship. Man always humanizes his eating. If man eats in the same way as the animals we believe that he is denying something essential to what we are as human beings.
Man hungers to be alive. This hunger for life is far more than merely a desire for biological continuance. Man’s physical eating is done with this end in view, that is, man eats to be alive. This may seem to be an empty truism, but when we contemplate what being alive means we cannot but be struck by the deep significance of physical eating. Fullness of life can only be known in communion with God. The life man hungers and thirsts for is life in communion with God. Man’s physical eating cannot be separated from his desire to enjoy fellowship with God. The meal table, the place where man’s dependence upon the Creator and His blessed gift of creation is expressed, cannot be secularized.
The Fall
The act of man’s Fall was an act of eating. We often express the ‘spiritual’ significance of the act in such a way as to downplay the fact that it was a physical act. However, the sin that led to the Curse upon mankind was the act of physically chewing upon and digesting forbidden food. The significance of this act is by no means lessened by drawing attention to this aspect.
In eating of the forbidden fruit man sought to fill his appetite for life by participating in something that had not been given to him by God. Man sought life outside of communion with God. The world became an end in itself and man abandoned his role as the priest of creation. No longer would creation be transformed into communion with God. Man has chosen the appearance of life in the gift, rather than the fullness of life in communion with the Giver. Seeking to satisfy his hunger for life purely by depending upon the world, man failed to receive much more than biological fuel from it. The world is dead apart from communion with God, the Source of life. Physical food was no longer sacramental, it no longer was the bearer of the gift of life in communion with God.
By the Fall man doomed himself to unsatisfied hunger. He could only have communion with a dead and cursed world and no longer communion with the Giver of life. The fallen creation was cursed by being separated from God. Man was cursed in his eating. The world became an anti-sacrament for man, a communion with death, rather than a communion with life. Man was no longer the true priest of the world; he was now enslaved to it.
Having examined certain of the effects of the Fall it should be clear that if redemption is to occur, a new creation must take place. Only in a new creation can physical eating once again become a means of communion with God. We all too easily think of the new creation merely in terms of what happens in individual human hearts. However, if I was right in my previous statement that creation was given as communion with God, full salvation can only take place within the context of a renewed creation. Redemption must raise the fallen creation back into a sacramental communion with heaven. The created order must be released from bondage, cease to be a closed system and become the means of communion with God once more. Where food was once cursed, it must now be blessed.
Saturday, December 20, 2003
Physical Eating in the Eucharist 1
Doctrine and Praxis
Many people have the mistaken impression that a person’s ‘worldview’ can be explained purely in terms of a set of doctrines that they subscribe to. People talk about a ‘Christian worldview’ in a manner that practically excludes reference to the practices of the Christian community, except insofar as they serve as ‘implications’ of a dogmatic system. At its fundamental level the Christian faith is conceived of as a rather abstract philosophical system that is only made practical in the further step of application.
In such a framework the sacraments are not essential elements of the Christian worldview; at best they serve as visible sermons. In opposition to this approach, however, it is my conviction that a ‘worldview’ is far more than a bare theory. As N.T. Wright observes
…the real shape of someone’s worldview can often be seen in the sort of actions they perform, particularly if the actions are so instinctive or habitual as to be taken for granted.No one can fully articulate their worldview. Few elements in our worldviews are consciously adopted. Few of us step back and think: I use a watch, how does this affect my perspective on reality? Or: How has my worldview been affected by the ‘copy and paste’ function? If we did this, we would be dead before we actually got around to doing anything.
When something is common or habitual, it is often difficult to step back and to recognize its significance and its effect upon the way that we ‘lean into’ life. It is easily taken for granted and becomes part of the furniture of our lives, the original reasons that gave rise to it being obscured and forgotten. We risk becoming ignorant of the effect that certain habitual actions, common technologies and objects can exert have upon our perspective of the world. Such things combine to form the ‘environment’ in which our lives are lived out.
The danger is that we can be blinded to the ideas embodied in technologies, practices and objects through familiarity. There are a number of areas in which this is dangerous. One key danger is that by failing to realize how these things affect us we can end up being unwittingly moulded by them in unhelpful directions. Another particular danger is that important practices can be subverted by beliefs that we hold that are hostile to their existence. Practices can serve as bulwarks against ideas. If we fail to recognize the degree to which practices embody certain ideas and protect us against others, we will be too ready to allow them to be replaced or compromised.
I would like to study what the practice of the Eucharist tells us about the Christian view of creation and redemption.
Eating as a Sign of the Kingdom
When you step back and think about it, the fact that the Christian sacrament of the Kingdom is bread eaten and wine drunk seems profoundly strange. Eating and drinking, arguably above all other actions, root man in creation. Were the average evangelical to think up a sacrament of the Kingdom it would probably not involve the acts of eating and drinking. Such a sign would sit uncomfortably with their conception of salvation. The actions of eating and drinking are far too ‘physical’ to be of any great ‘spiritual’ import.
I believe that one of the reasons why we struggle with the idea of a meal being the sign of the Kingdom is that we struggle to affirm a good creation. Many of us see the created world as something that is unredeemable in some way, something that we have to be saved from. Salvation is something that belongs to the heart. Salvation is all about being rescued from the evil creation and going to be with God in heaven when we die.
As they have struggled to reconcile the practice of the Lord’s Supper with their soteriology, many evangelicals have sought to shift the focus of the sacrament. There has been a tendency to place the ‘meaning’ of the Supper somewhere other than in our eating and drinking. We fail to see how a meal could be the sign of the Kingdom and the memorial of Jesus Christ. As a result the meaning of the Lord’s Supper has gradually been lost.
For some the elements have become mere icons and the eating largely superfluous. However, if the essential purpose of the Lord’s Supper is to draw a picture to help us think about the death of Jesus, then why do we need to eat the bread and the wine? Why not just look at them? The simple fact of the matter is: if the bread and the wine are supposed to be pictures of the body and blood of Christ, they are not very good ones. Far better ones could be suggested. Nor does baptism look at all like someone being buried (no matter how far Baptists might go in following this reasoning). The sacraments are not intended to be icons or pictures; they are intended to be rituals. We ‘do’ the sacraments, rather than looking at them. The Lord’s Supper is a ceremony with great meaning, like a wedding or a funeral. The meaning is in the doing.
When Jesus instituted the Lord’s Supper He gave us a simple command — ‘do this in remembrance of Me’. We should pay careful attention to this. Jesus did not say: ‘meditate on this’, ‘think about this’ or ‘preach about this’. We do all of these things, and we are right to do so. However, these should not be confused with what lies at the heart of our celebration of the Lord’s Supper. At the heart of the Lord’s Supper is an action of eating and drinking.
For most evangelicals meditation is a far more ‘spiritual’ act than eating and drinking. Consequently, many have tried to focus the celebration of the Lord’s Supper upon meditation rather than eating. The celebration of the Lord’s Supper is focused upon the period after the receiving of the elements when individuals meditate on the death of Christ with their eyes closed.
I believe that the manner in which the Lord’s Supper is celebrated in many churches today provides a window onto some of the deep errors that plague the church today. The fact that most churches practice the Lord’s Supper wrong should be seen as a theological problem of huge importance. Reforming our practice of the Lord’s Supper is one of the ways in which we can attack some of the deep-rooted errors in our views of salvation.
Thursday, December 18, 2003
Tuesday, December 09, 2003
Let us, then, reject the rationalism that is suspicious of any sacramental action that cannot be analysed in a test-tube. Let us, too, reject the dualistic romanticism that believes that the only true religion has to do with what happens ‘inwardly’ rather than with outward or physical actions. The Eucharist is more than a bare memorial of Jesus’ death. It is more than simply a ‘visible word’ (unless one is prepared to balance this by speaking of preaching as an ‘audible sacrament’!). It is one of the moments in the life of God’s people when all the lines of truth, faith, hope, love and service converge. At the Lord’s table we become for a few moments what we truly are. We are in touch with reality, and are that much less likely to be deceived by man-made substitutes. Faced with a greedy and drunken world, we are called to celebrate in bread and wine the God who displaces any mere corn-king or Bacchus.
Thursday, November 13, 2003
In this understanding the Supper takes place in the mind of the person who receives it. As a result communion is negated. The only communion that can take place takes place in the mind. Perhaps you might cast a few charitable thoughts in the direction of the person sitting next to you, but this does not constitute communion. The form of 'communion' that is produced by such theology is radically individualistic, rationalistic and subjective.
It also means that theory is made to proceed reality. Only the person with the right theory can experience the reality. Anyone who fails to understand the finely honed meaning of the Lord's Supper will miss the feast. All the other denominations that do not hold to this particular doctrine of the Lord's Supper taste little of the reality, no matter how much faith they may have.
A further result of this approach is that the Lord's Supper ceases to be a mystery — a true sacrament. If your experience of the Lord's Supper rests upon your comprehension of it, you will never experience anything beyond your comprehension. Our ideas of Christ fall far short of the reality so, consequently, the whole Christ cannot be received in the Supper.
Many evangelical churches have a long prelude to the Supper in which they clearly articulate what the Supper does and does not mean, particularly emphasizing the manner in which Christ is absent. This is necessary given their doctrine of the Supper. You will only experience the Supper to the degree that you comprehend it.
A further result of this approach is the denial of the legitimacy of child participation. The argument is that the Supper is only efficacious by faith. What is meant by this is that the Supper is made efficacious by comprehension, which is wrongly identified with faith. The orthodox (with a small 'o') position is that faith is the necessary organ of reception, but adds nothing to the inherent efficacy of the sacrament.
As I have been preaching occasionally at my church on the subject of the Lord's Supper I have been wondering whether this is an issue that I should have tackled at the outset. The danger is that people will understand my sermons to be arguing that we must process all of this additional information if we are to truly experience the Supper.
It is my belief that our experience of the Supper precedes our understanding of the Supper. Our understanding of the Supper is always incomplete as it is a mystery, a sacrament offering Christ to us. Faith is the organ by which we receive the sacrament. Faith, in its mature form, should be characterized by knowledge and wisdom. This is why it is important that we preach on the meaning of the sacrament. A mature faith can gain more strength from the sacrament as it is equipped to receive it to a deeper level. Nevertheless, even the most naïve believer truly gains strength from the Supper.
Sunday, November 02, 2003
Preparing to Keep the Feast
Introduction
I want you to imagine that you have just received a very important looking letter through your door. On it there is an official seal and in beautiful type it declares that it has come from Buckingham Palace itself. You gingerly open it up and, lo and behold, inside there is an invitation to attend a state banquet. The Queen has personally requested the pleasure of your attendance. I am sure that you would check the address on the envelope more than once! Is this really addressed to me? Yes, it is!
You begin to prepare for the great occasion. You buy a new suit or dress. You want to ensure that you are at your very best for the banquet. You spend time practicing bowing or curtseying. You do not want to get it wrong on the day.
Finally the day arrives. You are all aquiver with nervous excitement. Before the day is through you will have eaten with the Queen! After what seems like an age you finally leave for the banquet. You are wearing your best clothes. You have showered four times, just to be sure. You have spent half an hour cleaning your teeth to make sure that they are as white as possible. You have made sure that there is not a single hair out of place.
You are ushered into a spacious dining hall where all the guests are seated at a huge table. You take your seat and wait for the meal to begin.
After you have begun your first course you notice one of the curtains moving strangely. The murmur of conversation gradually dies as the guests all look at the man who has climbed through the window. His clothes are dirty and his hair is disheveled. He is unshaven and those nearest to him are soon overcome by his unpleasing smell.
In the stunned silence the man strolls unceremoniously across the room to the very head of the table where the Queen herself sits. The waiters start to move towards him menacingly. The man waves to the Queen and shouts out, ‘Hey! How’s it going?’
You can all imagine what would happen with that man. He would be thrust out of the banquet.
This evening we have been invited to the King’s Banquet. I hope to draw our attention to how we must approach it. It is a great concern to me that many evangelicals have also shown a terrible neglect of the table of the Lord. People approach the table any old how. Brethren, the Lord Supper is not a TV meal. Our Host expects us to behave in an appropriate way.
We all know the Parable of the Wedding Feast. I am sure that you all know what happened to the man who does not have the wedding garment on. The king finds him out and expels him from the feast. We are called to prepare ourselves. We must approach the meal in an orderly manner. If we are not adequately prepared for the meal we will have no share in it.
What do we need to be sure that we will be received?
The Order of Sacrifices
I would like to begin by drawing your attention to some patterns in the worship of Leviticus that can teach us in the church today. In Leviticus we see that the Israelites were given very detailed instructions about how to approach God. They were told who was allowed to approach God, when they were allowed to approach God and exactly how they were to approach God.
There is little narrative in the book of Leviticus—it is not that type of book. One of the small historical accounts that we actually do encounter in the book concerns two sons of Aaron named Nadab and Abihu. They approach God in a way that He had not commanded. As a result they were consumed by fire from God. The New Testament also describes the God that we worship as a consuming fire—we cannot just waltz into His presence. For this reason we need to know the correct way to approach him. The pattern is clear—Confession, Consecration, Communion.
Confession
Firstly, Confession. There is one huge barrier between man and God. Whilst this barrier exists, God and man can never fellowship. This barrier is the barrier of sin. In the Old Covenant sacrificial system this barrier had to be crossed before man could ever access God’s presence.
In our theology we have often fallen into the trap of thinking of sin as a merely demanding a price to be paid, as if all that we had broken was an impersonal law. If anyone is inclined to think about it this way, I would direct you to re-examine your Bible. The law that man has broken is not an abstract moral law, but the Law of man’s Creator. It is not just a law that has been broken, it is a relationship.
The Bible teaches us that there is only one way to restore such a relationship and this is by sacrifice. A substitute must be offered. This pattern exists in Leviticus. The pattern that existed in the Old Covenant is fulfilled in the Church of Christ. Before the worshipper could approach God his sin had to be dealt with. For this reason sin and trespass offerings had to occur for the sin to be covered.
How is this fulfilled by us in our worship? If our worship is to be acceptable to God, it must be preceded by confession of sins and request for forgiveness. We cannot approach God as if there is no sin barrier. During the past week we have disobeyed God in many ways. Our sins have separated us from God. The purpose of our service on the Lord’s Day (the first day of a new week) is to renew our fellowship with God.
There are a number of stages to this. It is crucial that we begin at the right place. We must start with an offering for sin or else we are unfit to approach God. It is the blood of the sin offering that provides the way back into God’s presence for the worshipper that has been separated from Him.
When we approach God on the Lord’s Day we must begin by cleansing ourselves in the blood of the Lamb. The Bible teaches us that we have been given a forgiven status and have been cleansed. We must be washed if we are to come to the feast. Our washed status has been sealed to us by baptism. The early church used to represent this in their liturgy by clothing people who had just been baptized in white robes.
However, following baptism we all sin regularly. The Bible speaks of those who have defiled their garments (Revelation 3:4). How then do we get our garments white? The Bible gives us the answer in Revelation 7:14—by washing them in the blood of the Lamb.
In Hebrews 10:19-22 we see this pattern again. In Hebrews 9:13-14 we see the cleansing rituals of the Old and New Covenants compared. It is the blood of Christ that purges our conscience. Hebrews 10 brings this out more. How do we have confidence to approach God and be sure that He will receive us? By the blood of Jesus. The blood of Jesus Christ God’s Son cleanses us from all sin (1 John 1:7). If we confess our sins, God is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9). We have assurance from God, we have our hearts sprinkled by the blood of Christ and our bodies washed with the water of baptism.
Each Lord’s Day we reapply the blood of Christ to ourselves. We call upon God once again to forgive us and to accept us. If we approach God as if sin were not an issue, He will eventually cast us out of His presence. If we habitually defile our garments and do not seek renewed cleansing we have no hope of sharing true communion at the King’s Feast.
Many people have the idea that we just have confession of sins and things like that in the prayer out of tradition. No. We pray for the forgiveness of sins because we know that only those with clean garments are welcome at the feast. Forgiveness requires a sacrifice to renew fellowship. We renew our fellowship with God by the reapplication of the blood of Christ.
Consecration
We now move on to Consecration. Following the sin and trespass offerings, there were other offerings. These offerings logically followed after the offerings that directly addressed the barrier of sin. Now that the barrier of sin has been removed we wish to be drawn up into fellowship with God.
In Leviticus 1 we see the burnt offering or whole burnt offering. This offering would probably be better called the ascension offering (this is the more literal meaning). This offering was skinned, cut into separate pieces and was then completely burned. No part of this sacrifice was eaten by either the worshipper or by the priests. It was offered entirely to God.
What is the meaning of this sacrifice? There has been debate on this subject amongst Old Testament scholars. Some see it symbolic of complete destruction. Others argue that it is a sign of complete consecration. Others try and join these two together by claiming that the substitute is completely destroyed so that worshipper might be completely consecrated (e.g. Poythress).
I think that the emphasis is upon the ascension of the sacrifice into God’s presence. The dead sacrifice is transfigured and brought into a fellowship of life with God. This is seen in the emphasis on the sweet smell of the sacrifice to God. The sacrifice represents the worshipper. The worshipper consecrates himself to God and is brought up to enjoy fellowship with Him.
Leviticus also teaches us that this sacrifice served as an atoning sacrifice. The Bible does not teach us that the burnt offering was the atonement for a particular form of sins. Rather it teaches us that the burnt offering made the worshipper acceptable to God (Leviticus 1:4). For these reasons I believe that the burnt offering points to the reality of consecration. We must be consecrated if we are to enter into fellowship with God. This evening I want to focus upon this aspect in particular.
Communion
Following the Confession and the Consecration, we reach the final stage—Communion. After the barrier of sin had been removed and the worshipper had been consecrated to God, fellowship could be enjoyed. This was seen in the peace offering (I am leaving the tribute offerings for the time being). God shared a meal with the worshipper. Fellowship was seen in the context of shared food.
In Leviticus 7:11-21 we see that the regulations for the eating of the peace offering are very precise. God does not want people taking the blessing of fellowship with Him lightly. Someone who abused the peace offering could be cut off from the people altogether. This might have been by execution or by excommunication. Either way, abuse of the peace offering was not to be taken lightly.
The Lord’s Supper is our peace offering. It is the sign that fellowship has been restored between man and God by the sin offering of Jesus Christ. It is the sign that man has ascended into fellowship with God in Jesus Christ. We should not take it lightly. God would not recognize the offering if people departed from His instructions.
I want to give us all a challenge in this respect. How seriously do we take God’s instructions? Do we think that we can modify them at will? Do we despise the table of the Lord by celebrating the Lord’s Supper in a way contrary to that which Scripture has prescribed?
The Bible makes it quite clear that the Lord’s Supper is to be a communal meal. We all too often celebrate it individualistically. The Bible makes it quite clear that the Lord’s Supper is a time to rejoice. We all too often treat it as a fast.
The Bible makes it quite clear that the Lord’s Supper is to be celebrated with wine. There are well over a hundred Biblical reasons for celebrating the Lord’s Supper with alcoholic wine. Only in a church culture that would deny the good gifts of God would wine be ruled out. Alcoholic wine was universally used for the first 1800 years of the church’s existence without dispute, on the basis of Christ’s clear command. Are we willing to make the Word of God of no effect by our new traditions? The Bible makes it quite clear that this is what we are to do. If we willfully ignore this, what do you think God thinks of us? I know that this is a hard word, but we deal with a precise God, we should not play fast and loose with His commandments. There was no vegetarian option at the Passover. Likewise, there should be no non-alcoholic option at the Lord’s Supper. This is not our Supper, it is the Lord’s Supper. We have no right to tinker with the menu.
Unpacking the Meaning of the Burnt Offering
When does the meal occur?
We have observed that the peace offering logically follows after the burnt offering. The meal occurs after the consecration of the worshipper to God. It is important that we observe this order. If we are not consecrated to God we cannot expect to enjoy fellowship with Him. If the Old Testament worshipper was not consecrated to God he would be severely punished if he partook of the peace offering. We must follow the same pattern. Consecration precedes communion.
The Meaning of the Burnt Offering
I would like to explore the meaning of the burnt offering a bit further at this stage. We see that the burnt offering was cut into separate parts and completely burnt. I believe that this has its New Testament fulfillment in the consecration of the believer to God. In Romans 6:13 we read: ‘And do not present your members as instruments of unrighteousness to sin, but present yourselves to God as being alive from the dead, and your members as instruments of righteousness to God.’
Each Christian knows that he has no spiritual life of himself. Man in his fallen state, in the flesh, is a slave to sin and is, in fact, dead in sin. What is the Christian’s response to this? Do we resign ourselves to the inevitable and presume that we must continue sinning? Certainly not! The Christian’s response is to see Himself as a dismembered body, presented to God. The dismembered body is brought to spiritual life by the power of God. The Christian becomes a burnt offering and the Christian is brought back from the dead in renewed fellowship with God. We continually sacrifice the dismembered corpse of our life in the flesh so that we would know the power of new life in the Spirit.
To offer a burnt offering it needed to be without blemish. We have just such an offering in our Lord Jesus Christ. It is because of His sacrificial work that our bodies can be acceptable to God. We are to reckon ourselves dead indeed to sin, but alive to God in Christ Jesus our Lord. It is the life of Jesus Christ that knits our dismembered bodies back together. Paul writes: ‘I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.’
If we are to approach the Lord’s Supper this evening we must be sure that we have died first. What does this all mean?
The Christian as one who has died
What is the identifying feature of the Christian in the New Testament? Many answers could be given. However, I think that there is one characteristic that particularly stands out. The Christian marked out by the symbol of death—the cross of Jesus Christ. The Christian identifies himself with this symbol in everyway imaginable. The Bible does not merely teach us that Christ died for us. Arguably, the Bible teaches more about us dying with Christ.
In the Bible the theme of our living out the death of Christ is very prominent. In Luke 9:23 we are told to deny ourselves and to take up our crosses daily and follow Jesus as those who have been condemned to death. In Romans 8 we read that we are like lambs for the slaughter and that we must suffer with Christ if we are to be glorified with Him. In Hebrews 13:12-13 we are called to follow Jesus to the place of shame and rejection outside of the gate. In Romans 6 we see that we are baptized into His death. In 1 Corinthians we see that we proclaim the death of Christ when we celebrate the Lord’s Supper. The cross of Calvary is a reality lived out daily in the life of every Christian. It is the motivating principle. The death of Christ is an event that has shaped the destiny of all who follow.
The cross is a terrible symbol to be marked out by. It is the mark of someone rejected by society. It is the mark of a condemned criminal. It is the mark of the detestable nature of the one who hangs on it. It is the mark of pain, suffering and agony. It is the mark of the people of God.
Paul knew this reality himself. He lived it out daily. ‘I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus’—Galatians 6:17. The ‘sufferings of Christ abounded in Him’—2 Corinthians 1:5. He was ‘always delivered to death for Jesus’ sake’—2 Corinthians 4:11. He always ‘carried about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus’—2 Corinthians 4:10. In 1 Corinthians 4 Paul described himself as like a ‘man condemned to death’.
The Christian participates in the suffering of Christ so that he might share in Christ’s glory. We must follow in His footsteps. Only if we are put to death can we be made alive again. Jesus said, ‘He who loves his life will lose it, and he who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. If anyone serves Me, let him follow Me; and where I am, there My servant will be also. If anyone serves Me, him My Father will honour’ (John 12:25-26).
If we are to come into God’s presence we must lay down our lives. We must present ourselves as a sacrifice to God. Peter, in his first epistle teaches us that Jesus was ‘put to death in the flesh but made alive by the Spirit (1 Peter 3:18).’ If you want to know new life this evening in fellowship with God, you must be prepared to lay your life down. It takes courage to lay down your life. It takes faith. We must trust that God will raise it up again.
The Bible teaches us that if we live in the flesh we cannot please God. We need new life if we are to please Him. ‘For if you live according to the flesh you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live (Romans 8:13).’ If we are to receive life from God this evening we must be prepared to lay down our lives first. We must come as those with no rights or privileges, as those despised and rejected, as outcasts and exiles and as those willing to suffer loss and persecution. Romans 12:1 teaches us that this is our reasonable service.
Are you willing to surrender control over your life? If you are unwilling, how can you expect to receive life from God?
How does this operate in the church?
How is this worked out in the church? We present our bodies as sacrifices to God. Our bodies are prepared for the sacrifice by being dismembered. The sword of the Word divides us into pieces. We lay down our old lives in sacrifice to God. We present our members to Him. They will now be wielded by His life, not ours. Only as we are offered up to God can we receive new life from Him.
We offer ourselves up to God in hope, in hope that we will receive new life in Christ. We offer ourselves in hope that our flesh will be knit back together and we will leave God’s presence as new people, animated by a life that is not natural to our flesh—the life of Christ.
On the Lord’s Day, when we celebrate the Lord’s Supper we lay down our lives so that we might be admitted to a new realm of life, to a life that cannot be destroyed by death, because this life has itself destroyed death.
Before we receive this life, however, we are like dismembered bodies. We proclaim that naturally we have no life to unify our bodies in one. Our members are naturally at war. Only as they are presented as sacrifices to God can they be brought into union in one body. The man without the life of Christ can never feel whole. He will always be torn apart. Only the life of Christ can bring the pieces of our lives back together. This can only happen as we offer our lives up to God.
This evening, we lay the broken pieces of our lives at Christ’s feet. We don’t know how to put them back together again. We are no better than dismembered bodies. Only God can put us back together.
This is not just an individual thing. Far from it. In fact the emphasis should be upon the corporate aspect. Attending the church we have many individuals. Naturally, by sin we are separated from God and consequently separated from each other. The barriers between human beings exist wholly as a consequence of the barrier of sin between man and his Creator. Only as the church presents itself to God can we be brought together as one body.
In Romans 12:1 we read: ‘I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service.’ Our bodies (plural) are to be offered to God as a sacrifice (singular). Only as our bodies are sacrificed to God can union be experienced, barriers broken down and peace enjoyed.
The Feast Itself
To put all of this more particularly, the point of all that I am saying is that we prepare for the feast by laying down our lives. We lay down our lives so that we can enjoy union with God and we lay down our lives so that we can enjoy union with each other.
Fellowship can only be enjoyed as a result of sacrifice. We must be prepared to offer ourselves to God so that in Christ we might be brought back together. We cannot withhold any part of our lives. We can only offer ourselves in Christ who is the perfect burnt offering. He gave His life to God so that He might receive life from God. This is what we must do as we come to the Lord’s Supper.
In the Lord’s Supper man is given new life. We all partake of the one bread and, thereby we become one body. Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 10:17—“For we, being many, are one bread and one body; for we all partake of that one bread.” In the Lord’s Supper we are knit into union with each other. We become one body again. We are knit back into union with ourselves as individuals also. This can only occur as we become members of Christ’s body.
In the Lord’s Supper we are, in a real sense, reconstituted as one body in Christ. We grossly neglect this by our focus upon the Supper as ‘me and Jesus’. This is to miss most of the meaning of the Supper.
After eating the bread and being reconstituted as one body, we share in the cup and are reconstituted in a common life. The life is in the blood as Leviticus teaches us. As Christ offers us His blood He offers us fellowship in His life so that we would be able to join with Paul in saying that it is no longer we who live, but Christ who lives in us (Galatians 2:20).
The Lord’s Supper is the peculiar act in which the church is reconstituted as the body of Christ. The church is not a human institution. The church is permeated by the life of the God-man. Christ lives in the church by His Spirit. The church as the body of Christ is not natural. The life the church experiences is not natural. We are dead and our life is hid with Christ in God. The church’s true life is the life of Christ. The Lord’s Supper is an anticipation of the life to come in the new heavens and the new earth. Only as we die to this age can we become partakers of the age to come.
People who think that the church is merely an institution to help us in our personal religion utterly neglect the biblical teaching. Personal religion is only lived out in the bosom of the church as the body of Christ. It is in the body of Christ that we receive the life of Christ. Those who would separate themselves from the body separate themselves from life. This is why we do not neglect our meeting together. This is why the Lord’s Supper is so important. It is the expression of our new life.
Conclusion
In conclusion I have three brief applications to make.
Firstly, are we prepared to lay down our lives so that we might gain new life in Christ? This is the way we must prepare for the feast. We can only receive the new life that is offered by faith. This faith is not an abstract belief in propositions. No, this faith is modeled after the faith of Christ Himself. It is the faith that lays down its own life in order to receive new life from God. Are we willing to live lives marked out by death—death to old privileges and rights, death to this world and death to sin? If we are not, how do we expect to receive new life from God?
Secondly, when we partake, are we recognizing the body? If you celebrate this Supper in an individualistic manner you are denying what the Supper is about. We all offer ourselves to God so that we might receive new life together. We are one sacrifice not many. The new life we receive is a new life that is shared. The new body we become is one body, not many. Pay attention to the person sitting next to you.
Thirdly and finally, the new life we are offered in the Lord’s Supper is the life of the Spirit. This is the life by which we can live more and more as dead people. The Christian’s calling is to live on the resurrection side of Calvary, to partake in the new life of the Spirit, and not live in the old death of the flesh. It is only by the Spirit that we can put to death the deeds of the flesh. The Christian is to live as one who has come out of the tomb with Jesus Christ. He is no longer under the old master of the flesh. Our life in the flesh is to be dominated by the life of the Spirit of Christ. This is what we are offered in the Lord’s Supper—a share in the life that can destroy death.
This is how we prepare for the Lord’s feast. This is how we ensure that we will be blessed and accepted. This is how we honour His table and do not despise it.
‘And if Christ is in you, the body is dead because of sin, but the Spirit is life because of righteousness. But if the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, He who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through His Spirit who dwells in you.’—Romans 8:10-11
‘Then Jesus said to them, “Most assuredly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For My flesh is food indeed, and My blood is drink indeed. He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood abides in Me, and I in him. As the living Father sent Me, and I live because of the Father, so he who feeds on Me will live because of Me. This is the bread which came down from heaven—not as your fathers ate the manna, and are dead. He who eats this bread will live forever.”’—John 6:53-58
Monday, October 27, 2003
Did Calvin teach Seasonal Communion?
Acts 2:42-46
I will take three or four of the Calvin passages that Lee quotes or alludes to and study whether Calvin has been misrepresented. The first passage is the following:—
However, Calvin writes on Acts 2:42:—Dr. John Calvin’s Commentary on Acts clearly comes down against such a sacramentalistic and frequentative misinterpretation of Acts 2:42-46. Explains Calvin: “Some think that ‘breaking of bread’ [at Acts 2:42-46] means the Lord’s Supper; others that it refers to alms; others again that the faithful had their meals together....
Some think that ‘koinoonia’ [here] is the celebration of the Holy Supper.... Some think that in this passage ‘the breaking of bread’ means the Holy Supper.... This seems to me far removed from Luke’s meaning. He indicates to us [by the words ‘breaking bread at home’ (in Acts 2:46)] that they used to eat together [cf. I Cor. 11:20abc & 11:22ab] — and to do so frugally [cf. I Cor. 11:21abc & 11:22cdef].”
As touching prayer and doctrine the sense is plain. Communication or fellowship, and breaking of bread, may be taken diversely. Some think that breaking of bread doth signify the Lord’s Supper; other some do think that it signifieth alms; other some that the faithful did banquet together among themselves. Some do think that koinōnia, doth signify the celebrating of the Holy Supper; but I do rather agree to those others who think that the same is meant by the breaking of bread. For koinōnia, unless it have somewhat added unto it, is never found in this sense; therefore, I do rather refer it unto mutual society and fellowship, unto alms, and unto other duties of brotherly fellowship. And my reason why I would rather have breaking of bread to be understood of the Lord’s Supper in this place is this, because Luke doth reckon up those things wherein the public estate of the Church is contained. Yea, he expresseth in this place four marks whereby the true and natural face of the Church may be judged.Lee’s reading of Calvin is probably taken from Acts 2:46, where Calvin writes concerning ‘the breaking of bread’:—
For whereas some do think that in this place, by breaking of bread is meant the Holy Supper, it seemeth to me that Luke meant no such thing. He signifieth, therefore, unto us, that they used to eat together, and that thriftily.Rev. Grover Gunn, who Lee is criticizing, also distinguishes between two meanings for the ‘breaking of bread’ in Acts 2:42-46. Lee’s quotation from Calvin fails to alert the reader to the fact that between the sentence starting: “Some think that ‘koinoonia’…” and the sentence starting: “Some think that in this passage ‘the breaking of bread’…” there are over three verses worth of commentary. Lee doesn’t even start a new paragraph! Lee’s argument rests heavily on the connection between these two statements. However, as the first quote I gave from Calvin illustrates, Calvin actually agreed with those who claimed that the ‘breaking of bread’ in Acts 2:42 referred to the Lord’s Supper (see also Institutes IV.xvii.43).
Acts 20:7
Lee goes on to imply that Calvin’s interpretation of Acts 20:7 supports the practice of seasonal communion. Anyone who reads Calvin’s comments on this passage will immediately see that they cannot support this position. Calvin does not argue that there was a particular season on which they chose to celebrate Supper (as Lee seems to imply). Calvin questions whether the Supper was celebrated on the Sabbath or on the following day and suggests that the time of the Supper was chosen so that it might be ‘commodious for them all’. Calvin believes that the day chosen was a solemn and important one. He does not use this passage to argue for weekly communion in his Acts commentary. However, it impossible to argue on the basis of Calvin’s statements that he would oppose the practice of the Lord’s Supper on other occasions. Calvin’s comments may not argue against a seasonal communion position, but they certainly cannot be claimed to support it.
1 Corinthians 11:20f.
Lee writes:—
I think that Lee is seeing things that aren’t actually in the text. Paul is not arguing that the Supper should take place less frequently. Lee goes on:—We have seen that the Trojan Church celebrated the Lord’s Supper at Acts 20:7-11 — between Acts 20:6’s “days of Unleavened Bread” at Easter, and Acts 20:16’s “day of Pentecost” fifty days thereafter. Compare Acts 1:3—2:1, and Acts 12:3-4. We also find precisely the same in I Cor. 11:20f — between I Cor. 5:6-8’s Easter Passover, and I Cor. 16:8’s Pentecost (fifty days later).
There, Paul rebukes the careless Corinthian Christians for their abuse of the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper. He reprimands them for commingling it with the ‘love feast’…
Notice that Calvin is not arguing that the Supper is celebrated too frequently. His argument is against the mixing of the love feasts and the Lord’s Supper. Personally I would not agree with Calvin that celebrating love feasts and the Lord’s Supper alongside each other is wrong per se. Ideally, I believe that we would regularly (if not exclusively) celebrate the Lord’s Supper as the climax of a corporate meal. I believe that this was the practice of the early church and that it has biblical warrant.In his comments on I Cor. 11:20-22 and 11:33, Calvin observes: “Paul now turns to condemn the abuse which had crept into the Corinthians’ observance of the Lord’s Supper — viz., that they were mixing up ordinary banquets with the Feast that is Holy and Spiritual.... Paul condemns the inclusion of common things which have no relation to the Lord’s Supper.” Now “the ‘love-feasts’” were indeed “very ancient.... The origin...lay in the sacrificial rites common to both Jews and Gentiles.”
However, the Lord’s Supper is different. “Paul does not want this Spiritual Feast to be mixed up with ordinary feasts in any way.... How thoroughly dissatisfied the Apostle was with this custom of theirs, of feasting — even if there had never been that abuse which has just been mentioned.... It seems quite acceptable for the whole Church to eat the Lord’s Supper at one Common Table.
Yet, on the other hand, it is definitely wrong to turn the gathering for worship into other practices that are quite foreign to its nature.... Each person has a home of his own which is intended for him to eat in and drink in. It is therefore improper to do these things, in the gathering for worship.... In the Lord’s Supper..., each person may not celebrate his supper on his own.... This Sacrament should not be mixed up with ordinary feasts.”
Besides all of these comments, let me quote from Calvin’s Institutes IV.xvii.44:—
…it became the unvarying rule that no meeting of the church should take place without the Word, prayers, partaking of the Supper, and almsgiving. That this was the established order among the Corinthians also, we can safely infer from Paul [cf. 1 Cor. 11:20].It is very clear where Calvin stands.
A development in Calvin’s thought?
Lee argues that Calvin’s thought developed on the question of the frequency of communion. Whilst developments in the thought of John Calvin’s Eucharistic thought might have failed to receive the attention that they deserve, Lee’s argument that Calvin changed his position on the frequency of the Lord’s Supper is totally untenable. Lee writes:—
From 1540 onward, Calvin’s mature views tend toward even more care and greater infrequency in manducating at Holy Communion. Thus, in a March 1540 letter to his friend Rev. Dr. Guillaume Farel, Calvin wrote: “On Easter-day..., I gave out the intimation that we were to celebrate the Supper on next Lord’s day [Acts 20:6-11 & I Cor. 5:6-8 & 11:20-32].... I announced at the same time that no one would be admitted to the Table of the Lord by me, who had not beforehand presented himself for examination.”It is clear to anyone who has read Calvin carefully that he was dissatisfied with the infrequency with which many of the churches celebrated the Lord’s Supper. It is impossible to argue from the practice of the churches in which Calvin ministered to his personal theology regarding the frequency of the Supper. Lee writes again:—
…in his 1541 Ecclesiastical Ordinances, one finds him declaring: “The Supper was instituted by our Lord for our frequent use.... We have decided and ordered that it should be administered four times a year [Gen. 1:14; 8:20-22; Ex. 23:14-17; 34:22-26; Lev. 23:14-37; Dt. 16:16] — namely at Christmas [in the Winter]; Easter [in Spring]; Whitsun [or Pentecost, in the Summer]; and on the first Sunday of September in Autumn [or the Fall].”Calvin is not here arguing for seasonal communion as a rule, but as a concession, as can be seen from passages in his earlier writings, for example, this from his articles concerning the organization of the Church and the worship in Geneva in 1537:—
It would be well to require that the Communion of the Holy Supper of Jesus Christ be held every Sunday at least as a rule…. In fact, it was not instituted by Jesus for making a commemoration two or three times a year, but for a frequent exercise of our faith and charity, of which the congregation of Christians should make use as often as they be assembled, as we find written in Acts ch. 2, that the disciples of our Lord continued in the breaking of bread, which is the ordinance of the Supper. Such also was the practice of the ancient Church, until the abomination of the mass was introduced… But because the frailty of the people is still so great, there is danger that this sacred and so excellent mystery be misunderstood if it be celebrated so often. In view of this, it seemed good to us, while hoping that the people who are still so infirm will be the more strengthened, that use be made of this sacred Supper once a month in one of three places where now preaching takes place…Calvin’s demand for monthly communion was refused by the Council of Ministers, in favour of continuing the quarterly practice. In 1541, Calvin reasserts his demand for more regular communion. Lee is working from the version of the document that resulted from its passage through the Councils. However, the original draft reads:—
I think that this amounts to more than four celebrations of the Lord’s Supper per year. Even if it did not, it must still be recognized that Calvin was not able to implement all of the reforms he might have wished to implement. Furthermore, even if he had been, it would not necessarily have been expedient. Lee continues:—Since the Supper was instituted for us by our Lord to be frequently used, and also was so observed in the ancient Church until the devil turned everything upside down, erecting the mass in its place, it is a fault in need of correction, to celebrate it so seldom.
Hence it will be proper that it be always administered in the city once a month, in such a way that every three months it takes place in each parish. Besides, it should take place three times a year generally, that is to say at Easter, Pentecost and Christmas, in such a way that it be not repeated in the parish in the month when it should take place by turn.
Within this very letter Calvin makes clear that he has not changed any of the practices as they first existed in Geneva:—…in 1555, Calvin wrote to the Ministers of Berne. It is true that Calvin there then goes on to advocate “a more frequent use” of Holy Communion. But once again, he did this in over-reaction to the Romish practice at that time — when her adherents usually partook of her idolatrous Mass “but once or twice a year.”
Yet even then in 1555, Calvin’s consistent conclusion is again clear: “We celebrate the Lord’s Supper four times a year.” This once again very clearly underscores the principle of quarterly or ‘Seasonal Communion’ — as indeed first presupposed at: Gen. 1:14; 4:3-4; 8:20-22; Ex. 23:14-17; Dt. 16:16; Lk. 2:41; John 5:1; 10:22f (cf. I Macc. 4:52f); Acts 14:15-18; 15:18-21; 18:21; 20:6-16; I Cor. 5:6-8; 11:20-33; 16:8; etc.
Respecting ceremonies, because they are things indifferent, the churches have a certain latitude of diversity. And when one has well weighed the matter, it may be sometimes considered useful not to have too rigid a uniformity respecting them, in order to show that faith and christianity do not consist in that. Nevertheless those who have informed you that, from curiosity or other motives, I have introduced a new mode, have not made a correct statement. My brother Master William Farel is present here, who can moreover bear witness, that before my arrival at Geneva, the manner of celebrating the Lord’s supper, baptism, marriage, and the festivals, was such as it is at present, without my having changed any thing. So that it is impossible on these points to attribute to me any thing that has originated with me.Calvin goes on to write:—
In one thing we differ, but the difference is not an innovation. We celebrate the Lord’s supper four times a year, and you thrice. Now would to God, messeigneurs, that both you and we had a more frequent use of it. For we see in the Acts of the Apostles by Saint Luke that in the primitive church they communicated much oftener. And that custom continued in the ancient church during a long space of time, till the abomination of the mass was devised by Satan, and was the cause why people communicated but once or twice a year. Wherefore we must confess that it is a defect in us not to follow the example of the Apostles.I would be interested to know where Lee thinks that Calvin might have got his ideas concerning frequent communion in Acts from, if not from Acts 2:42-46 or Acts 20:7. Calvin is clearly dissatisfied with the existing practice at Geneva and elsewhere and wishes for reformation of the practice. However, he was limited by a number of different factors.
In conclusion, I would argue that Lee has badly misrepresented Calvin. He has failed to distinguish between what Calvin thought expedient for the church in the initial stage after the Reformation and what Calvin thought the church should aim for. He has failed to recognize that Calvin faced strong opposition to more frequent celebrations of the Eucharist in Geneva. He has failed to read many passages in their entirety and has given us quotations wrenched from explicating contexts. He has also failed to take into account clear statements such as this, from the 1559 edition of Calvin’s Insitutes:—
Now, to get rid of this great pile of ceremonies, the Supper could have been administered most becomingly if it were set before the church very often, and at least once a week (IV.xvii.43).May we strive to follow Calvin’s counsel.
Wednesday, October 22, 2003
Thursday, October 09, 2003
How do we partake?
I am thoroughly enjoying reading William DiPuccio’s book, The Interior Sense of Scripture, dealing with the hermeneutics of John Williamson Nevin. I am reading it very gradually, alongside quite a number of other books. This has given me some time to chew over its observations as they relate to some of the other material I have been reading and subjects I have been thinking about.
Nevin’s view of the Lord’s Supper is one of the great antidotes to the rationalism that has infected so many people’s understanding of the sacrament. In Nevin’s theology the theanthropic life of Christ is made present in the sacraments. He strongly opposed sacramental ‘occasionalism’ which maintains that the bestowal of the grace and the sign are merely ‘synchronized’ as the two realities involved are unable to truly interact.
To protect the Reformed doctrine, Nevin drew attention to the Incarnation. In the Incarnation we see human and divine natures joined together in one common life—the theanthropic life of Christ. For Nevin ‘life’ was commensurate with ‘personality’. Nevin does not collapse the human and divine natures of Christ together into one, but emphasizes the organic union of the two. The unity of Christ’s person does not result in a confusion of His natures. However, Christ’s theanthropic life is mediated to us through participation in His humanity. Christ’s glorified humanity is “the door through which our humanity passes into union with His divinity.” Charles Hodge denied that we became participators of Christ’s human body, nature or life (he also denied that the Reformed church had ever held this).
In the sacraments something analogous to the Incarnation takes place. The grace of God comes to us in a sacramental union with the elements. The integrity of the common elements is not destroyed, but the elements are sanctified. Whilst we distinguish between the sign and the thing signified, we do not separate them.
In the memorialist understanding, the signs point only to the subjective memory of Christ’s work (the ‘nominal essence’, which is hopefully connected to the ‘real essence’—the grace revealed historically in Christ), rather than forming a true sacramental union between the sign and the thing signified and bringing us into contact with the ‘real essence’ of Christ Himself. The purpose of the sacrament is merely to evoke a deeper devotion and affection towards Christ. The primary reference of the sacrament is the participating individual’s idea of the objective historical work of Christ. Any benefit that may be received from the sacrament depends wholly upon the state of mind of the recipient. Any efficacy that the sacrament may possess is thereby made to rely upon the rationality of the recipient. The rationalism of the sacrament soon falls into mere subjectivism.
Nevin opposed this for a number of reasons, not least because he saw that it was built upon a Nestorian severing of Christ’s natures. Whilst Hodge and others emphasized the separation between ‘humanity and divinity, body and soul, matter and life, form and substance’, Nevin maintained the reality of organic union. The dualism inherent in the theology and philosophy of such as Hodge is revealed in such separations as ‘visible’ and ‘invisible’ church. Nevin contended that if the sacrament was merely subjective the church would never be more than a human society as a true organic union between that which is natural and that which is spiritual and gracious has been ruled out as impossible. The best that can be hoped for is a mere external union. The union that Nevin maintained is no mere external synchronization (occasionalism), but is a genuine (internal) union. Grace and nature are married in the sacrament and grace is thereby mediated through the natural elements.
Those who agree with Nevin’s position may well wonder how we should participate in the Supper in the light of this. DiPuccio goes on to describe the content of an article “Christian Life Deeper than Conscious Experience” written by one of Nevin’s colleagues (and a former student), Thomas G. Apple.
Contemporary American pietism (that is, revivalism), according to Apple, shifts the ground of certainty from the idea of objective faith as held by the Reformers (that is, connecting the testimony of the Spirit to the word and sacrament), to feeling and subjective experience. Much of this problem stems from Locke’s philosophy which holds that all knowledge comes only by experience. It denies the distinction between essential nature or life on the one hand, and experience on the other. By teaching that the soul is a tabula rasa, Locke set aside the idea of an objective human nature which lies at the foundation of personal life. Hence, the only reality is individual experience.This paragraph is pregnant with important applications. Apart from its import for the issue of assurance, it also can explain the way in which the Lord’s Supper has ceased to be ‘communion’. DiPuccio continues,
Apple uses the examples of infant baptism and the Incarnation to illustrate his point. In both cases God works in the depths of the soul, apart from the consciousness of the infant.If this is true, then we must ultimately reject the organic unity of the race as well as the Christian belief that a nature deeper than the individual is fallen. Having done this, we are also forced to repudiate the objective constitution of Christianity itself along with the objective side of the Christian life (that is, the redemption of human nature rather than merely the individual)….
In contrast to this, [Apple] proposes an intuitive psychology which elevates being above human intelligence and experience. The subconscious life is considered the significant, maybe even predominant, portion of our overall life. Since God-consciousness is an intuition of the real presence of the infinite in the human soul (an idea derived from Schleiermacher), the mystery of the new birth penetrates deeper than conscious experience. In this respect it is analogous to natural birth. “Nature is deeper than knowledge. From nature proceeds conscious knowledge and conscious acts.” The fall corrupted the whole of human nature out of which comes evil thoughts and deeds. Hence regeneration, if it is to be redemptive, must be as deep as the effects of the fall.
So, our relationship to the spiritual world holds, for the most part, in the subconscious or unconscious sphere of our life. As Apple tells us, “there are springs of life that are nourished down in the inner depths of the spirit, of which we have no conscious knowledge except in the effect or results in experience.” When we feed upon the body and blood of Christ in the sacrament, the grace conferred is not necessarily connected with a sensation or feeling. One should not mistake spiritual nourishment for religious excitement
[As an aside, the example of the Incarnation is interesting in this respect. N.T. Wright has contended that Christ did not know that He was God in a detached, objective way, but that He knew His identity by means of personal vocation. This has troubled many as they believe that this undermines the reality of the Incarnation. I have become increasingly convinced, however, of the general truth of Wright’s position as the only way to adequately defend the Incarnation. Christ’s knowledge of who He was should not be conceived of as coterminous with His nature. Christ’s objective being formed the foundation of His human experience. Christ was not a blank slate.]
Many have tried to define faith purely in terms of assent to theological propositions. Such men as John Robbins contend that no unbeliever could give genuine assent to the Westminster Confession. Nevin and Apple stand opposed to any such position. What is needed is a “direct contact on the part of the spirit with the realities themselves with which religion is concerned.” Our primary focus should not be upon the subjective apprehension of the realities of the Christian faith, but upon the realities themselves. Faith is not to be defined purely in terms of rational or experiential categories. True faith will always express itself in thought and experience, but its root is far deeper and is not limited to these realms.Again, the analogy to nature is relevant. Before the child comes to know “the name or meaning of parent,” Apple tells us, “the loving beams of a mother’s eyes, the sunshine of her countenance, the tender tones of her voice, have power to evoke a life of love.” Can it be, he asks, any less with our Heavenly Father?
Apple concludes by suggesting that the “certitude of the believer” according to Reformed theology, “is not exactly a certitude of knowledge, but of faith.” As with justification by faith, the “matter of certitude” is not the subjective state of the believer, but the “objective fact” of his or her salvation wrought by Jesus Christ. The Christian life, therefore, is not dependent on our conscious experience.
At the 2003 Auburn Avenue Pastors’ Conference Dr. Joseph Pipa attacked the idea that the sacraments could be efficacious apart from faith (from the context of the claim he clearly meant 'conscious faith'). His position falls under Nevin’s critique. The benefits of partaking in the Lord’s Supper are not rooted in the conscious realm of the human soul. To claim that that they are is ultimately to undermine the Incarnation itself.
When we partake in the Lord’s Supper our whole being is brought into contact with the realities. The ‘organ’ by which we participate is faith. The realities are by no means dependent upon faith. However, without faith they will profit us nothing. Without faith we are like men without mouths at a banquet. However, we can participate in the realities without consciousness of faith. The realities run deeper than the realm of consciousness. As the Christian life is not limited to the conscious realm, the consciousness that we have of our participation in the realities should not be confused with our actual participation in the realities.
Thursday, September 25, 2003
Why Sacraments are not Signs by Peter Leithart
Tuesday, September 23, 2003
My thoughts, as anyone who reads my postings will soon find out, have been very much influenced by such authors and speakers as Peter Leithart (Blessed are the Hungry numerous Biblical Horizons articles, some conference talks and articles for the WTJ), James Jordan (numerous talks and Biblical Horizons articles), N.T. Wright (The Meal Jesus Gave Us and other works that touch on the subject), Tim Gallant (paedocommunion site and a conference talk — I am waiting for a copy of his book I have ordered), Keith Mathison (Given For You), John Williamson Nevin (The Mystical Presence) and Joachim Jeremias (The Eucharistic Words of Jesus). I am also beginning to read I. Howard Marshall and Geoffrey Wainwright on the same subject. I have to acknowledge the debt I owe to each of these authors, Leithart, Jordan, Wright and Nevin, in particular have exerted a formative influence upon my position. Needless to say, I owe a great debt to John Calvin on this subject also.
As I am preaching in the Baptist church that I am a member of, some of the conclusions I would like to make cannot be drawn. I would like to draw out a few of them in these posts. I am hoping to examine the multifaceted nature of the Lord’s Supper to the best of my (limited) ability and demonstrate that it is one of the two or three most important things that the church can ever do. Peter Leithart’s book is perhaps my favourite treatment of the subject. However, his approach is more suggestive than anything else; he does not explore any one aspect to a great depth. I hope to give more attention to the implications of particular aspects of the Supper than he is able to do. Whilst only a little of the content of what I say is original to myself, I hope that I might bring together in a more systematic form things that might otherwise have remained separate.
At present I envisage that this series will run to at least ten or more sermons, each identifying and applying particular aspects of the Supper. One of the reasons that I am posting these is so that I can receive criticism, positive or otherwise, that might help me in the development of my own thinking. I doubt if I will say anything groundbreaking, but hopefully this exercise will serve to sort some things out in my own head! I would appreciate any feedback people can give.
Do This As My Memorial
Where does the Bible teach about the meaning of the Lord’s Supper? Most of us would instinctively answer, ‘In the Gospels, Acts or in 1 Corinthians.’ Tonight I hope to challenge this perspective. There is a particular way of looking at Scripture that only sees a doctrine when it is explicitly stated. Coming to such a subject as the Lord’s Supper, this would severely narrow our data. Only the Synoptic Gospels, Acts and 1 Corinthians deal with the subject on the surface of the text. Other passages, such as John 6, have been seen to have bearing on the subject in some circles historically, but are very much disputed.In my study of the Lord’s Supper I hope to draw your attention to the meaning of the Lord’s Supper when understood against the background of the Old Testament. Without a knowledge of the Old Testament any attempt to understand the Lord’s Supper will be like trying to understand a puzzle by examining only a small collection of pieces. Only if we place the New Testament data within the pattern of the Old Testament will the meaning begin to strike us.
Much of medieval and modern thought on the subject of the Lord’s Supper has been akin to seeking to interpret a symphony by looking at each note individually. The Supper has been carved into tiny pieces and the theologians puzzle about how to put all these discrete elements into any form of meaningful whole. However, the meal is a signifying act, like a marriage. Just as the ring is not to be meditated upon, the elements are not to be meditated upon. Of course this does not mean that they are not deeply significant (like the ring). Many people, if they were asked to give the reasons why we celebrate the Supper, would be unable to provide much of a coherent reason beyond: ‘Because Jesus told us to.’ I do not intend to dissect the Lord’s Supper like some doctrinal corpse. I would like, rather, to present you with some perspectives on how we should view the action in its ‘fullness’.
Why study this subject in the first place? We must not approach this issue out of some glorified curiosity. We must approach God’s Word humbly and penitently, seeking His light and endeavouring to transform our worship as we learn more about that which pleases Him. It is my conviction that our practice has been impoverished by a narrow and blinkered understanding of the meaning of the Lord’s Supper. We have been asking the wrong questions and we have received the wrong answers. One of the questions that we have focused on to the exclusion of far more important questions is: What does the Lord’s Supper mean for me. I trust that you will receive a full answer to this question during the course of these studies. However, you will find that, important though this aspect is, it is but a small part of a far larger whole. It is my hope that as we study this subject, it might provide a stimulus for us to re-examine the way we celebrate the Lord’s Supper, both corporately and individually.
In the course of these studies we will deal with a host of different aspects of the Lord’s Supper. God-willing, we will deal with the Lord’s Supper as a sign of participation and as a sign of separation, as a sign of justification and as a sign of sanctification, as a place of blessing and as a place of judgment, as a place of giving and as a place of receiving, as a place of remembrace and as a place of anticipation, as a place of adoption and as a place of election, as the king’s table and as the bridegroom’s table, as a place of life and as a place of death, as a place of mourning and as a place of rejoicing and as the sign of the end of exile and as the sign of the building of a new kingdom. Many more aspects could be listed. However, this evening we are going to focus upon one aspect in particular. The Lord’s Supper is a meal of remembrance. What does this mean?
Tonight I would like to begin by drawing your attention to our ‘remembering’ God. We can often feel uncomfortable with the language that the Bible uses about God. The Bible talks about God as someone who has a strong right arm. Many theologians feel that such language is more appropriate to a fast bowler than the Absolute Being. However, this is the language that the Spirit of God chooses to use. In the Bible God is a God who laughs, who weeps, who mocks, who sings, who is jealous, who repents and who is churned up inside. We may not like to use such language, but God describes Himself using such words. Of course, you may say, God never changes, He is omnipotent, omniscient, unmoved by passions and other such things. The Bible certainly agrees with you. However, don’t ignore the other language in favour of this ‘theologically correct’ language. The Bible uses the more graphic and colourful language far, far more. We should not be embarrassed by it. In the course of these studies we will be exploring this language in considerable depth and so it is important that we accept it from the outset.
The Bible uses this language because it is appropriate to the God that we worship. He is the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. He is the God who makes and keeps promises, He is the God who protects and guides, the God who loves and cares, the God who avenges and punishes, the God who forgives and is merciful and the God who is good to all. The god of the philsophers is not the God that we worship this evening. Our God is not far off. Our God is the Creator God who is always in some form of relationship, positive or negative, with all of creation. We preach the Incarnate God, not abstract metaphysics.
The Bible teaches us that we worship a God who ‘remembers’. In Genesis 9:12-17, we see God making a covenant with Noah. God places His rainbow in the sky and promises that whenever He looks upon the rainbow He will ‘remember’ His promise not to destroy the earth by a flood again. The rainbow is not there principally to remind us, it is there to remind God. God has made promises and the rainbow reminds Him of those promises. We see the same in Exodus 28. Aaron the High Priest has memorial stones on his shoulders and a memorial breastplate on whenever he comes before the Lord. God is to see them and ‘remember’ His people.
God’s remembering is not an empty purposeless remembering. God’s remembering is always an effective and creative event. We see this at the beginning of Genesis 8: God ‘remembers’ Noah and sends His wind to pass over the earth. Again in Exodus 2:23-25, God ‘remembers’ His covenant with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob when His people are in bondage. The next thing we read, He appears to Moses in the burning bush. This principle is again seen in Exodus 20:24 — we memorialize the name of God so that He would come and bless us. Once again in Acts 10:4 we see the same thing, this time in the NT. When God ‘remembers’, He acts and things change. God’s remembering is not always positive. We can see this in Revelation 18:5 — God can ‘remember’ for judgment as well as for salvation.
Jesus commanded us regarding the Supper to ‘do this in remembrance of Me’. We generally tend to focus upon the Supper as there to cause us to remember God’s work in Christ. However, the Supper is principally there to remind God of His work in Christ. If we understand the words ‘this do in remembrance of Me’ correctly we will read them: ‘this do as my memorial’ or ‘this do, that God may remember me’.
We can learn a lot from the grain and drink offerings of the Old Testament. These were memorial sacrifices and they would generally follow the offering of a blood sacrifice. In places such as Leviticus 2 we see the instructions for the grain offering. We see the instructions given for the drink offering in Numbers 15. We can see from Numbers 28:15 that the drinking offering accompanied all types of sacrifices, including the ones for sin. The grain or bread sacrifice probably points to the flesh of the sacrifice and the wine to its blood. This pattern can also be seen in our Lord’s words of institution of the Lord’s Supper.
In the Old Covenant system, a memorial portion of the grain offering was given to God and the remainder was eaten by the priests. No one except a priest could eat of it. The drink offering was only to be offered in the land of Canaan. This makes sense. Throughout Scripture wine is a sign of rest and Sabbath. The priests were not permitted to drink wine in the presence of the Lord because they were not permitted to rest in His presence. Whilst wandering in the wilderness, we read in Deuteronomy 29:6, the Israelites did not drink wine or eat bread. During this time God did not ‘drink wine’ either. When they entered the land and the drink offerings were offered, however, the people were not permitted to partake. The drink offering was offered wholly to the Lord. This was a sign that the people had not fully entered the Sabbath rest that they were awaiting.
In the New Covenant both God and the people can partake of this wine of rejoicing (Philippians 2:17-18). This, again, can be seen in our Lord’s words of institution. The New Covenant is an age in which the future is brought into the present. We are the firstfruits of a new creation and taste the powers of the age to come. All of this is seen in our participation in the memorial sacrifice of the wine.
The memorial sacrifice, therefore, has a twofold purpose: firstly to ‘remind’ God of the sacrifice offered previously and secondly to ‘remind’ God of the worshipper. More particularly, the purpose is always that God would ‘remember’ the worshippers in the light of the previously offered sacrifice. In the memorial offerings God ‘shares a meal’ with His people and shares in the fullness of His blessings with them. The prophet Joel laments the fact that famine has cut off the drink and grain offerings (Joel 1:9, 13). God’s ‘food’ has been cut off with the people’s. Joel draws hope from the fact that God may relent and reestablish the drink and grain offerings which act as a memorial (Joel 2:14). God would once again remember His people and reestablish the memorials.
There is an old passover prayer, which may well go back to the time of Jesus Himself. It runs: ‘Our God and God of our fathers, may there arise, and come, and come unto, be seen, accepted, heard, recollected and remembered, the remembrance of us and the recollection of us, and the remembrance of our fathers, and the remembrance of the Messiah, son of David, thy servant, and the remembrance of Jerusalem thy holy city, and the remembrance of all thy people, the house of Israel. May their remembrance come before thee, for rescue, goodness ....’ In the Lord’s Supper we are enacting just such a prayer. ‘This do, that God may remember me’. We are calling God to remember the work that He accomplished in His Son. We are calling God to remember that we are His people.
What are some of the aspects of this memorial meal? What are we calling upon God to remember? For one, we memorialize the fact that sin is done away with. We don’t have the same sacrificial system as existed in the Old Testament. We do not offer bulls, lambs or goats. The reason for this is seen in Hebrews 10:1-18. The Old Testament sacrifices were offered as a ‘reminder of sins’. Who was being reminded? As we study the chapter the answer is clear. God was the one being reminded. The offerings acted as a memorial of sin to God and meant that true fellowship could never be secured whilst they were ongoing. The passage teaches us that Jesus sacrificed Himself once for all and that consequently there remains no more offering for sin. Why not? Because of the promise of the New Covenant in Jesus’ blood: Their sins and their lawless deeds I will remember no more. Every time we celebrate the Lord’s Supper we celebrate a memorial sacrifice of this once-for-all sacrifice. We call God to remember this sacrifice and forgive, cleanse and sanctify us as a result.
In the Old Testament the altar is often considered to be a table. The altar is the table from which God eats. We see this in such verses as Leviticus 21:6-8. These verses speak of the sacrifices as the ‘bread of God’. The priests were the holy ones who gave God His ‘food’. This is the imagery that the Bible gives to us. The imagery is that of satisfaction. God ‘consumes’ or ‘eats’ that which is put on the altar. The priests were permitted to share portions of many of these sacrifices. For example, we can see that a memorial portion of the showbread was presented to God and the priests partake of the rest. This was a sign of fellowship and communion, peace with God once the barrier of sin was removed. In John’s gospel this language reappears again.
In John 6:33 Jesus teaches that He is the ‘bread of God’. If our ears are open we will recognize that He is purposely echoing the language of the Old Testament. Jesus teaches that the bread He is and gives is His flesh and that we must partake of this bread if we are to have life. The Lord’s Supper presents us with tokens of Christ’s body and blood for us to partake of. What is taught here is as follows:— God is satisfied with the sacrifice of Christ and all who become partakers in this sacrifice enjoy true communion with God. We share a table with God, He is satisfied and we are satisfied. We are priests, the sons of the High Priest, and so we are permitted to share in the communion meal. By celebrating the Lord’s Supper we ‘remind’ God of His satisfaction with the sacrifice of Jesus and call upon Him to bless us as a result.
In the Lord’s Supper we are called to proclaim the Lord’s death. This is not primarily, I believe, an act of evangelism or an act that helps us to remember Calvary. It is an action that draws God’s attention to the death of His Son on our behalf. We might think it to be a negative thing to ‘proclaim’ the death of someone. However, I believe that we have an Old Testament precedent for seeing this as a positive thing.
In the Old Testament system of justice, if a man committed manslaughter he was to flee to the nearest cities of refuge. These cities of refuge were places where he could shelter from the ‘avenger of blood’, the one who would exact the punishment of death. Only after the High Priest died could this man return to his land. The death of the High Priest was seen to cleanse the land of innocent blood. The blood of Abel called out for Cain’s exile. The blood of Christ calls out that the exiles can return. Usually the death of a leader is seen to be a time of crisis. However, for many, the death of the High Priest was a time of exodus, a time of deliverance. Whenever we celebrate the Lord’s Supper we ‘remind’ God that we are no longer aliens and strangers but are now fellow citizens, we ‘remind’ God that we are now no longer banished from his presence. We ‘remind’ God that the death sentence that once hung over our heads has been removed and we are permitted to fellowship with God once again. We ‘remind’ God about all of these things by celebrating the Lord’s Supper. By ‘reminding’ Him we call on Him to act.
As I mentioned earlier, memorials are not always positive. In Numbers 5, we see an example of this. The woman in Numbers 5 is a woman accused of harlotry. In her hand she must carry a grain offering of jealousy for a memorial. If she had committed the sin, God would remember it and would exact the punishment. Throughout the Bible we see God testing His people by means of food (Garden of Eden, Wilderness wanderings, Jesus’ temptations).
When we partake of the bread and the wine we are calling God to remember us. God will remember for either blessing or for cursing, but God will remember. There is no ‘mere eating’ of the bread and the wine. The person who eats and drinks unworthily is guilty of the body and blood of Christ Himself. In 1 Corinthians 10 Paul talks about the Israelites who all ate the same spiritual food and drink but were punished by God for their unfaithfulness. In chapter 11 of the same epistle he goes on to speak of people who are dying as a result of participating in the Lord’s Supper in an unworthy manner. God is remembering these people in judgment.
Just as the woman of Numbers 5, at the Lord’s Supper we undergo a jealousy trial. We are being tested for harlotry. We must enter fearfully into God’s presence. If we are harbouring sin or unfaithfulness we can only expect judgment. This is why we confess our sins before coming to the Supper. At the Supper God inspects His bride for unfaithfulness. If she is faithful she will be richly blessed. If she is unfaithful to Him she will receive a curse. Do not be deceived, God is not mocked.
How should we remember? Firstly, we must remember that the Lord’s Supper is primarily directed towards God, not towards ourselves. It is not principally there to help us remember Calvary, it is an action of faith towards God. For this reason it is not helpful to focus all the time upon trying to think about the death of Jesus. As it is God who remembers, the efficacy of the sacrament is not between our ears. We do it rather than meditating upon it. [Consequently, infants can partake just as meaningfully as adults — God can ‘remember’ infant members of His church just as meaningfully as He can ‘remember’ adult members.] Our attention should be focused upon calling God to act as a result of what He did in Jesus’ death. It helps to view the Supper as a dramatized prayer. We must remember that like the Jewish Passover we are re-enacting the meal of our deliverance. Just as each Passover was a call for a new deliverance, so each Lord’s Supper should be the same. Each Lord’s Supper displays the tokens of Christ’s sacrifice to cause God to ‘remember’ Christ’s once for all act on our behalf. In this respect we can see that the Lord’s Supper is a sacrifice — a memorial sacrifice pointing to the once-for-all sacrifice of Christ.
Secondly, we must remember that this is a corporate action of the people of God and not a private event. The way that we view the Lord’s Supper will colour the way that we celebrate it. If the Lord’s Supper is all about ‘me and Jesus’ then we will take the bread and the wine and concentrate on thinking about our own personal salvation. We will close our eyes in private prayer afterwards, almost oblivious to all who partake around us. We can forget that we are celebrating a meal. In a meal, who you share it with is always very important. The Lord’s Supper is the act of the church, the bride of Christ. Both corporately and individually we call God to act towards us in blessing. Both corporately and individually we call God to try us for unfaithfulness to Him. As we come before the thrice holy God in this manner we should be aware of those sitting next to us. Are we faithful as a church? Are our relationships pure? Are we harbouring grudges? Are there secret sins in our lives that we are unwilling to get rid of?
Thirdly, I would like to say a brief word about self-examination. The Bible commands us to do this. However, most people misunderstand the purpose of this. In examining ourselves we are not looking for perfection before we approach God’s table. What we are looking for is harboured sin, sin that we refuse to deal with, areas of our lives we are holding back from God, areas of disobedience and unfaithfulness. As we approach God’s table we must repent of such sins. We must repent of sins towards fellow Christians. Ideally we should have sorted these out before attending church. Self-examination is to be carried out so that we may come to the table, not so that we may be held back. We judge ourselves for unfaithfulness and repent, so that God may not judge us Himself. None of us are worthy in ourselves to approach this table. We approach only because of the worthiness of another. Place all your hope upon this One and you can be assured that you will not partake in an unworthy manner. We must partake with pentient and faithful hearts.
Fourthly, we must not empty the Supper of significance by saying that it is only bread and wine. In one sense this is perfectly true. The elements are bread and wine now. They will be bread and wine after we have prayed. They will be bread and wine when they are eaten and drunk. However, focusing on this tends to cause us to miss the point. We can fail to see the significance of the act in which the bread and the wine find their place. Let me give you some examples of what I mean: When two statesmen sign a peace treaty it is not just two guys making marks on a sheet of paper; in that very act peace is formed between two great nations. The pen they write with is not magic, nor is the paper somehow made efficacious. It is just the nature of the act. Likewise when two people get married. The ring is not some magical ‘ring of power’ (in a Lord of the Rings sense!) — it is just a ring. However, the act of putting on that ring is life-transforming.
In the action of the Lord’s Supper we truly partake of the flesh and blood of Jesus Christ and all that it signifies. The one who partakes by faith is greatly blessed and grows in union with the Saviour. The one who partakes in unbelief and unfaithfulness eats and drinks judgment to himself and is guilty of the body and blood of the Lord. Participating in the Lord’s Supper is not merely eating bread and wine. It is an action done in God’s presence and in the presence of His blessing and curse. We call upon God to remember us.
When we celebrate the Lord’s Supper we certainly do think about the work of Jesus in the past. However, our eyes are fixed upon the future. The death is not proclaimed as a mere past event, but as the dawning of the New Covenant. In each Lord’s Supper we are groaning for the consummation of this covenant. We are waiting for the final climax. This is our way of seeking both the spreading of God’s kingdom here and now and the fullness of its manifestation in the future. We present God with the work which He has started and pray for its completion. We proclaim the Lord’s death until He comes… In this memorial we are looking to God to act.
We live in a society that has turned its back on God. We live in a society that despises God. We live in a country where God’s Son is not accepted as the King. Do we really want God to come? What does God’s coming mean? It means blessing but it will also mean judgment. We will be tried and tested by Him. Will we be found faithful? It is a fearful thing to have God come. In this memorial we call God to act. However, we must remember that the God that we approach is not a tame God at our beck and call. Our God is a consuming fire. We must cultivate the fear of the Lord as we approach His Supper. The Lord’s Supper is the place where God examines us to see if we are faithful. Do not take it lightly. God’s coming is a very fearful thing.
Although we must approach fearfully, we should also approach confidently. We should not cower in dread of imminent destruction. No. The God we approach is gracious. We certainly call God to remember us and to try us. However, this is not the principal thing that is remembered in the Supper. The Supper is there to remind God of the death of His Son, Jesus Christ. You see, we approach confidently because this is the memorial of Jesus Christ. God’s remembering of us is always done in the light of His remembering of His Son, the One in whom He is well pleased. What great hope of blessing can we gain from this truth! ‘Do this’, Jesus said, ‘as my memorial’.
N.T. Wright on Communion
I have just finished reading The Meal Jesus Gave Us: Understanding Holy Communion by Tom (N.T.) Wright. It is a brilliantly written book. How I wish that I had the ability to convey Biblical truth in such compelling language! His illustrations are scintillating and engaging. The book is hard to put down; I didn't — I read it in one sitting! This is the sort of book to be recommended to the new Christian and to the seminary student alike. It is also a book to recommend to the hoary theology professor: this is how to make theology relevant and readable.
Wright begins by establishing the power of symbolic action (though you would only notice if you were looking out for it!) using the example of a Martian at a birthday party. After this, we are invited to a Passover, 200BC, in which we learn the significance of that meal. Having already experienced one Passover meal we think we know what to expect when we are invited to another. But no! All of our expectations are overturned as we sit among the disciples as Jesus says and does the totally unexpected. We suddenly realize that we have been present at an epoch-making event and a shiver runs down our spine. After this we find ourselves in Colosse AD56, where we are invited into a new family, a new story and a new life, all embodied in a special meal, in which we discover a new identity. This is part 1 of the book.
In part 2, Wright begins to unpack the story of the first part of the book. He discusses why Holy Communion has become so controversial and gives a very cursory account of its history. Wright then offers us a particular way of understanding the sacraments — and Holy Communion in particular. We are like on a train on tracks, having come from the past and heading to the future.
Wright then uses this to explain his position on the 'sacrifice of the Mass' question, concluding that we don't offer Christ afresh but that every celebration of Holy Communion is a feast on the one, single sacrifice. Wright combines the illustration of the railway station with the illustration of the grapes of Eschol (Numbers 13). The Lord's Supper is a foretaste of the fruits of the promised land (the renewed earth, not some Gnostic heaven).As we are travelling the line that leads from the Upper Room to the great feast in God's new world, from the victory of Calvary and Easter to the final victory over death itself (1 Corinthians 15:26), we find at every station — in other words, at every celebration of the Jesus meal — that God's past catches up with us again, and God's future comes to meet us once more.
All of this is summed up in a brilliant little sentence in 1 Corinthians 11:26. "Whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup," says Paul, "you announce the Lord's death until he comes." This present moment ('whenever') somehow holds together the one-off past event ('the Lord's death') and the great future when God's world will be remade under Jesus' loving rule ('until he comes'). Past and future come rushing together into the present, pouring an ocean of meaning into the little bottle of 'now'.
Wright's attention then turns to the question of the presence of Jesus in the Supper. He says that he finds Calvin's view (that Christ is not brought down to the table, but we are taken up to heaven) to be helpful, but that he prefers to think of it "in terms of time rather than space".
...we may conclude that within the whole action of the Holy Communion, the Eucharist — the story, the drama, the actions, and above all the prayer and the love — this food, through the Spirit's mysterious work, is a true anticipation in the present of the food that will sustain us in the age to come. And the name of that food is: Jesus.The next chapters describe the actual celebration of the Supper. Wright invites us to look at it in terms of a drama, rather than a visible sermon (to be accompanied by an explicating audible sermon!). He emphasizes the manner in which we are sent out from the Supper as "rejuvenated, nourished Christians, 'to live and work to God's praise and glory'."
In the final chapter Wright seeks to address some of the practical questions surrounding the celebration of Holy Communion: Why do we celebrate? When do we celebrate? What do we celebrate? Where do we celebrate? How do we celebrate? Who celebrates? Wright concludes by pleading for two things. Firstly, that all baptized individuals, including children should be admitted to the Supper. Secondly, Communion should be shared between Christians of different denominations (Wright is clearly thinking principally of Protestants and Catholics), as a means by which a unity can be achieved (not merely the goal of 'unity negotiations'). The Lord's Supper provides the context in which we can come to understand and respect each other more.
All things considered, I think that Wright has painted an appealing picture of how to view the Lord's Supper. In the process of his treatment he breaks a number of well-established evangelical paradigms. Firstly, he presents a doctrine of the Supper that emphasizes doing over meditating. The elements are not there to be stared at, but to be eaten and drunk. Secondly, Wright is no 'Zwinglian'. The Supper is characterized by the Messiah's presence not His absence. Consequently, there is no need to conjure up His presence by intellectual meditation. Thirdly, Wright describes the Supper in such a manner that the individualistic emphasis on the 'what does it mean for me' question is avoided. The Supper is all about 'us' and we as individuals finding our significance within the context of this 'us'. Finally, the Supper for Wright is a feast, not a funeral. We are not remembering a dead Saviour; we are proclaiming the event in which He defeated the prince of this world. This is triumph, not tragedy! He has given us the privilege of partaking in that which He risked and gave His life to obtain (John 6:53-58; cf. 1 Chronicles 11:18-19).
What does all of this mean in practice? Firstly, we should concentrate less on the mechanics of our Saviour's presence and more on the meaning of his presence.
Secondly, we should take a wide angle lens view of the Supper (as Peter Leithart argues). We must focus, not just upon the elements, but upon the meal. As Leithart points out, if a Martian were to read the medieval scholastics' theologies of the Supper he wouldn't have the slightest idea that he was reading about a meal! This can often apply to our theologies also. My 13 year-old brother made the perceptive remark today that, in our treatment of subjects such as the Lord's Supper, we have the tendency to focus so much upon taking them apart to analyze each element that we seldom get around to putting them back together again. Wright, however, does not take such an approach to his study of Communion.
Thirdly, an individualistic approach is out. It is to be questioned whether we should all close our eyes and silently pray individually after receiving the elements if the Supper really is what Wright says it is.
Fourthly, the Supper is not the place for some long discourse about what it means (or does not mean as so often is the case).
Fifthly, Christ is present, we receive Him by faith. We do not have to bring Him near by fevered mental activity (if we were consistent with such a view of the sacraments we would be Pelagians).
Sixthly, it is high time we recognize that the Christian faith is a life, not merely a collection of doctrines! Wright's view of the Supper shields us from such a Gnostic tendency.
Seventhly, we must seek to have broader table fellowship. I do not feel easy about Wright's ecumenism. However, he has got some very important points to make in this area. It is imperative that we work towards a principled ecumenism.
Finally, we must be willing to carefully examine the question of paedocommunion. If Wright is right in the basic contours of his Eucharistic theology, paedocommunion is quite natural. The burden of proof is clearly upon those who would deny the Supper to children.
I would recommend Peter Leithart's book Blessed Are The Hungry as a good place to start for anyone who wishes to read further on this issue.




