Efficacy of Eucharist: Its Marginalization in Evangelicalism

Visible Signs of Invisible Grace: Sacraments for the “Low Church” (Part 3)

Keith D. Stanglin

See parts one and two of this series

In my previous post, I provided a short history of the development of baptism throughout history, up through evangelicalism.

EFFICACY OF EUCHARIST

Its Marginalization in Evangelicalism

1. Merely symbolic (memorial)

How exactly is Christ present with regard to the eucharistic elements?  In the biblical account, Jesus simply says, “This is my body….  This is my blood.”  Thus early Christians, with few exceptions, simply repeated the realist language of the New Testament without specifying any particular theory.  Therefore, the ambiguity of the New Testament with regard to how Christ is present in the Lord’s Supper carried over into the early church.  After noting this lack of clarity in the patristic language regarding the presence of Christ at the eucharist, Jaroslav Pelikan writes,

Yet it does seem “express and clear” that no orthodox father of the second or third century of whom we have record either declared the presence of the body and blood of Christ in the Eucharist to be no more than symbolic (although Clement and Origen came close to doing so) or specified a process of substantial change by which the presence was effected (although Ignatius and Justin came close to doing so).  Within the limits of those excluded extremes was the doctrine of the real presence.[1]

This ambiguity of language explains how theologians on both sides of subsequent medieval and early modern debates over the question of real presence could likewise appeal to the New Testament and patristic writings.  These works simply did not resolve the controversies that later, more precise definitions raised.  It was left to the later centuries to speculate either, on the one hand, that the consecrated elements become the literal body and blood of Jesus, or, on the other hand, that they are only figuratively so.  And, sadly, along the way, it also became more customary for churches to choose one side and then condemn the other.

It is well known that, although both Luther and Zwingli rejected the doctrine of transubstantiation and its later medieval interpretation, nevertheless they could not agree on what to put in its place.  It is the primary dispute, chronologically and otherwise, that divided the communions later known as Lutheran and Reformed.  Based on the words, “This is my body,…this is my blood,” Luther insisted on the literal, bodily presence of Christ, whereas Zwingli insisted that the statements are metaphorical.  It depends on what the meaning of “is” is.  For Zwingli, “This is my body” means, “This represents my body.”  Thus, Zwinglians emphasized that there is no bodily presence of Christ in holy communion, and that the benefit that comes from partaking of the meal is primarily, or perhaps exclusively, one of remembrance.  As this polemical concept has developed in evangelicalism, it has tended to emphasize what the Lord’s Supper is not—namely, the literal bodily presence of Christ.  When the negative point against “real presence” becomes the focus, it resembles what Erickson calls the “doctrine of the real absence.”[2]

John Calvin spent much time and energy trying to articulate a eucharistic doctrine of presence that both Lutheran and Reformed believers could affirm.  Although Lutherans finally would not subscribe to Calvin’s views, Calvin inclined to stronger language than the Zwinglians with regard to the “spiritual presence” of Christ.[3]  With this in mind, the language used by modern evangelicals Erickson and Grudem sounds more Calvinian than Zwinglian.  They both affirm the presence of Christ, that we meet him in holy communion.  Erickson mentions that the Spirit makes Christ “real in our experience,” and Grudem is pleased to advocate the “spiritual presence” of Christ.[4] 

If the mode of Christ’s presence is ambiguous in the church fathers, the efficacy of the Lord’s Supper is a little clearer.  The early and medieval church commonly thought about the eucharist in terms of conveying grace.  Because the Lord’s Supper grants “communion and union” with the divine nature, drawing God’s people into “uniform theosis,” (Pseudo-)Dionysius the Areopagite passes on the tradition of calling the eucharist the “sacrament of sacraments” (τελετῶν τελετή).[5]

Evangelical theologians are a little more guarded than the Areopagite.  Erickson speaks much about the Lord’s Supper being beneficial and effective, but he never quite defines what that efficacy is.  The Supper does remind us of the death of Christ and symbolize the unity of believers.[6]  As for Grudem, he speaks of the “spiritual blessing,” “spiritual nourishment,” and “spiritual participation in the benefits of the redemption that he [Christ] earns.”[7]  Both writers stop short of emphasizing the idea of grace being conveyed.

In Churches of Christ, although some have stressed the presence of Jesus at the table and the meal as a means of grace,[8] language about the Lord’s Supper is usually Zwinglian.  As in many Reformed churches, it is a commemorative feast. 

            2. From Frequent to Infrequent

As for frequency, the New Testament provides implicit evidence that holy communion was taken when the church gathered on the first day of every week (see Lk. 24:1, 13, 30–35; Acts 20:7; 1 Cor. 11:20, 33; 16:2; Heb. 10:24–25).

The earliest Christian worship manual, the Didache (ca. AD 70), prescribes meeting every first day of the week for the Lord’s Supper.[9]  The earliest Christian description of a worship assembly, Justin Martyr’s first Apology (ca. AD 155), describes meeting on Sunday for the Lord’s Supper, a practice so central to the assembly and Christian life that the elements were taken by the deacons and distributed to those who were absent.[10]  By the third century, there is some evidence of the Lord’s Supper also on other days in addition to Sunday.  It came to be offered daily in some places.  But weekly Lord’s Supper on Sunday remained the norm and continued throughout the early and medieval periods of church history.  However, the laity in the West partook less and less frequently, and expectations became very low.  By 1215 (Lateran IV), it was mandated that Christians should come to church to confess sins and take the eucharist at least once a year at Easter.[11]

Thus by the thirteenth century, many Christians were partaking of the frequently offered Mass only once a year.  By the early fifteenth century, the laity were allowed to take communion only in one kind, justified by the doctrine of concomitance; only the clergy could have the cup, too.[12]  So, on the eve of the Reformation, even though the church celebrated Mass weekly (and even daily), most people did not partake frequently, and if they did, it was only the bread.  But, the “Mass” or “divine liturgy” was still being celebrated every Sunday, even if only the clergy were partaking.

In addition to their insistence that the laity be given communion in both kinds, another obvious change introduced by Protestant reformers had to do with frequency.  Recall that the sacramental nature of the Lord’s Supper had been questioned by many Protestants, so they did not want people to think superstitiously about the bread and cup or to offer divine worship to the elements, and they didn’t want the ceremony of the sacrament to overshadow or trump the preaching of the word.  In addition, former Roman Catholics were not accustomed to their own weekly participation.  So the Lord’s Supper was offered in the church less frequently.  Yet Protestant believers generally celebrated the Lord’s Supper more frequently than most Roman Catholic laity actually did—every quarter or month.   But this is the first time in the history of the church that a congregation’s Sunday service would go by without celebrating the Lord’s Supper.  Some reformers wanted it more frequently.  Calvin preferred weekly Lord’s Supper: “The Lord’s table should have been spread at least once a week for the assembly of Christians, and the promises declared in it should feed us spiritually.”[13]  One point that Calvin made was that partaking only once a year reflected and encouraged spiritual laziness, the “torpor of the sluggish.”[14]  His assumption is that the Lord’s Supper is a time for covenant renewal, confession of sin, and getting our lives right with God.  One should not approach the table with unrepented sin.  But the magistrates in Geneva wouldn’t have weekly communion.  Indeed, for most Protestants, quarterly or every other month became the normal frequency for the Lord’s Supper—at most, monthly.  This move to displace the eucharist ensured that preaching would become the new sacrament and center of the Lord’s Day assembly, without which no Sunday service would be complete.  In one generation, much of Europe went from celebrating the sacrament without an intelligible proclamation of the Word to the proclamation of the Word without the sacrament.

Some evangelical theologians today seem fairly open to weekly Lord’s Supper.  Grudem notes that, if it is planned and executed well, the Lord’s Supper could be done once a week.[15]  Erickson does not specify how often the Lord’s Supper should be taken, but he is concerned with the eucharist becoming “routinized” by observing it “so frequently as to make it seem trivial or so commonplace that we go through the motions without really thinking about the meaning.”[16] 

Perhaps actual evangelical practice is more telling than the opinions of professional theologians.  Monthly or quarterly Lord’s Supper is probably still the most common practice among evangelicals.  The Lord’s Supper, accompanied by the Word and once the center of the Lord’s Day assembly, has been, in most Protestant churches, replaced by preaching, and, most weeks, without sacrament.  And now, with the decline of preaching, many evangelical assemblies have, on most Lord’s Days, no eucharist and very little preaching.  It is now the music or concert, often reductionistically referred to as “worship” and juxtaposed to the preaching, that functions as the new center and, in effect, the new sacrament of evangelicalism.  Thus, much of Western Christianity has gone from sacrament without word to word without sacrament to, now, concert without word or sacrament.

See Part 1 and Part 2 of “Visible Signs of Invisible Grace,” and come back for the next installment.

Read part 1 of this series

Read part 3 of this series

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[1] Jaroslav Pelikan, The Christian Tradition, 5 vols. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1971–89), vol. 1:167.

[2] Erickson, Christian Theology, 1123.

[3] The entire issue of Reformation & Renaissance Review 18/1 (2016) includes helpful essays and primary sources related to Calvin’s role in the so-called Consensus Tigurinus, including the events before and after it.

[4] Erickson, Christian Theology, 1122-23; Grudem, Systematic Theology, 995-96.

[5] Dionysius the Areopagite, Ecclesiastical Hierarchy III.i, in Patrologia Graeca, ed. J.-P. Migne, 161 vols. (Paris, 1857–66), vol. 3:424C-D; ET, Pseudo-Dionysius: The Complete Works, trans. Paul Rorem, The Classics of Western Spirituality (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1987), 209. Telethv means “perfector” or can refer to mystic rites. See also the later discussion at ibid. IV.iii.12 (ET, 232).

[6] Erickson, Christian Theology, 1123-24.

[7] Grudem, Systematic Theology, 990, 996.

[8] E.g., in line with Alexander Campbell, note E. G. Sewell: “Proper attendance upon the Lord’s Supper is a wonderful means of grace to strengthen the hearts and lives of Christians in all things connected with the service of God.” E. A. Elam: “Every time the Supper is observed, Jesus is present.” For these quotations, both of which come from the 1915 Gospel Advocate, and for further discussion of sacramental theology in Churches of Christ, see John Mark Hicks, “Stone-Campbell Sacramental Theology,” Restoration Quarterly 50/1 (2008): 35-48, here 42 n. 34.

[9] Didache 14:1: “But every Lord’s Day of the Lord gather yourselves together, and break bread, and give thanksgiving (eujcaristhvsate) after having confessed your transgressions, that your sacrifice may be pure.”

[10] Justin Martyr, 1 Apology 67.

[11] Lateran IV (1215), Canon 21, in Decrees, 1:245: “All the faithful of either sex, after they have reached the age of discernment, should individually confess all their sins in a faithful manner to their own priest at least once a year, and let them take care to do what they can to perform the penance imposed on them. Let them reverently receive the sacrament of the eucharist at least at Easter unless they think, for a good reason and on the advice of their own priest, that they should abstain in receiving it for a time. Otherwise they shall be barred from entering a church during their lifetime and they shall be denied a christian burial at death.”

[12] Communion in one kind was decreed at the Council of Constance, session 13 (15 June 1415), in Decrees, 1:418-19. According to the doctrine of concomitance, only the bread was necessary, for the blood was also contained in the body.

[13] Inst. IV.xvii.46.

[14] Inst. IV.xvii.46. This is the language of Henry Beveridge’s translation, to be preferred over the McNeill/Battles edition’s “inertia of indolent people.”

[15] Grudem, Systematic Theology, 999.

[16] Erickson, Christian Theology, 1126.