Escaping Zurich: Why (many) Evangelicals Get Communion Wrong
The language we use when talking about Communion has a great deal more to do with our history than our Bibles.
[note: Although written primarily for churches of the Stone-Campbell Movement that practice weekly communion with an assumed Zwinglian theology, the following is also broadly applicable to most American Protestants]
A quick review of any English Bible will demonstrate words
like memorial or emblematic or symbolic are not actually found in any of the
passages about Communion. So, where do
they come from and why do we hear them so often? The flip side of that question might be: why
are there a number of biblical phrases and teachings about the Lord’s Supper we
rarely hear?
To understand why we hear what we hear, it is important we
take a brief trip back to sixteenth century Switzerland. Here, as in part of Germany, the Protestant
Reformation is being born. Martin Luther
is a name known widely as one of the Reformation’s great pioneers. John Calvin, living in the next generation,
is almost as well known. But, at roughly
the same time Luther is bringing his call for fides sola (faith alone) to Saxony, a young priest named Ulrich
Zwingli is leading Zurich into an even more dramatic break with Rome.
Zwingli may be the most important leader of the Protestant
Reformation that many people have never heard of. Luther will only want to change whatever
parts of traditional worship are biblically wrong. The complex doctrine of Transubstantiation
(the miraculous transformation of the bread and wine into the physical body and
blood of Jesus) is rejected and any reference to it removed from the
liturgy. Scripture, particularly through
an extended sermon, is given a more important role in worship. Both the bread and wine are offered to people
in Communion (called Communion in both kinds) and people are urged to take it
every week, not just the traditional once a year. To our eyes and hear, though, worship in
Luther’s Germany would have seemed very, well, Catholic.
But a trip to Zurich will bring us into a radically
different approach to worship. All of
the art in the building has been removed, including most of the stained
glass. The pulpit is elevated and the
Altar, now simply called the Table, is on the same level as the worshippers. The man leading the worship does not wear the
elaborate vestments of the Medieval Priest, but the simple attire of an
academic or a teacher. Scripture
dominates everything. It is the mind,
not the flesh, that is to be fed. Even
though Zwingli is a gifted musician, music has been entirely removed from the
service. Like the paintings and statues
that are also gone, music appeals to the flesh.
You would probably notice the absence of something else, also. Communion.
Zwingli suggested Communion should be offered once every three
months.
A generation later when John Calvin came to nearby Geneva,
many of the changes in worship Zwingli had fostered at Zurich were already in
place. In fact, Calvin, like Alexander
Campbell some three centuries later, would conclude that weekly Communion ought
to be the practice of the church. The
town leaders, however, saw no need to change their adaption of Zwingli’s ideas
of frequency. Since there were four
churches in Geneva, each one celebrated Communion only once a year, making
Communion available once a quarter, as it was in Zurich.
Zwingli also applied the same overall emphasis of
downplaying the physical (visible) for the spiritual (invisible) in his
approach to the two remaining Sacraments (or Ordinances): Baptism and
Communion. In both instances, the
outward physical action was only important because it suggested an unseen
inward act. Anything as physical as
water or bread or wine must be symbolic.
And, symbolic, in Zwingli’s approach, should always be preceded by the
word “merely.”
This merely symbolic or
memorial meal serves very well the
purpose of distinguishing itself from the looming shadow of Roman Catholicism
and its mysterious doctrine of Transubstantiation. It removes from the meal any real possibility
people would think of it as a re-sacrifice of Christ or as a means of renewing
the forgiveness of their sins. For most
Protestant traditions, it also fits nicely into the absence of Communion in
most Sunday worship gatherings.
The challenge to this approach to Communion is in
reconciling it with the language of scripture and in several troubling
questions it seems to raise.
Remember may not mean
recall. To our modern ears, the
opposite of remember would be forget. In
a number of biblical passages, however, it would more accurate to describe the
opposite of remember as ignore, especially with the idea of failing to
act. In other words, remember often communicated
active involvement, not just mentally recalling some past person or event. Thus we read that God remembered Noah and the animals and made a wind blow over to the
earth so the waters would subside. (Gen. 8:1)
God remembered Abraham and
sent Lot out of the doomed city of Sodom. (Gen. 19:29) God remembered
Rachel and she became pregnant. (Gen 30:22)
God remembered his covenant
with Abraham and called on Moses to deliver the suffering Israelites from
Egyptian slavery. (Ex. 2:24) And, of
course, the Hebrews are commanded to remember
the Sabbath day. (Ex.20:8) This fourth commandment focuses on how people are to
participate in the Sabbath, not whether or not they know it is Saturday. Thus, the fourth commandment in Deut. 5:15 is
not to remember the Sabbath, but to keep or observe the Sabbath. To
ancient readers the two phrases would be synonymous.[1] There are far too many other examples to list
here.
In this case, then, our modern idea of a memorial is simply not a biblically adequate
understanding of Communion. A memorial
is to think about someone or something in the past that we believe to be
important to us. The Lincoln
Memorial. A Memorial Service for a
deceased relative. A Memorial Plaque
listing a community’s fallen soldiers.
The two distinct definitions of remember are depicted in the
oft told joke where, while reading the Will of dead rich uncle, a lawyer says,
“And to my nephew Fred who I promised to remember in my Will: Hi, Fred.” The joke is in the switch of meanings. Fred wanted to be given a portion of the
estate. The uncle, instead, merely
recalled his nephew’s name.
The language of
scripture does not fit Zwingli’s approach.
In addition to a substantially different image of what “in remembrance of Me” means, Zwingli’s
notion that the elements are mere symbols designed to invoke inward meditation
does not fit what we are told in scripture.
The bread and the cup are a participation
(sharing, communion) with the body and blood of Christ. (1 Cor. 10:16-17) After recounting Jesus’ words in the Last
Supper, Paul goes on to warn that doing Communion in an unworthy manner,
results in people being held liable (guilty
or perhaps answerable to) the
body and blood of Christ. (1 Cor. 11:27)
Expanding on this, Paul urges serious reflection on Christ’s body and on
one’s own life, or taking the bread and the cup is nothing less that eating and
drinking judgment – a fact demonstrated in the physical sicknesses and deaths
of some within the Corinthian church. (1 Cor. 11:28-30)
These passages do not ignore the importance of the
heart. But, they clearly place something
both wonderful and potentially dangerous within the physical bread that is
eaten and the physical wine that is drunk.
A time of corporate meditation on the cross, no matter how intensely
experienced, is not remotely a substitute for the physical bread and cup.
Of course, these truths seem to raise the fear moving away
from Zwingli always raises: the Medieval belief in which Christ is re-crucified
and people are crushing the physical body of Jesus between their teeth. At least in part, it is this looming ghost of
cypto-transubstantiation that keeps Zwingli’s inadequate views so dominate
among Protestants. But, it may be asked,
are these really the only two options we have?
It should be remembered that Zwingli took a similar merely symbolic approach to Christian baptism and that this
approach has been historically rejected by most within the Stone-Campbell
Movement.
The New Testament never explains how or in what manner the
cup and the loaf offer Christians a way to participate in the body and blood of
Jesus - any more than it explains how or in what manner Jesus’ death serves as
a propitiation of God’s wrath or how it is that water serves as a means of
being buried with Christ. We do not obey
only as far as we have no questions left unanswered. That would be a pitiably small degree of
obedience.
As to the inevitable fear leaving out words like emblematic
would be caving into the old specter of Transubstantiation, time and space
permit only a couple of brief. Since the
New Testament never explains how the elements are a participation in the body
and blood of Christ, shouldn’t we resist later human explanations? And, is the only benefit we can imagine from
being invited to share in the body and blood of Jesus limited to the realm of
forgiveness?
Acknowledging Communion is a sharing in His body and blood
should elevate its importance.
Regardless of what we may tell ourselves, we invest extended preparation
for and extended time in those parts of worship we believe to be most
important. A hurried Communion, prefaced
with no reference to the Last Supper, no warnings of its potential dangers, and
little time in prayer puts Communion at roughly the same level of importance as
the announcements. Yes, we do them every
week. No, they are not critically
important to worship.
We should abandon words like symbolic or emblematic or
memorial when explaining Communion and replace them with phrases and
descriptions actually used in the New Testament. Centrally, of course, this would include
reminding us that, “the Lord Jesus, on the night He was betrayed, took bread, and
when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body, which is for
you; do this in remembrance of me…”
A particularly delightful, brief, and highly readable book that will deepen your (or any leader in your church) understanding of the Lord's Supper is The Meal that Jesus Gave Us. It is by noted New Testament scholar Tom (N.T.) Wright. Among other things, Wright is impressive in his ability to communicate effectively at a popular and readable level.
A particularly delightful, brief, and highly readable book that will deepen your (or any leader in your church) understanding of the Lord's Supper is The Meal that Jesus Gave Us. It is by noted New Testament scholar Tom (N.T.) Wright. Among other things, Wright is impressive in his ability to communicate effectively at a popular and readable level.
4 comments:
Bravo, Tom. Your blog helped give some additional historical perspective to thoughts and feelings I have had off and on most of my life.
Well said, good sir. If I understood him correctly, Bob Webber contended for the point that Christ could be present in the bread and the cup just as he was present in the gathering of two or more. Far short OS transubstatntiation, but far more than a memorial.
Yes, he did. Good memory you have there.
Thanks, Ben. Coming from someone whose keen mind I greatly respect, that is especially encouraging.
Post a Comment