The traditional thesis that justification for the post-Reformation separation of a ministry of preaching and the Eucharist lies in the existence of two different forms of worship in the NT—the one deriving from the synagogue worship tradition, the other from the institution of Jesus—has proved to be untenable in modern exegesis (at first O. Cullmann, then G. Kretschmar, Hahn, et al.). In place of the Jewish (and pagan) cult Christ instituted a table fellowship within which the proclamation of the Word to the community took place (H. W. Heidland). (emphasis added) Alongside this was the service of baptism and also missionary preaching. Other meetings are to be regarded as complementing the basic eucharistic structure or as singling out specific elements of this structure, and they are always to be related to it.
Nathan D. Mitchell, Frank C. Senn, et al., “Worship,” The Encyclopedia of Christianity (Grand Rapids, MI; Leiden, Netherlands: Wm. B. Eerdmans; Brill, 2008), 787.
Paul Bradshaw, a contemporary liturgical scholar, has critiqued a common way of narrating the origins of the Eucharist. In this common way of telling the story, a single highly standardized eucharistic practice developed early on in the Christian church. This fairly uniform practice was based on Christ’s words and actions at the Last Supper. Bradshaw calls this “the Dixian hypothesis” after Dom Gregory Dix. Dix was instrumental in making this the standard story through his influential book The Shape of the Liturgy. Bradshaw argues in numerous books and essays that instead there were at least two points of origin, the meal ministry of Jesus and the Last Supper. Drawing from John’s Gospel, the Didache, Ignatius of Antioch, Justin Martyr, and Irenaeus, he argues that some parts of early Christianity understood their eucharistic meals not against the background of “the Last Supper nor … the impending passion,” but rather the meal ministry of Jesus. Christ’s life-giving “flesh” rather than sacrificed “body” was being remembered, and “an eschatological anticipation of God’s Kingdom” was being celebrated, one in which “the hungry are fed” and in which “tax-collectors and sinners” are being welcomed. (emphasis added)
Bradshaw argues that the loss of this other emphasis over time, especially as eucharistic liturgies became more standardized in the fourth and fifth centuries, led in part to a decrease in the frequency of reception of the elements of bread and wine by members of the church. The greater emphasis on the “sacrifice” of the Eucharist accomplished by the priest in remembrance of the sacrifice of Christ’s “body” made the reception and co-celebration of the people less central. As Bradshaw puts it, there was “a disproportionate emphasis, if you like, on altar rather than table.” (emphasis added)
David L. Stubbs, Table and Temple: The Christian Eucharist and Its Jewish Roots (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2020), 136. (Reference is being made to Paul F. Bradshaw, Eucharistic Origins; Reconstructing Early Christian Worship.)
A long time ago in a town far,
far away....
It was years and years of doing just that, as well as overseeing and experiencing and partaking of many different forms of communion, from the common small cracker and thimble of grape juice to a loaf of bread and a shared cup to the Eastern Orthodox priest-administered Eucharist, etc., that led me to write this blog post.
It so impressed me that instead of just passing the cup around shortly after I had broken and passed the loaf around, I continued speaking and praying aloud about the bread, His body, giving everyone time to eat the bread slowly and to experience Him as I was experiencing Him, and to finish it before the cup came.
This was not for me something to be analyzed theologically, like:
Rather, it was a suprarational thing, maybe even mystical (without the bad associations that word sometimes has)—or at least it was to me. I don’t know if anyone else there sensed what I sensed. It transcended reality and the words the Scriptures use to relate what Jesus said. It didn’t contradict them (though one could perhaps read the Scriptures literally and find fault with what I am saying here), but in a sense it overshadowed them and gave them life—like there was a web or cocoon of light that enveloped the inscripturated words, thus containing them and likewise illuminating them. (This was the “image” that was sort of impressed on me as I talked later with Timothy about it, though I didn’t mention this to him.)1) Are the elements just symbols, or 2) is Jesus a) spiritually or even b) physically present in the bread and wine/juice, or 3) is it something else along the spectrum of which these two views are the extremes?
And it likewise touched on Jesus’s words that “where two or three are gathered together in My name, there I am in the midst of them.” He really is there with us in those times, not just “by faith.” And He was there tonight.
And He wasn’t there apart from our “communion”; He was there because of it, in our gathering together and in our eating and in our drinking of His body and His blood. Eating and drinking with us in His Father’s Kingdom.
Our “communion” time is perhaps only a foretaste of the Kingdom which is to come—and yet tonight it was the Kingdom, here and now. And it is the Kingdom, here and now. Communion with Him.
I talked with Timothy a bit about it afterwards.
I shared this by e-mail with some who were there and with some who weren’t.
We must add that the Seder Amram Gaon, in conformity with the oldest rabbinical tradition, prescribes certain variations in the third berakah, either for the Sabbath or for a high holy day.93
The festive form is especially noteworthy, and all the more so because it is the object of very specific allusions in the Toseftah.94 After the petition for the kingdom of the house of David to return to its place, it introduces this passage:
“Our God, and the God of our fathers, may the remembrance [or “memorial”] of our fathers and the remembrance of Jerusalem, thy city, and the remembrance of the Messiah, the son of David, thy servant, and the remembrance of thy people, the whole house of Israel, arise and come, come to pass, be seen and accepted and heard, be remembered and be mentioned before thee for deliverance, for good, for grace, for lovingkindness and for mercy on this such and such a day. Remember us, jhwh, our God, on it for good and visit us on it for blessing and save us on it unto life by a word of salvation and mercy, and spare, favour and show us mercy, for thou art a gracious and merciful God and King.”
NOTE: I added the underlining of each occurrence of “remembrance” and also inserted “[the remembrance]” before “of our fathers” to reflect the wording of the Hebrew original. See images below+ showing the English and Hebrew text from David Hedegård’s book that Bouyer quotes from (marked with red brackets) and the occurrences of zikkaron (green underline) within the quoted section.
What is remarkable in this text is the so abundant use made of the term memorial* (in Hebrew: zikkaron). It is impossible to imagine a better confirmation than this text for the thesis already so solidly established by Jeremias in his book on the eucharistic words of Jesus.95 The “memorial” here is not merely a simple commemoration. It is a sacred sign, given by God to his people who preserve it as their pre-eminent spiritual treasure. This sign or pledge implies a continuity, a mysterious permanence of the great divine actions, the mirabilia Dei commemorated by the holy days. For it is for the Lord himself a permanent attestation of his fidelity to himself. It is therefore the basis for a trusting supplication that the unfailing power of the Word which produced the mirabilia Dei renew them and accompany them in the present. It is in this sense that the “memory” of the divine actions which the people have kept faithfully can urge Adonai to “remember” his people. For our subjective commemoration is merely the reflection of an objective commemoration, established by God, which first of all bears witness to himself of his own fidelity. Hence this prayer formula, which is so characteristic and which was to pass over from the Synagogue into the Church: “Remember us, O Lord.”
The meaningful expressions petitioning that “the remembrance of thy people, the whole house of Israel, arise and come, come to pass, be seen and accepted and heard, be remembered and mentioned before thee for deliverance, for good, for grace, for lovingkindness and for mercy on such and such a day …” underline the objective character rightly attributed by Jeremias to the memorial understood in this sense. A pledge given by God to his faithful, precisely so that they will re-present it to him as the homage of their faith in his fidelity, and in thus becoming the basis of their supplication, the “memorial” therefore becomes, as Max Thurian emphasizes, a superior form of sacrifice,—the sacrifice that it fully integrated in the Word and the act of thanksgiving which it arouses as a response.
Nothing proves this better than the fact that this “memorial” formula was added similarly to the Abodah prayer, which originally consecrated the Temple sacrifices. Hence the sacrificial character attributed to the communal meal.96 In blessing God for its meal and in acknowledging in it through this berakah the memorial of the mirabilia Dei of creation and redemption, the community acknowledges it as the efficacious sign of the perpetual actuality within itself of these mirabilia, and still more precisely of their eschatological accomplishment in its favor. The prayer for everything which leads to this accomplishment finds here the assurance of a pledge. In “acknowledging” the inexhaustible power of the Word that creates and saves, the faith of Israel, we may say, becomes one with its object. The people here is itself consecrated to the accomplishment of the divine plan, while it welcomes it in a mysterious and real anticipation.97 Here we have, the source as it were both of the Christian notion of the eucharistic sacrifice, and more generally, of the efficaciousness of the sacraments, as this was understood by the first Christian generations. As we shall see, the sacramental-sacrificial power of the eucharist will actually find the basic development of its expression in this third berakah, which has become the eucharistic anamnesis, together with its further extension in what will be called the epiclesis.
* The passage quoted from David Hedegård’s translation of Seder R. Amran Gaon uses “remembrance” instead of “memorial.”
Footnotes
93 D. H., pp. 151 ff.
The footnote reference “D. H.” is to David Hedegård, Seder R. Amram Gaon, Part I, Hebrew Text with critical Apparatus, translation with Notes and Introduction (Lund, 1951), available online here:
English: https://archive.org/details/DavidHedegardSederR.AmramGaonLindstedt1951/mode/2up
Hebrew: https://archive.org/details/sederravamramgaonparticriticaltextdavidhedegard1951/mode/2up
94 Tractate Berakoth, III, 49 a. For the text, D. H., p. 152.
+ See images below (from the above links) of the English and Hebrew texts of David Hedegård, Seder R. Amram Gaon, pp. 151–152, section LXXIX/(79)
95 Op. cit., pp. 237 ff. See also B. S. Childs, Memory and Tradition in Israel (Naperville, Ill., 1962).
96 Cf. J. H. Hertz, op. cit., p 148 and p. 972.
97 Cf. Max Thurian, The Eucharistic Memorial (Richmond, 1960–61), pp. 18 ff.
Louis Bouyer, Eucharist: Theology and Spirituality of the Eucharistic Prayer, trans. Charles Underhill Quinn (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1968), 84–86.
Every time Christians celebrate it [the Eucharist], as St. Paul says, they “announce” or “proclaim” this death, not first to the world, but to God, and the “recalling” of Christ’s death is for God the pledge of his fidelity in saving them.46
Footnotes
46 1 Corinthians 11:26.
Louis Bouyer, Eucharist: Theology and Spirituality of the Eucharistic Prayer, trans. Charles Underhill Quinn (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1968), 105.
Conversely, every time Christians eat together they can, via a shared loaf and cup, proclaim their shared fidelity to Jesus and bless and thank the Father for God's fidelity to them. I.e., every meal can be a Eucharist. (The significance of partaking from a single loaf and drinking from a common cup is addressed at length by O’Loughlin on pp. 159–176 of his book.) As O’Loughlin writes in his book:
The inappropriateness of a special ‘sacral meal’ category also clashes with a belief in the incarnation: if the Lord has come among us and shared in the ordinariness of our humanity, then every table must be capable of being a locus of divine encounter, and to designate the Lord’s table or the Lord’s supper as being in a wholly distinct class (however it might be perceived phenomenally by someone attending a Christian liturgy) is tantamount to adopting a functional docetism.
Thomas O’Loughlin, The Eucharist: Origins and Contemporary Understandings (London; New Delhi; New York; Sydney: Bloomsbury, 2015), 118.
- Using a silver cup: While silver has antimicrobial properties, there doesn’t appear to be any research supporting that using a silver cup has any significant germ-reduction effect.
- Using wine instead of grape juice: Wine does not have sufficient alcohol to reduce germs compared to grape juice. (The choice of whether to use wine or grape juice is a separate issue. There is evidence that some early Christian groups used water.)
- Intinction: Having people dip their piece of bread into the cup is likely worse, as hands often have more germs than mouths.
- Wiping and rotating: Having each person wipe the rim with a cloth after sipping and then rotating the rim so the next sip is taken from a different part of the cup (where it’s not warm from body heat, which is something that germs like) might reduce the already very slight chance of spreading infection. (E.g., you are far more likely to get something like COVID or even a cold from simply being in the room with an infected person than from sipping from the same cup they sip from.) This is how we did it at the Denton, Texas, home group mentioned earlier.
- Voluntary abstaining: You can ask that people who know they are sick or have a cold or a cold sore abstain from the cup when it’s passed to them.
Orr and Walther on I Corinthians
As Orr and Walther state in the lengthy extract below:
I have long thought that the belief that the bread and the wine of the Eucharist change or have to change into Christ’s body and blood—a foundational and non-negotiable doctrine of the Catholic and Orthodox Churches and their institutional priesthoods—might have been based on a gentile misunderstanding of Jewish practices and culture. In fact, questioning and then rejecting belief in the change or the need for the change was a major reason I left the Eastern Orthodox Church after three years. It was nice to find my hunch validated by these scholars.If (as it would appear) the mistake of the Corinthians was a gentile misinterpretation of essentially Jewish language and the controversies of the later church have been founded on a faulty translation of the first-generation Christian ideas rooted in Jewish social and religious experience, then Paul’s explanation of the Lord’s Supper furnishes no justification for the complicated eucharistic theologies that were developed.
Thank you Eric for this. This points to doing not only communion all wrong, but church all wrong. Well, not all wrong, but mostly wrong! To me the greatest error is the division in the body created by the various interpretations and developments--having the exact opposite result that the fellowship meal traditionally engendered. As well, instead of a concert/lecture as currently practiced, a largely informal meal that was the fellowship. Did it include teaching/preaching/prayer? I suspect so.
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