The Didache

Linked from The Lord’s Supper In The Church Meeting

The Didache

I - Cup and Bread 

Many or maybe most churches (Protestant, at least) conduct Communion by doing a recitation of Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 11:

1 Corinthians 11:23–26 (NRSVue): 23 For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, 24 and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” 25 In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” 26 For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.

with the members then eating their wafer or piece of bread and drinking their thimble or cup of juice or wine.

The Didache (Greek Διδαχή Didachē, pronounced dih-duh-khay or dih-duh-khee; full title (there are both short and [long] versions): Teaching of [the Lord through] the Twelve Apostles [to the Nations] Διδαχὴ [κυρίου διὰ] τῶν δώδεκα ἀποστόλων [τοῖς ἔθνεσιν] Didachē kyriou dia tōn dōdeka apostolōn tois ethnesin), which many scholars date to 80–110 CE, and some even as early as 50 CE, gives a different order of service for the Lord’s Supper than we read in the gospels and in 1 Corinthians, and its Eucharistic prayers seem to support the “do this for my memorial” aspect of Communion being a reminder to the Father rather than a personal or corporate reflecting on Jesus’s death.

Also note that whereas in 1 Corinthians 11 Paul says that Jesus’s giving thanks for the bread was at the beginning of the supper and his taking and sharing the cup was after the supper, the Didache has the thanksgiving for both the bread and the cup at the beginning of the supper, with the thanksgiving for the cup coming before that for the bread.

Chapter 9:

1 As for thanksgiving, give thanks this way.
2 First, with regard to the cup:
“We thank you, our Father,
For the holy vine of David your servant,
 which you made known to us
 through Jesus your servant.
To you be glory forever.”
3 And with regard to the *Bread:
“We thank you, our Father,
For the life and knowledge
 which you made known to us
 through Jesus your servant.
To you be glory forever.
4 As this < … > lay scattered upon the mountains
and became one when it had been gathered,
So may your church be gathered into your
 kingdom from the ends of the earth.
For glory and power are yours,
 through Jesus Christ, forever.”
5 Let no one eat or drink of your thanksgiving [meal] save those who have been baptized in the name of the Lord, since the Lord has said concerning this,
“Do not give what is holy to the dogs.”

Chapter 10: 

1 When you have had your fill, give thanks this way:
2 “We thank you, holy Father,
For your holy name,
 which you made dwell in our hearts,
And for the knowledge and faith and immortality,
 which you made known to us
 through Jesus your servant.
To you be glory forever.
3 You, almighty Lord, created all things for the
  sake of your name,
 and you gave food and drink to human
  beings for enjoyment,
 so that they would thank you;
But you graced us with spiritual food and
  drink and eternal life
 through <Jesus> your servant.
4 *For all things, we thank you, Lord, because
  you are powerful.
To you be glory forever.
5 Be mindful, Lord, of your church,
 to preserve it from all evil
 and to perfect it in your love.
And < … > gather it from the four winds,
 into the kingdom which you have prepared
  for it.
For power and glory are yours forever.
6 May grace come, and may this world pass by.
Hosanna to the God of David!
If anyone is holy, let him come.
If anyone is not, let him repent.
Maranatha! Amen.”

7 Allow the prophets, however, to give thanks as much as they like.

Kurt Niederwimmer and Harold W. Attridge, The Didache: A Commentary, Hermeneia—a Critical and Historical Commentary on the Bible (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1998), 144,155. * = Textual emendation by the author

The reference in the Didache 10:3 to “spiritual food and drink” echoes the words of Paul in 1 Corinthians 10:

1 Corinthians 10:1–4 (NRSVue) 1 I do not want you to be ignorant, brothers and sisters, that our ancestors were all under the cloud, and all passed through the sea, 2 and all were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea, 3 and all ate the same spiritual food, 4 and all drank the same spiritual drink. For they drank from the spiritual rock that followed them, and the rock was Christ.

though Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 10 for “food” and “drink” (βρῶμα brōma and πόμα poma, respectively) differ from those in the published editions of the Greek text of the Didache (τροφή trophē and ποτόν poton, respectively).

This may mean that they regarded the bread and [the drink in] the cup of these meals as being something different than ordinary food. On the other hand, the Didache seems to be contrasting the fellowship meal (introduced by giving thanks with the cup and the bread), and not the cup and the bread themselves, with the “spiritual food and drink and eternal life” we receive through Jesus.

Jesus had repeatedly said in John 6 that people were to come to him and believe in him, and in response to the disciples’ shock at being told to eat his flesh and drink his blood, Jesus explained:

John 6:63 (NRSVue) 63 “It is the spirit that gives life; the flesh is useless. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life.”

So an argument could be made (as many Protestants do) that “eat[ing his] flesh” and “drink[ing his] blood” is about coming to Jesus and believing in him, and not about eating his real flesh and drinking his real blood in the more literal sense that the Roman Catholic and [Eastern] Orthodox Churches teach and confess. With this understanding the bread and wine of the Lord’s Supper don't become or need to become anything other than the ordinary bread and wine that they are, as “spiritual food and drink and eternal life” are about and are obtained by coming to Jesus (and hence to the Father through him) and believing in him, and not by eating the bread and drinking the cup.

II - Sacrifice

Chapter 14 of the Didache reads:

Chapter 14

1 Assembling on every Sunday of the Lord, break bread and give thanks, confessing your faults beforehand, so that your sacrifice may be pure.

2 Let no one engaged in a dispute with his comrade join you until they have been reconciled, lest your sacrifice be profaned.

3 This is [the meaning] of what was said by the Lord: “‘to offer me a pure sacrifice in every place and time, because I am a great king,’ says the Lord, ‘and my name is held in wonder among the nations.’”

[ Translation supplement

] Translation supplement

Kurt Niederwimmer and Harold W. Attridge, The Didache: A Commentary, Hermeneia—a Critical and Historical Commentary on the Bible (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1998), 194.

I wrote in The Lord’s Supper In The Church Meeting:

The church also began treating the Eucharist as being sacramental, including regarding the bread and wine as being or becoming Christ’s real body and blood. In conjunction with or subsequent to that, a hierarchical priesthood arose or was instituted in order to offer the bread and wine as sacrifices,... 

Though it is commonly held that “your sacrifice” in the Didache 14:1,2 refers to the offering of the bread and wine of the Eucharist, I suggest that the shared meal and offered prayers and worship of the believers is the sacrifice. As Paul exhorts in Romans 12:1: “I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, on the basis of God’s mercy, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your reasonable act of worship.” And Peter writes in 1 Peter 2:5: “[L]ike living stones let yourselves be built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.” (NRSVue).

Niederwimmer and Attridge explain:

What is meant by θυσία, the sacrifice to be presented at the meal?¹⁸ It seems tempting to understand θυσία to refer to the sacred action of the eucharistic celebration,¹⁹ or more precisely to associate it with the eucharistic elements (as, e.g., Justin does in Dial. 41.3 [Goodspeed, 138]).²⁰ In that case Did. 14.1–3²¹ would represent the oldest explicit instance of the understanding of the Lord’s Supper as a sacrifice.²² This interpretation, however, is uncertain. The context permits still another possibility: that θυσία refers in a special sense to εὐχαριστήσατε. The sacrifice that is spoken of so often here would then be the eucharistic prayer offered by the congregation.²³ It is stained if guilty persons speak it, but it is pure if their guilt is removed. But is this alternative a justifiable interpretation of the Didache text? No matter how unsatisfying it may appear to a later, more reflective consciousness, one cannot exclude the possibility that these alternatives are utterly foreign to the state of mind reflected in the text (and other, similar texts); that is, the tradition that comes to light here associates the sacred meal with the idea of sacrifice in the most general way, without making detailed specifications about what precisely is to be understood by “sacrifice” in this instance.²⁴ That seems to be the most appropriate understanding of the Didache text. In any case, it is true that participation in the θυσία demands moral purity as ritual purity—and the prior purification by exhomologesis is intended in that sense.

Footnotes

¹⁸ “During the first three centuries the Eucharist was understood in a threefold way as sacrifice. The sacrifice presented to God is, first of all, the prayers, second, the bread and wine, … third, the sacred action at the altar itself as analogue to the sacrifice of the death of Christ” (Lietzmann, Mass, 68).

¹⁹ E.g., Harnack, “Prolegomena” 139; Knopf, Lehre, 36: “θυσία: the Eucharist as sacrifice”; Lietzmann, Mass, 193; Drews, “Apostellehre” 279: θυσία refers to the Lord’s Supper, not merely the prayers, as sacrifice. The proof of this is said to be the Malachi quotation that follows; see Koester, Synoptische Überlieferung, 214–15.

²⁰ Περὶ δὲ τῶν ἐν παντὶ τόπῳ ὑφʼ ἡμῶν τῶν ἐθνῶν προσφερομένων αὐτῷ θυσιῶν, τοῦτʼ ἔστι τοῦ ἄρτου τῆς εὐχαριστίας καὶ τοῦ ποτηρίου ὁμοίως τῆς εὐχαριστίας, προλέγει [sc. the prophet Malachi, 1:10–11] τότε (“concerning the sacrifices offered to him by us, the nations, in every place, that is, the bread of the Eucharist and, likewise, the cup of the Eucharist”). Justin, however, is also acquainted with the other idea according to which the eucharistic prayers are a sacrifice to God: Dial. 117.1 (Goodspeed, 234).

²¹ The term θυσία is used three times (the third in the quotation from Malachi).

²² 1 Clem. 44.4 may be considered older, but the meaning of the phrase δῶρα τῆς ἐπισκοπῆς there is uncertain. Otherwise one must obviously distinguish between the explicit examples and the idea itself; the latter can be older than the former. Thus, e.g., it seems to me that 1 Cor 10:16–22 implicitly presupposes the idea of the Eucharist as sacrifice.

²³ Thus, e.g., Harris (Teaching, 106), with reference to the quotation in Ps.-Cyprian De aleat. 4 (CSEL 3.3.96): ne inquinetur et inpediatur oratio vestra (“lest your prayer be troubled and impeded”); Johannes Behm, “θύω,” TDNT 3 (1967) 189–90 (cautiously). Wengst thinks that θυσία probably means first of all the prayers spoken by the congregation and second, in a broader sense, “the congregation itself as those who celebrate” (Didache, 55).

²⁴ It seems to me that the statements of Audet (Didachè, 462–63) tend in the same direction, as do especially those of Vööbus, Liturgical Traditions 107: “According to all the canons of typology, this [the reference of the word θυσία to the Eucharist] is the answer which must be given. However, for the sake of circumspection, the question should be raised whether the same notion also covered prayer, thanksgiving, hymns, in one word, all the acts of worship. There are reasons for thinking that the line between these acts and the εὐχαριστία as ‘sacrifice’ par excellence was not yet sharply drawn.” Vööbus adds (pp. 107–8) that θυσία here does not yet have the usual meaning of propitiation for sins. Cf. also Frank, “Maleachi 1, 10ff.” 72: “It is impossible on the basis of the text to attempt to define the precise referent of ‘sacrifice,’ whether the congregation’s prayer of thanksgiving or the breaking of bread. All that is permitted us is the conclusion that the whole action of the congregation on Sunday is understood as a sacrifice before God.” According to Moll (Opfer, 110) θυσία refers to “the whole action”; 115: “the sacrificial gifts in particular,” or rather “the … eucharistic prayer of thanksgiving spoken over the bread, which remains symbolically attached to the sacrificial gifts.”

Justin Justin Martyr
Dial. Dialogue with Trypho
Did. Didache

Kurt Niederwimmer and Harold W. Attridge, The Didache: A Commentary, Hermeneia—a Critical and Historical Commentary on the Bible (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1998), 196–197.

III - Eucharist and Meal

I earlier mentioned that scholars debate when the church began separating the Eucharist from the fellowship meal. The Didache complicates the issue, and Niederwimmer and Attridge discuss how scholars have tried to explain the Didache’s structure in relation to this debate:

3. After the introductory liturgical formula περὶ δὲ τῆς εὐχαριστίας (“As for the thanksgiving”), the reader of a later era expects to find directions for the sacrament of the Eucharist, and that expectation is heightened by the context. Chap. 7 described baptism, and chaps. 9–10 are to deal with the Lord’s Supper. But what emerges in chaps. 9–10 is surprising in a number of ways. The sequence of elements appears to be reversed. The liturgical directions begin with the prayer of blessing over the wine (9.2), and only then follows the blessing of the bread (9.3–4).⁹ Still more striking is that the words of institution are absent; it is also questionable whether the prayers of blessing contain any reference at all to the kerygma of the passion.¹⁰ In addition, the expression in 10.1 (μετὰ δὲ τὸ ἐμπλησθῆναι) implies a full meal. Under these circumstances the question arises whether chaps. 9–10 really deal with the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper. This has been one of the crucial problems in Didache research from the outset.

4. What kind of meal is this, then?

a. Among those who considered it to be eucharistic are Harnack,¹¹ Völker,¹² Greiff,¹³ Middleton,¹⁴ Creed,¹⁵ Richardson,¹⁶ Bosio,¹⁷ Glover,¹⁸ and Kraft.¹⁹ There is an especially interesting variant in the work of Hans Lietzmann.²⁰ In his interpretation this is “an agape introduced by a eucharistic celebration.”²¹ Did. 9.1–5 describes the eucharistic celebration, and this was followed by an agape, which was a complete meal (between chaps. 9 and 10). The agape meal was then in turn followed by the prayers of thanksgiving in 10.1–6; the text in 10.6 (part of the eucharistic liturgy) is misplaced.²² This description played a particular role within the framework of Lietzmann’s conception of the twofold origins of the Eucharist.

b. Among those who considered this meal an agape were F. Kattenbusch,²³ Connolly,²⁴ Vokes,²⁵ Dix,²⁶ Adam,²⁷ and Gero.²⁸

c. Drews had his own solution to the problem: the meal prayers in chaps. 9–10 are said to refer to “a Lord’s Supper celebrated in the form of a unified, complete community meal,” while chap. 14 describes the official Sunday Eucharist of the local community, led by a bishop.²⁹ Knopf’s judgment was similar. He wrote of the prayers in chaps. 9–10, “What we have here is a celebration in a smaller group where there is still a genuine meal (10.1), whereas [chap.] 14 refers to the celebration of the whole community, on Sunday, without a meal: the Mass with the consumption of the sacrament alone, as in Justin 1 Apol. 67.”³⁰

d. The opinion that the prayers in chaps. 9–10 are agape prayers followed by the Eucharist in 10.6 has been widely adopted.³¹ The most important arguments for this idea are found first in the work of Zahn³² and later   p 142  in that of Arthur Darby Nock,³³ August Arnold,³⁴ Martin Dibelius,³⁵ and others. Agape prayers (or table prayers for the community meal) followed by the Lord’s Supper are also suggested by, among others, Bultmann³⁶ and Jeremias,³⁷ and with caution by Stuiber,³⁸ Vielhauer,³⁹ and (again cautiously) now Rordorf and Tuilier as well.⁴⁰

e. Audet produced a remarkable variant on this model.⁴¹

f. Vööbus completed a thorough investigation⁴² in which he again spoke in favor of interpreting this as a eucharistic celebration. Chaps. 9–10 are eucharistic prayers, and the fact that the meal is a full-course dinner need not disturb us because Eucharist and agape had not yet been separated. Finally, Johannes Betz, adopting and correcting an idea of Peterson,⁴³ advocated the idea that the table prayers in the Didache were originally eucharistic prayers, but the redactor of the document has made them agape prayers.⁴⁴

g. Most recently Wengst has defended the idea that chaps. 9–10 depict nothing but a full-course meal.⁴⁵ It bears the name εὐχαριστία, but it has nothing to do with the Christian Lord’s Supper. The celebration spoken of in chaps. 9–10 is purely a meal for the satisfaction of hunger, and nothing else.⁴⁶

5. It seems to me that if we are to reach a conclusion in this matter we must begin with Did. 10.6, a text that must be placed before the sacramental Communion.⁴⁷ This means that the Eucharist in our sense, that is, the sacramental Lord’s Supper, must begin after chap. 10. It is characteristic that Lietzmann, who defended a different position, raised objections to the placement of 10.6.⁴⁸ If we allow the text to stand as it has been handed down we have scarcely any other choice but to suppose that 10.6 is the invitation to the Lord’s Supper, which follows immediately thereafter. In that case, however, the meal envisioned in Did. 10.1 cannot be a Eucharist in the sacramental sense, but only a community meal. This is indicated also by ἐμπλησθῆναι, if we do not attempt to interpret it artificially against its context.⁴⁹ In that case the difficulty otherwise produced by the “reversed” sequence of wine and bread in 9.2–4 disappears. If we are to suppose that the sacramental meal follows after Did. 10.6 it seems plausible (with Rordorf)⁵⁰ to understand the prayer of thanksgiving in 10.2–6 as also a kind of “preface” preceding the sacrament to follow; the text itself, in its individual phrases, favors this interpretation.

Thus we find the following progression of the liturgy: community meal (“agape”?) as meal for satisfaction of hunger, introduced in each part (9.2–4) by short blessings of wine and bread (in which the formularies point to Jewish blessings of wine and bread as models); after the full meal (10.1) follows the prayer of thanksgiving (modeled on the Jewish prayer after meals, but strongly Christianized), which at the same time introduces the celebration of the Lord’s Supper (10.2–5); this prayer in turn is followed by the invitation (10.6) and then (or after the free prayers of the prophets: 10.7) the Lord’s Supper itself.

Two major objections may be raised against this interpretation. First, the rubric in Did. 9.1 speaks expressly of εὐχαριστία. If we are to maintain the position just enunciated we must suppose that εὐχαριστία here does not have the ordinary, sacramental sense, but describes the nonsacramental community meal. This would be a singular but early usage of the word, not yet restricted to the sacrament. Correspondingly, εὐχαριστεῖν in 9.1 and 10.1 would mean the speaking of the prayers of blessing that are to be offered at the community celebration.⁵¹ These propositions would be in harmony with the archaic character of the liturgy given here.

A second difficulty results from the absence of the words of institution. If, understandably enough, one is not satisfied with Bultmann’s solution (the liturgy of the Lord’s Supper “[did] not need to be set down because it [was] familiar to all”),⁵² one might be tempted to suppose that there is a deliberate suppression of the words of institution, in order not to profane them.⁵³ This supposition is awkward, however, because there is no evidence at this early period for the so-called arcane discipline.⁵⁴ Thus there remains an unresolved problem at this point.

Footnotes

⁹ 1 Cor 10:16–17 is not a parallel. Klauck, Herrenmahl 262: “the cup-bread sequence does not indicate a different liturgical praxis, … but rests on a reversal by Paul (as in v. 21).”

¹⁰ This is asserted by Sandvik, Kommen des Herrn 59–60; “life” in Did. 9.3; 10.2–3 is said to refer to the resurrection and “servant” to Jesus’ suffering. There would thus, in fact, be an anamnesis of Jesus’ passion, “but here the accent is on his resurrection, not on his death” (p. 60).

¹¹ Harnack, Lehre, 28–36; idem, “Prolegomena,” 58–60. Harnack thought that the Eucharist was celebrated as part of the agape (Lehre, 28), as “a genuine meal” (Apostellehre, 3). Cf. also “Prolegomena,” 60: “This complete obscuring of the death of Christ and the forgiveness of sins is characteristic of the postapostolic or, better, the non-Pauline origin of the prayers.”

¹² Karl Völker, Mysterium und Agape: Die gemeinsamen Mahlzeiten in der Alten Kirche (Gotha: Klotz, 1927) 105–7, 126–28, and passim.

¹³ Pascharituale, 109–11, and passim.

¹⁴ “Eucharistic Prayers,” 259–61.

¹⁵ Didache, 374, 386–87.

¹⁶ “Teaching of the Twelve Apostles,” 165–66: “a period when the Lord’s Supper was still a real supper, and when the joyful and expectant note of the Messianic Banquet had not yet been obscured by the more solemn emphasis on the Lord’s Passion” (p. 166).

¹⁷ Padri apostolici, 1.21.

¹⁸ “Quotations,” 26–27.

¹⁹ Kraft (Didache, 168) thinks of an “annual Baptism-Eucharist-service” as the Sitz im Leben for chaps. 9–10.

²⁰ Mass, 188–94, at 189–90.

²¹ Lietzmann, Mass, 190.

²² Lietzmann, Mass, 192–93.

²³ “Messe, I: Dogmengeschichtlich,” RE³, 12.671.

²⁴ Richard H. Connolly, “Agape and Eucharist in the Didache,” DRev 55 (1937) 477–89.

²⁵ Riddle, 197–207.

²⁶ The Shape of the Liturgy (repr. of 2d ed.; London: Black, 1970; New York: Seabury, 1982) 90.

²⁷ “Herkunft,” 32–33 (combined with certain remarks on the myron prayer: see below).

²⁸ Gero, “Ointment Prayer” 82; for his remarks in this connection regarding the myron prayer, see below.

²⁹ “Untersuchungen,” 74–79, esp. 78–79 (quotation on p. 79).

³⁰ Knopf, Lehre, 24. Cf. Klein, “Gebete,” 144–45: the meal in chap. 9 is a festive Sabbath meal held in the evening, at the beginning of the Sabbath (perhaps also a baptismal meal occasioned by the baptisms performed on Friday evening). On the Sabbath the community celebrates a festive, full-course meal, and on the Lord’s day (chap. 14) the Eucharist.

³¹ For the sequence of the two celebrations the following variants have been proposed:

    • Originally, the full meal could have been inserted in the sacramental celebration (cf. “after dining,” μετὰ τὸ δειπνῆσαι in 1 Cor 11:25), so that the sequence would have been: eucharistic bread, full meal, eucharistic wine.
    • At an early date the full meal was transferred to the beginning of the celebration (as it appears in the Didache), so that the sequence “agape”—Eucharist resulted. Cf. also Ep. apost. 15, Ethiopic (NTApoc, 1.257–58).
    • The reverse sequence (Eucharist—agape) is attested in the Didache, according to Lietzmann.
    • Finally, there is also early evidence of the separation of Eucharist and agape.

³² Kanon, 3.293–98. The prayers in chap. 9 are agape prayers. “The prayers in Doctr. 10 constitute the transition from the agape to the sacrament proper” (p. 296).

³³ “Liturgical Notes,” 390–91.

³⁴ Der Ursprung des christlichen Abendmahls im Lichte der neuesten liturgiegeschichtlichen Forschung (2d ed.; FThSt 45; Freiburg im Breisgau: Herder, 1939) 26–31.

³⁵ “Mahl-Gebete,” 126–27: “the special sacred action, whatever its makeup, did not occur between 9 and 10, but after 10.6. Between 9 and 10 is only the meal proper” (p. 126). He then says (p. 127) that the sacred action following 10.6 is the Eucharist.

³⁶ Theology of the New Testament (trans. Kendrick Grobel; 2 vols.; New York: Scribner’s, 1951–55) 1.151: “It does appear to be true that the words of 10:6 are to be understood as a transition to the sacramental Eucharist, the liturgy of which does not need to be set down because it was familiar to all. But then it is clear that two celebrations of entirely different kind have been secondarily combined. Therefore, the celebration implied in Did. 9 and 10 existed at first by itself, and it must have been from it that the Lord’s Supper took over the title ‘Eucharist’ (‘Thanksgiving’), which is a very strange term for the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper.”

³⁷ Eucharistic Words, 117–18, 134.

³⁸ “Eulogia,” 914; cf. also 919.

³⁹ Geschichte, 38–39.

⁴⁰ Rordorf and Tuilier, Doctrine, 40–41. Cf. also Rordorf, “Didachè,” 15–16; Moll, Opfer 106–15.

⁴¹ Audet, Didachè 372–77. At 405–7 he distinguishes between the “breaking of the bread” (which, however, is not to be understood as an agape) and the Eucharist itself (which follows chap. 10). The whole celebration is a vigil. It is introduced by the breaking of bread. Did. 10.6 is the transitional formula: the baptized move to another room for the Eucharist proper, the “great ‘eucharist.’”

⁴² Liturgical Traditions, 63–74.

⁴³ Peterson, “Probleme” 168–71. Behind the prayers in chaps. 9–10 of the Bryennios text are remnants of ancient eucharistic prayers of the Egyptian church, or a church prayer (in chap. 10). For the Novatianist (?) redactor of the document responsible for the the Bryennios version, these prayers have been devalued and (in chap. 10) abbreviated to table prayers for ascetic circles.

⁴⁴ So Betz, “Eucharist” 251–53. Betz counts Did. 9.2–4; (9.5); 10.2, 3b–5 among the ancient parts. The blessing of the cup (9.2) has been shifted by the redactor; 10.3a is a later addition by the redactor, and 10.1 is also redactional. Klauck (Herrenmahl, 263) uses the same explanation as Betz and sees the table prayers as reflecting the influence of the Hellenistic synagogue, as does Dibelius (see below).

⁴⁵ Wengst, Didache, 43–56. Bread and wine are sufficient for the satisfaction of hunger. “From the fact that this eucharist had the character of a full meal we may by no means conclude that the meal consisted of anything more than, or different from, bread and wine. Bread was the food for satisfaction of hunger” (p. 45).

⁴⁶ Of course, in that case, Did. 10.6 creates difficulties. Wengst admits (Didache, 46) that “originally” (as he says) this was “a fragment of a Lord’s Supper liturgy.” But the text in its present context has lost that function. In that case, however, how did this liturgical text come to be placed at the end of the prayer of thanksgiving? This “may be because of its eschatological orientation” (p. 47).

⁴⁷ Vööbus’s attempt (Liturgical Traditions, 70–74) to show that Did. 10.6 is redactional (p. 73), and in fact “a general admonition and warning to the readers of the manual reminding them of the demand for purity as a requirement of preparedness” (p. 74), is not persuasive.

⁴⁸ See p. 141 above.

⁴⁹ Ἐμπλησθῆναι can be understood metaphorically; cf. Rom 15:24 and the linguistic parallels for that verse in BAGD. Thus Karl Völker (Mysterium und Agape: Die gemeinsamen Mahlzeiten in der Alten Kirche [Gotha: Klotz, 1927] 107) thought of a spiritual satisfaction in Did. 10.1. But even Zahn (Kanon, 3.293) wrote, “Here, however, it is a matter of eating bread and drinking wine, and hence ἐμπλησθῆναι is to be understood as the satisfaction of hunger and thirst.” Cf. also the analogous μετὰ τὸ δειπνῆσαι in 1 Cor 11:25, and the replacement of the didachistic ἐμπλησθῆναι by μετὰ δὲ τὴν μετάληψιν in Const. 7.26.1 (because there, in Constitutions, the author is thinking not of a full meal but of the sacrament).

⁵⁰ “Didachè,” 18. Cf., however, Arthur Darby Nock, “Liturgical Notes,” JTS 30 (1929) 391; and Stuiber, “Eulogia” 912: “The participants in the meal are invited to the prayer after the meal in a special address concluding, simultaneously, the eating, drinking, and table conversation. This invitation and the prayer after the meal that follows provided the formal basis for the later Christian eucharistic prayer.”

⁵¹ I believe that the redactor’s usage was already different, i.e., more advanced. The term εὐχαριστία in 9.5 (redactional) could already include the Lord’s Supper. Something analogous is then true of εὐχαριστεῖν in 10.7 and 14.1.

⁵² Theology of the New Testament, 1.151.

⁵³ This is suggested by Rordorf and Tuilier, Doctrine, 40 n. 2. One should compare Jeremias, Eucharistic Words, 132–37.

⁵⁴ “To this time there is not a single secure proof of the existence of a Christian ‘arcane discipline’ in the first two centuries,” Otto Perler, “Arkandisziplin,” RAC 1 (1950) 671.

Did. Didache
Justin Justin Martyr
1 Apol. First Apology

Kurt Niederwimmer and Harold W. Attridge, The Didache: A Commentary, Hermeneia—a Critical and Historical Commentary on the Bible (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1998), 140–143.

IV - Jewish Roots

Louis Bouyer writes this about the Didache and Jewish prayers:

THE FIRST EUCHARISTIC LITURGIES: THE DIDACHE

Yet it still seems that it is the Didache which has preserved for us the most ancient example of these formulations of the eucharist where the Church, like Christ at the last Supper, still used the Jewish formulas, merely giving a new sense to their expressions with the help of a few insertions.

We need not argue at this point about the origin of the Didache, which has been placed either at the very beginning of the Church or else after the year 180 at the time of the Montanist crisis.⁶⁵

Let us say once again—and this will not be the last time—that the date and the origin of a liturgical prayer must not be confused with that of the collections in which it is found. What now interests us in the Didache for our study is only the prayers themselves. That these are of Jewish origin, as Dibelius was the first modern scholar to acknowledge,⁶⁶ is obvious once we connect them with the traditional Jewish meal prayers. We must even go further than Dibelius who thought that he had found here a prayer of hellenistic Jews. Let us recall that the Synagogue of Dura-Europos has given us a fragment of papyrus where we read a Hebrew prayer which is the central element of the berakah of the Didache.⁶⁷

But in the Didache, it is clear that the prayer used by the Christians has undergone a few additions, not without some awkwardness, which are intended to specify the renewed sense given to it.

Concerning the Eucharist, give thanks in this way.
First for the cup;
‘We give thanks to thee, our Father, for the holy vine of David thy servant, which thou madest known to us through thy servant (παῖς) Jesus.
To thee be the glory for ever.’
And for the broken bread;
‘We give thanks to thee, our Father, for the life and knowledge, which thou madest known to us through thy servant Jesus.
To thee be the glory for ever.’
As this broken bread was scattered upon the hills, and was gathered together and made one, so let thy Church be gathered together into thy kingdom from the ends of the earth; for thine is the glory and the power through Christ Jesus for ever. ‘… And after ye are filled, give thanks thus:
‘We give thee thanks, Holy Father, for thy holy name, which thou hast made to tabernacle in our hearts, and for the knowledge, faith and immortality which thou hast made known to us through thy servant Jesus.
To thee be the glory for ever.
Thou, Lord Almighty, didst create all things for thy name’s sake, and gavest food and drink to men for their enjoyment, that they might give thee thanks; and to us thou didst grant spiritual food and drink and life eternal, through thy servant.
Above all we thank thee that thou art mighty.
To thee be glory for ever.
Remember, Lord, thy Church, to deliver her from all evil and to make her perfect in thy love, and to gather from the four winds her that is sanctified into thy kingdom which thou didst prepare for her; for thine is the power and the glory for ever.
Let grace come, and let this world pass away.
Hosanna to the God of David.
If any is holy, let him come:
if any is not holy, let him repent.
Maran atha.
Amen.’⁶⁸

We have italicized the obviously Christian additions. Their small number and their laconicism will be noted. It will also be noted that we have not italicized the mentions of the Church. The rediscovered Hebrew text shows that ἐκκλησία in our text simply corresponds to the Hebrew qahal, which for the first composers and users of the prayer simply designated the expected foregathering of the diaspora of Israel.

Arguments are still in vogue among Christian critics, who are ignorant (willingly or no) of the parallel Jewish texts, about whether we have here a eucharistic prayer in the strict sense or a prayer for the agape meal which they suppose to have already been separated from the eucharist, or again two groups of texts to be used in different celebrations. They are rendered useless once we are aware of the Jewish parallels. The whole is in continuity, and follows the traditional succession of the meal berakoth (blessing over the initial cup, blessing over the broken bread, threefold blessing over the last cup). But, in their final state, they obviously apply to a sacred meal of a Christian community that is still very close to Judaism, and it could only be its eucharist. It can be all the better understood that the Christians kept the Jewish prayers practically intact since this form of those prayers certainly represented a special form of them proper to the communities dominated by the expectation of the Messiah. What particular community was its author? This is undoubtedly an unanswerable question. But from these texts we can get some idea of what must have been done with the traditional Jewish prayers, before the first Christians, by Jews such as those from Qumrân or the Zadokite community of Damascus.

The mention of the hills where wheat was scattered indicates a Palestinian origin, or at least a Syrian one. The connection between life and knowledge, and even the mention of the spiritual food and drink, can belong just as well to this messianic Judaism as to primitive Christianity, like the insistence on the revealed divine Name and even the title “our Father” given to God. But for Christians all of this was so easily charged with a more precise content that they could hardly have felt the need at the moment to say anything more. Jesus, as Daniélou has so well shown, was this revealed divine Name for them,⁶⁹ just as he was spiritual food and drink as well as life and knowledge, which were found in faith in him and procured immortality through participation in his resurrection.

Up to the final invocation (“Let grace come, and let this world pass away”) there is nothing which may not have been Jewish before being taken over by the Christians. On the other hand, “Hosanna to the God of David” seems a cryptic expression, typical of primitive Christianity, of belief in the divinity of Jesus. It seems to be an echo, by its correction of the formula repeated by the gospels: “Hosanna to the son of David,” of the discussion Jesus had with the scribes about the 110th Psalm.⁷⁰

The following words are an invitation to communion which seems to be the most ancient expression that we have of the need for penance on the part of Christians who wish to approach the holy table after having sinned. But we might also wonder if the disciples of the Baptist, for example, could not have used them as well.

Maran atha, the expression of the expectation of the parousia, which St. Paul has preserved for us,⁷¹ confirms what he himself has allowed us to see of the eschatological orientation of these first Christian eucharists, where they “proclaimed” the death of the Lord, “until he comes.” As many an appearance of the risen Lord must have been in relation to the first celebrations, they were done in the expectation of his return. But we may indeed wonder, particularly if we consider that the entreaty for the coming of the Messiah was already, at least on feast days, to be found at the conclusion of the Jewish berakah over the cup, whether the formula Maran atha itself was not borrowed by the first Christians from other earlier groups of pious Jews.

Footnotes

⁶⁵ Cf. Audet, La Didachè (Paris, 1958).

⁶⁶ Cf. Audet, op. cit.

⁶⁷ Cf. above, p. 27.

⁶⁸ Didachè, 9 and 10. For the translation, cf. Henry Bettinson, Documents of the Christian Church (London, 1959), pp. 90 ff.

⁶⁹ J. Daniélou, The Theology of Jewish Christianity (Chicago, 1964) p. 189 ff.

⁷⁰ Matthew 22:41–45 and parallels.

⁷¹ 1 Corinthians 16:22.

Louis Bouyer, Eucharist: Theology and Spirituality of the Eucharistic Prayer, trans. Charles Underhill Quinn (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1968), 115–119.

Joachim Jeremias On The Memorial Formula

Linked from The Lord’s Supper In The Church Meeting

Joachim Jeremias on the Memorial Formula

(from The Eucharistic Words of Jesus by Joachim Jeremias)

(b) Palestinian memorial formulae

Quite a different picture is to be seen when we turn to the realm of Palestinian Judaism.

1. In Palestine memorial formulae are very common in religious language.

We find them first in connection with the cult. That part of the cereal offering which was burnt is called already in the Old Testament azkarah, LXX, μνημόσυνον (‘memorial [portion]’, Lev. 2:2, 9, 16 etc.); the frankincense which is put with the shewbread is said to serve leazkarah, LXX, εἰς ἀνάμνησιν (‘as a memorial [portion]’, Lev. 24:7); the blowing of the trumpets by the priests over the burnt-offerings and the peace-offerings is to serve lezikkaron liphne elohekem, LXX, ἀνάμνησις ἔναντι τοῦ θεοῦ ὑμῶν (‘for remembrance before your God’, Num. 10:10), i.e. to insure that God remembers mercifully the givers of the sacrifices. God’s merciful remembrance is similarly insured by the stones set in Aaron’s breastplate, which bear the names of the twelve tribes lezikkaron (‘for [continual] remembrance’, Ex. 28:12, 29; 39:7), and by the atonement money which brings the people lezikkaron liphne Yhwh (‘to remembrance before the Lord’, 30:16). The twelve precious stones which Jael will put above the cherubim, erunt in conspectu meo (God’s) in memoria (A: in memoriam) domui (A: domus) Israel.¹ Examples of the use of the construction μνημόσυνον in relation to the cult (bells and precious stones in Aaron’s breastplate, incense, the sound of trumpets) are to be found in Ecclesiasticus (45:9, 11, 16; 50:16) and will be discussed below.²

Related to the temple and synogogue (sic) cult are the donation formulae, which are also concerned with remembrance.³ The oldest is to be found in Zech. 6:14, where it is said that a crown should be deposited in the temple of Jahweh to the merciful remembrance (leḥen … lezikkaron) of certain individuals,⁴ i.e. to ensure God’s merciful remembrance. Numerous later examples have been found in synagogue donors’ inscriptions, which mostly begin with the phrase dkyr lṭb in which the passive is circumlocution of the divine name, therefore: ‘God remember so and so mercifully’.¹ In the donor’s inscription in the synagogue at Jericho this phrase is explicated by the additional sentence: ‘He who knows their names and (the names) of their children and (the names) of the people of their households, shall write them in the Book of Life (together with) the Just.’² E. R. Goodenough has shown that the conclusion to be drawn from this is that the donor’s inscription is eschatologically oriented; the prayer is that God’s remembrance may be realized through the acceptance of the donor in the Book of Life.³

Next, memorial formulae are to be found in the liturgy and in prayers. Among the special prayers (musaph prayers) of the New Year festival are the malkiyyot, zikronot and šopharot. The zikronot⁴ are prayers which enclose biblical passages concerned with ‘remembrance’, exclusively with God’s merciful remembrance of his covenant promises in the past and in the future. The closing prayer of the zikronot ends with the doxology: ‘Praised be thou, O Lord, that rememberest the covenant (zoker habberit).’ Already in the Old Testament it is said that the passover is to be celebrated lezikkaron (Ex. 12:14; Targ. Jer. 1, Onḳ. ldwkrn’). In the blessings for Sabbath, festivals and the new moon God is praised as the one who has given Sabbaths, festivals and new moons lezikkaron (b. Ber. 49a). It is said explicitly of prayers that they are raised εἰς μνημόσυνον (I Enoch 99.3), that they, together with alms, have ascended ‘as a memorial before God’ (Acts 10:4), that they are lzkrwn (1QS 10.5). An especially important example of an ancient prayer for God’s remembrance is the liturgical prayer quoted below, p. 252.

Further, the memorial formula is to be found in ritual language. The pharisaic custom of wearing prayer phylacteries on the head, which can be traced back to pre-Christian times in Palestine,⁵ is dependent upon the (literally interpreted) commandment Ex. 13:9: ‘And it shall be to you … lezikkaron (Targ. Jer. 1, Onḳ. ldwkrn) between your eyes.’

Finally, there are the Jewish tomb inscriptions in which is to be found both in Hebrew⁶ and Greek⁷—with many variations—the formula from Prov. 10:7, ‘the memory of the righteous is a blessing’. This biblical text was differently understood in hellenistic and Palestinian Judaism. In hellenistic Judaism it was interpreted, as the multilingual tomb inscriptions show, as referring to the good memories which the deceased left behind among his contemporaries. In Palestinian Judaism, on the other hand, it was understood as a wish (‘may the memory of the righteous be a blessing’) relating to the merciful remembrance of God. We can see that from, among other things, the formula of blessing to be used of a father who had been dead for more than a year: zkrwnw lbrkh lḥyy hʿwlm hb’, ‘His memory be for a blessing, (namely) for the life of the world to come’.¹ In this context also we find the εἰς-formula: LXX, Ps. 111 (112):6, εἰς μνημόσυνον αἰώνιον ἔσται δίκαιος, ‘the righteous will be for eternal remembrance’; Targ. Ps. 112:6, ldkrn ‘Im yhy zky.

2. For our question it is especially important to notice that the command for repetition εἰς ἀνάμνησιν, which we sought in vain in the hellenistic records of the institution of commemorative meals, is not only to be found in the language usage of Greek-speaking Judaism but is also—when we consider the parallel phrases εἰς μνημόσυνον and in memoriam as well as the Hebrew² and Aramaic³ equivalents—to be found with what may be described as extraordinary frequency in late Judaism as a whole. The review which we have just given shows that the formula is found several times already in the Old Testament and that it is used frequently in the Judaism of New Testament times. We find it in Ecclesiasticus, in the Wisdom of Solomon, in I Enoch, in the Essene literature, in Pseudo-Philo and in the rabbinical literature.

In the LXX we notice immediately a significant fact: whereas εἰς ἀνάμνησιν is used in the Wisdom of Solomon, a book composed in Greek, of men remembering the commandments of God (16:6), in Lev. 24:7 LXX it is used meaning ‘that God may mercifully remember’.⁴ It has the same meaning in the remaining two places in which it is found in the LXX: Ps. 69(70):1f., τῷ Δαυιδ. Εἰς ἀνάμνησιν, εἰς τὸ σῶσαί με κύριον (note the explanatory addition of the infinitive), and similarly Ps. 37 (38):1. The same is true of the parallel εἰς μνημόσυνον. Occasionally it is used in the LXX of human remembering, although almost only in the more profane context of things being written down in a book εἰς μνημόσυνον (so several times in the book of Esther).¹ In religious or cultic contexts, on the other hand, εἰς μνημόσυνον regularly² has God as the subject. Such is the case throughout Ecclesiasticus. We read that Aaron had bells on his garments εἰς μνημόσυνον υἱοῖς λαοῦ αὐτοῦ, ‘that God might remember mercifully the children of his people’ (45:9), the stones on his garment were inscribed εἰς μνημόσυνον (45:11), he offered incense and fragrance εἰς μνημόσυνον (45:16), and the priests sounded the trumpets εἰς μνημόσυνον ἔναντι ὑψίστου (50:16). Further examples of the use of εἰς μνημόσυνον in New Testament times have been found in the fragments of the Greek text of I Enoch.³ Following a series of woes over sinners it says: ‘Then make ready, you righteous, and offer your prayers εἰς μνημόσυνον; place them as a testimony before the angels, that they may bring the sins of the unrighteous before the most high God εἰς μνημόσυνον’ (99.3); again it is the merciful and punishing remembrance of God that is meant by εἰς μνημόσυνον, and μνημόσυνον has the same meaning in the two other places at which it is to be found in these fragments (97.7; 103.4).

To summarize: the formula εἰς ἀνάμνησιν and its variations were not infrequently used in Judaism in Jesus’ time with reference to human remembering, but the occasions are for the most part (a) in texts originally written in Greek such as the Wisdom of Solomon (εἰς ἀνάμνησιν), 4 Macc. 17:8 (εἰς μνείαν) and twice in Philo (εἰς μνήμην),⁴ or (b) translations of such Old Testament texts as speak of human remembrance. By far the more frequent practice of Judaism at the time of Jesus, however, is to use εἰς ἀνάμνησιν and its equivalents of God’s remembrance. The reader who will take the trouble to check the references to Old Testament and Jewish remembrance formulae gathered together on pp. 244–6 from the viewpoint as to whether they are concerned with human or divine remembrance will see at once that for the most part they speak of God’s remembrance.¹

3. Where, however, εἰς ἀνάμνησιν and its equivalents mean ‘that God may remember’, this has a twofold significance. In the first place it means that something is brought before God.² So, for example, when a bequest is deposited in the temple lezikkaron (Zech. 6:14), when of the shewbread it is said that it is laid before the eyes of the Lord εἰς ἀνάμνησιν (LXX, Lev. 24:7), when the priests sound the trumpets at a sacrifice to effect μνημοσύνη (Ecclus 50:16), when the prayers of the righteous and their complaints against the sinners are brought before God εἰς μνημόσυνον (Enoch 99.3, Gr.), when prayers and alms ascend ‘as a memorial before God’ (Acts 10:4)—always it is not simply a matter of God being reminded of a person or thing, but of something being brought before God. This is conceived quite realistically. When in Num. 5:15 it says of the offering brought on the occasion of a complaint of adultery that it is a zkrwn-offering, a θυσἰα μνημοσύνου ἀναμιμνήσκουσα ἁμαρτίαν (LXX), this means that the sin itself is ‘re-called’ before God by means of the offering, is re-presented before him,³ the past thus becoming present before God. ‘Have you come to bring my sin to remembrance (before God?’), cries the widow from Zarepheth to Elijah after the death of her son (1 Kings 17:18). The meaning could be similar when the Epistle to the Hebrews says of the Old Testament Day of Atonement sacrifices, that the blood of bulls and goats only effects ἀνάμνησις ἁμαρτιῶν (10:3)—it can bring the sins to life before God, but it cannot blot them out.⁴ In all of these places ἀνάμνησις denotes representation before God.

This is, however, only one side of that which is said in the phrase εἰς ἀνάμνησιν when this is used of God. This calling into the presence of God, this bringing to life before God, this recalling of the past, this is, on the other side, effective. It has a purpose, it is intended to effect something: that God may remember—mercifully or punishingly. God’s remembrance is, namely (this is an important fact to which O. Michel called attention), never a simple remembering of something, but always and without exception ‘an effecting and creating event’.¹ When Luke 1:72 says that God remembers his covenant, this means that he is now fulfilling the eschatological covenant promise. When God remembers the iniquities of Babylon the Great (Rev. 18:5), this means that he is now releasing the eschatological judgment. When the sinner ‘is not to be remembered’ at the resurrection, this means that he will have no part in it (Ps. Sol. 3:11). And when God no longer remembers sin, when he forgets it (Jer. 31:34; Heb. 8:12; 10:17), this means that he forgives it.² God’s remembrance is always an action in mercy or judgment.

This is therefore the result of our investigation of the use of the construction εἰς ἀνάμνησιν and its variants in Palestinian linguistic usage: (1) εἰς ἀνάμνησιν is said for the most part in reference to God and (2) it then designates, always and without exception, a presentation before God intended to induce God to act.

(c) Τοῦτο ποιεῖτε εἰς τὴν ἐμὴν ἀνάμνησιν (‘This do in remembrance of me’)

It is clear that these conclusions are important to an understanding of the command for repetition. We recall, before we turn to the exegesis of this command, that it is given twice by Paul, both after the word over the bread and after the word over the cup (1 Cor. 11:24, 25), by Luke on the other hand only after the word over the bread (22:19). Since Luke (alone) gives the ‘for you’ twice, it is not very likely that he is himself responsible for the omission of the second command for repetition. In giving the command only in connection with the bread word he is more probably reflecting an earlier stage of the tradition.³

We consider first the command τοῦτο ποιεῖτε (‘this do’) and then the purpose given εἰς τὴν ἐμὴν ἀνάμνησιν (‘in remembrance of me’). Τοῦτο ποιεῖτε is, as can be seen from comparison with Ex. 29:35; Num. 15:11–13; Deut. 25:9; Jdg. 12:3,⁴ an established expression for the repetition of a rite. This usage lives on in the Qumran texts.¹ 1QS 2.19 commands the annual repetition of the covenant renewal with the words kkh yʿśw, and in 1 QSa 2.21 a depiction of the ritual beginning of a meal in the Messianic time is followed by ordaining that this rite be observed, using the phrase wkḥwḳ hzh yʿś(w).² If the command for repetition uses τοῦτο in reference to a rite, then the question is which rite is intended. It cannot refer to the simple recital of the words of interpretation (that is ruled out by ποιεῖτε which contemplates action); nor can it mean the whole meal (that is ruled out by the repetition with the cup and the limiting ‘as often as you drink’, 1 Cor. 11:25); there remains only the possibility that τοῦτο refers to the rite of breaking the bread, i.e. the rite of grace at table. To be exact, it is scarcely possible that the reference is to the normal table prayer—that would need no special instruction—it is rather to the special grace by means of which the table fellowship of the Messianic community was established, which extolled the salvation activity of God and prayed for its consummation,³ a prayer which Jesus himself may have used during his lifetime.⁴ As we saw, 1QSa 2.21 uses an analogous formula to organize a specific form of the beginning of the meal and of the constitution of the table fellowship. Paul also refers the τοῦτο to the rite of grace at table; this can be seen from 1 Cor. 10:16, ‘The cup of blessing which we bless.… The bread which we break’: ‘we bless’ and ‘we break’ refer to the carrying out of the command τοῦτο ποιεῖτε, which he has in a doubled form.⁵ There is, finally, one further argument, and a strong one, in support of this interpretation of the τοῦτο ποιεῖτε as referring to the rite of grace at table. We have seen that very early, presumably even before the writing of I Corinthians, the normal meal and the Eucharist were separated from one another.⁶ That such a separation should have become desirable is understandable when we realize that in the beginning the non-baptized took part in the meal.⁷ But how did it come about that the particular, and somewhat strange, solution to the problem was chosen, of giving an independent existence to the rite of breaking the bread and repeating it together with the rite of blessing the cup at the end of the meal? This question allows of scarcely any other answer than this: even before the separation of the Eucharist from the meal proper the rite of breaking the bread (Luke 22:19) and, as a consequence, the rite of blessing the cup (1 Cor. 11:25) already possessed an importance by themselves. This intrinsic importance of the breaking of the bread, which is also expressed in the use of ‘the breaking of bread’, ‘to break bread’ as technical terms,¹ is probably due to the command for repetition.

The breaking of bread by the disciples (τοῦτο) shall be done (ποιεῖτε) εἰς τὴν ἐμὴν ἀνάμνησιν (‘in remembrance of me’). The expression is ambiguous. It is clear that ἐμήν² represents an objective genitive.³ The phrase therefore means: ‘that I be remembered’, ‘in rememberance (sic) of me’ (RSV). The only question is: Who should remember Jesus? The usual interpretation, according to which it is the disciples who should remember, is strange. Was Jesus afraid that his disciples would forget him? But this is not the only possible interpretation, indeed it is not even the most obvious. In the New Testament we find a parallel construction εἰς μνημόσυνον at two places: Mark 14:9 (par. Matt. 26:13) and Acts 10:4, ‘as a memorial before God’. Acts 10:4 specifically names God as the subject of the remembering⁴ and similarly Mark 14:9 par., ‘in memory of her’, in all probability relates to the merciful remembrance of God: ‘that God may (mercifully) remember her (at the last judgment)’.⁵ This is in agreement with what we saw above, pp. 246–9, that in the Old Testament and Palestinian memorial formulae it is almost always God who remembers. In accordance with this the command for repetition may be translated: ‘This do, that God may remember me.’

How is this to be understood? Here an old passover prayer is illuminating. On passover evening a prayer (yʿlh wybʾ) is inserted into the third benediction of the grace after the meal, a prayer which asks God to remember the Messiah.¹ The wording of this prayer has been transmitted with unusual accuracy (it is practically the same in all the rites)² and it may go back in essence to the time of Jesus.³ 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 (zikron mašiaḥ ben Dawid ‘abdeka), 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.…’⁴ In this very common prayer, which is also used on other festival days,⁵ God is petitioned at every passover concerning ‘the remembrance of the Messiah’, i.e. concerning the appearance of the Messiah, which means the bringing about of the parousia. We shall see⁶ how very strongly this petition that God may ‘remember’ the Messiah has influenced and even determined the whole passover festival: every passover celebration concluded with the jubilant antiphonal choir which one day would greet the Messiah at his entry into Jerusalem. Consequently the command for repetition may be understood as: ‘This do, that God may remember me’: God remembers the Messiah in that he causes the kingdom to break in by the parousia.

It is in this way that Paul already understood the ἀνάμνησις commandment, and his words have special weight in that they represent the oldest interpretation of the commandment which we possess. After quoting the liturgical formula, 1 Cor. 11:23–25, Paul continues: ‘For as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes’ (v. 26). We must first clarify the relationship between v. 26 and the liturgical formula. Both the resumptive ‘as often as’ (ὁσάκις) and above all the ‘for’ (γάρ) show that v. 26 is directly related to the preceding sentence, i.e. to the ἀνάμνησις-commandment. ‘The Lord has commanded the repetition εἰς ἀνάμνησιν and you are indeed fulfilling this command;¹ for at every celebration of the Lord’s supper you proclaim his death.’ The ἀνάμνησις commandment is therefore fulfilled by the proclamation of the death of Jesus at the Lord’s supper. So everything depends upon how the ‘proclamation of the Lord’s death’ is to be understood. That it is a verbal proclamation, and what the probable form of this proclamation was, we saw above, pp. 106ff. The content of the ‘proclamation of the Lord’s death’ has to be deduced from the subordinate clause ‘until he comes’ (ἄχρι οὗ ἔλθῃ).² This clause is not a simple time reference, but ἔλθῃ is a prospective subjunctive which, as appears from the omission of ἄν, has a certain affinity with the final clause³ and may therefore be freely translated ‘until (matters have developed to the point at which) he comes’, ‘until (the goal is reached, that) he comes’. Actually, in the New Testament ἄχρι οὗ with the aorist subjunctive without ἄν regularly introduces a reference to reaching the eschatological goal, Rom. 11:25; 1 Cor. 15:25; Luke 21:24. ‘Until he comes’ apparently alludes to the maranatha of the liturgy⁴ with which the community prays for the eschatological coming of the Lord. This means that the death of the Lord is not proclaimed at every celebration of the meal as a past event but as an eschatological event, as the beginning of the New Covenant.⁵ The proclamation of the death of Jesus is not therefore intended to call to the remembrance of the community the event of the Passion; rather this proclamation expresses the vicarious death of Jesus as the beginning of the salvation time and prays for the coming of the consummation. As often as the death of the Lord is proclaimed at the Lord’s supper, and the maranatha rises upwards, God is reminded of the unfulfilled climax of the work of salvation ‘until (the goal is reached, that) he comes’. Paul has therefore understood the ἀνάμνησις as the eschatological remembrance of God that is to be realized in the parousia.

Paul does not stand alone in this eschatological understanding of the ἀνάμνησις-commandment; it is supported by all the other texts to which we have access. In this connection we must first consider the meal prayers of the Didache. It is significant that the grace after the ordinary meal leads up to a prayer for the eschatological remembrance of God: ‘Remember, Lord, thy Church to deliver it from all evil and to perfect it in thy love; and gather it together from the four winds, (even the Church) that has been sanctified, into thy kingdom which thou hast prepared for her’ (10.5). The community celebrating the meal petitions God that he may ‘remember’ his Church, in that he grants her the consummation and gathers her into the kingdom which he has prepared for her. Still more important is the fact that the prayer calls immediately following, which lead up to the celebration of the Eucharist, are absolutely and completely directed towards the parousia:

‘May the Lord (Coptic) come and this world pass away.
Amen.
Hosanna to the house (Coptic) of David.¹
If any man is holy, let him come; if any man is not, let him repent. Maranatha.
Amen (10.6).’

At every celebration of the Eucharist therefore the community prays for the coming of the Lord, indeed it anticipates the blessed hour by greeting the returning Lord with the jubilant Hosanna, the cry of salvation at the parousia.² With a similar intent, Luke speaks of the ‘gladness’ (ἀγαλλίασις), the eschatological jubilation, which ruled the mealtimes of the earliest community (Acts 2:46).

To summarize my argument: it seems to me certain that the command for repetition may no longer be interpreted on the basis of hellenistic presuppositions, but must be interpreted against a Palestinian background. ‘In remembrance of me’ can then scarcely mean ‘that you may remember me’, but most probably ‘that God may remember me’.¹ This means that the command to repeat the rite is not a summons to the disciples to preserve the memory of Jesus and be vigilant (‘repeat the breaking of bread so that you may not forget me’), but it is an eschatologically oriented instruction: ‘Keep joining yourselves together as the redeemed community by the table rite, that in this way God may be daily implored to bring about the consummation in the parousia.’ By coming together daily for table fellowship in the short period of time before the parousia and by confessing in this way Jesus as their Lord, the disciples represent the initiated salvation work before God and they pray for its consummation.²

If this is correct, then the question of authenticity must be raised anew. In any case a reference to the parousia is much nearer to Jesus than would be a hellenistic foundation formula. But we can say more than this. We shall see in the next section that the liturgical anticipation of the parousia was a regular part of the passover ritual. The anticipation of the antiphonal choir at the parousia, with which the passover celebration ended, is an illustration of the way in which God could be petitioned, in a liturgical rite, to remember the Messiah. What Israel did annually at the passover meal the disciples should do daily. This close relationship between the command for repetition and the passover ritual makes it very probable that the command goes back to Jesus himself, and this is supported by the considerations mentioned above, pp. 250f.

LXX Septuagint

RSV Revised Standard Version

Page 244 Footnotes

¹ Ps.-Philo, Ant. bibl. 26.12 (G. Kisch, Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum [Publications in Mediaeval Studies. The University of Notre Dame 10], Notre Dame, Indiana, 1949, 187).

² See below, p. 247.

³ K. Galling, ‘Königliche und nichtkönigliche Stifter beim Tempel von Jerusalem’, ZDPV 68 (1946–51), 134–42.

⁴ For the text (lḥn) cf. O. Procksch in R. Kittel, Biblica Hebraica³, Stuttgart, 1937, ad loc.; F. Horst in T. H. Robinson—F. Horst, Die Zwölf Kleinen Propheten², Tübingen, 1954, 236; Galling, op. cit., 138.

Page 245 Footnotes

¹ S. Klein, Jüdisch-palästinisches Corpus Inscriptionum, Vienna-Berlin, 1920, 69f. no. 3 (ʿAin ed-Dōq), 75 no. 4 (Kafr Kenna), 77 no. 5 (Sepphoris), 82 no. 12 (Khirbet Kanef); E. L. Sukenik, Ancient Synagogues in Palestine and Greece, London, 1934, 72 (Beit Djibrin), 73 (ʿAin ed-Dōq), 75, 76 (Naʿaran), cf. 76 (Beit Alpha: μνησθῶσιν). Rabbinical examples in J. Jeremias, ‘Mc 14, 9’, ZNW 44 (1952–3), 106 n. 21, and in E. Bammel, ‘Zum jüdischen Märtyrerkult’, ThLZ 78 (1953), col. 124 n. 50.

² English translation by M. Avi-Yonah in D. C. Baramki-M. Avi-Yonah, Quarterly of the Department of Antiquities in Palestine 6 (1936–7), 76 n. 2, quoted by E. R. Goodenough, Jewish Symbols in the Greco-Roman Period (Bollingen Series 37) I, New York, 1952, 261; II, 1952, 129.

³ Ibid.

⁴ Text, e.g., in P. Fiebig, Rosch ha-schana (Neujahr), Giessen, 1914, 53–58.

⁵ Billerbeck IV, 251.

⁶ Klein, op. cit., 39 no. 114; J.-B. Frey, Corpus Inscriptionum Iudaicarum (Sussidi allo studio delle antichità cristiane 1), Vatican City-Rome-Paris, 1936, 446 no. 625, 447f. no. 629, 453f. no. 635, 474f. no. 661. Cf. Ecclus 45:1 (of Moses): zkrw lṭwbh.

⁷ Frey, op. cit., 60 no. 86, 140f. no. 201 (268f. no. 343), 287f. no. 270, cf. 361f. no. 496: simply μνησθῇ.

Page 246 Footnotes

¹ b. Ḳid. 31b.

² lzkrwn, lʾzkrh, lzkr.

³ ldkrn, ldwkrnʾ.

⁴ See above, p. 244.

Page 247 Footnotes

¹ But each time (1:1p; 2:23; 9:32; 10:2) without an equivalent in the Hebrew text.

² LXX, Ps. 111 (112):6, εἰς μνημόσυνον αἰώνιον ἔσται δίκαιος, ‘the righteous will be for eternal remembrance’, is to be judged according to what has been said on Prov. 10:7 above, p. 246.

³ Ed. C. Bonner, The Last Chapters of Enoch in Greek (Studies and Documents 8), London, 1937.

⁴ Philo, Quis rer. div. heres sit 170; De vita Mos. 1.186.

Page 248 Footnotes

¹ That additions such as Acts 10:4 (ἔμπροσθεν τοῦ θεοῦ), Ecclus 50:16 (ἔναντι ὑψίστον), I Enoch 99.3 (ἐνώπιον τοῦ ὑψίστου θεοῦ) are found only occasionally is to be explained by the fact that the formulae are firmly established.

² R. Stählin, ‘Herrenmahl und Heilsgeschichte’, Evangelisch-lutherische Kirchenzeitung 2 (1948), 153b.

³ Dix, Liturgy, 161.

⁴ Ibid.

Page 249 Footnotes

¹ O. Michel, μιμνῄσκομαι κτλ., TWNT IV (1942), 678.26f.

² Heb. 10:18: therefore there is no further need from that moment for any sin-offerings. The meaning of the cry of the penitent thief in Luke 23:42 is similar: with the words ‘Jesus, remember me when you come as king’ (ἐν τῇ βασιλείᾳ [א C  Θ pl Th] σου = bemalkutak, ‘when you become king’, i.e. at the Parousia) he asks that Jesus speak for him at the final judgment.

³ Schürmann, Einsetzungsbericht, 70.

⁴ All of these texts have kakah (LXX, οὕτως) with a jussive form of ʿaśah (LXX, ποιεῖν).

Page 250 Footnotes

¹ This was pointed out to me by my son, Gert Jeremias.

² On this text see above, p. 35.

³ Cf. Did. 9.1–10.5.

⁴ On this possibility see above, p. 109 n.8 and p. 120 n. 3 under 2a.

⁵ Cf. also 1 Cor. 11:26, where the words ‘as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup’ also describe the carrying out of the doubled τοῦτο ποιεῖτε-command (see below, pp. 252f.).

⁶ See above, p. 121.

⁷ See above, p. 133.

Page 251 Footnotes

¹ On these see above, p. 120f.

² The emphatic position of the possessive pronoun before the noun has led many to see a contrast between the remembrance of Jesus and the remembrance of the Passover (e.g. O. Procksch, ‘Passa und Abendmahl’, in H. Sasse, Vom Sakrament des Altars, 23). But it is most questionable whether in Aramaic the pronoun was especially emphasized (by dili).

³ An objective genitive with ἀνάμνησις, μνημόσυνον is the established usage, cf. Mark 14:9; Wisd. 16:6; Ecclus 10:17; 23:26; 38:23; 39:9; 41:1; 44:9; 45:1; 46:11; 49:1, 13; LXX, Esth. 8:12 u; 1 Macc. 3:7, 35; 8:22; 12:53; 2 Macc. 6:31.

⁴ Cf. Num. 10:10, LXX, ἔσται ὑμῖν ἀνάμνησις ἔναντι τοῦ θεοῦ ὑμῶν.

⁵ I have attempted to give the linguistic arguments in support of the eschatological interpretation of Mark 14:9 (‘Amen, I say to you, when [God’s angel] proclaims the [triumphant] message in all the world, then will what she has done be told [before God], so that he may [mercifully] remember her’) in ‘Mc 14, 9’, ZNW 44 (1952–3), 103–7. Cf. also Jeremias, Promise, 22f.

Page 252 Footnotes

¹ The prayer is to be found in all the countless editions of the passover haggadak. In the Schocken Books edition, New York, 1953, it is on pp. 63f.

² Elbogen, Gottesdienst, 125.

³ Elbogen, Gottesdienst, 125: ‘since the days of the first Tannaites’. Elbogen gives the evidence for this on p. 533.

⁴ Quoted from The Passover Haggadah, Schocken Books, New York, 1953, 63.

⁵ S. R. Hirsch, Siddur tephillot Yiśrael. Israels Gebete³, Frankfurt a. M., 1921, 146, 274, 330, 396, 598, 624, 657, 684. Cf. H. Kosmala, ‘Das tut zu meinem Gedächtnis’, Novum Testamentum 4 (1960), 85.

⁶ See below, pp. 256ff.

Page 253 Footnotes

¹ In view of the preceding γάρ, καταγγέλλετε must be taken as indicative; before the γάρ we must therefore again (cf. p. 211 n. 4) supply the thought which is to be supported by it.

² Cf. ‘d bw’ 1QS 9.11, and ʿdʿmwd CD 12.23; 20.1.

³ Blass-Debrunner, §383.2.

⁴ J. Schniewind, ἀγγελία κτλ., TWNT I (1933), 70 n. 25.

⁵ Schlatter, Paulus, 325.

Page 254 Footnotes

¹ ‘The house of David’ is not, as Audet, La Didachè, 422, erroneously supposes, the temple, which is never called ‘the house of David’, but the ruling house. ‘Hosanna to the house of David’ therefore means ‘Hosanna to (the descendant of) the ruling house!’, ‘Hosanna to the Messiah!’

² See below, pp. 258ff. For the history of the hosanna greeting and the change of its significance from a cry for help to an acclamation, see below, p. 260 n. 4.

Page 255 Footnotes

¹ Cf. LXX, Ps. 131 (132):1: μνήσθητι, κύριε, τοῦ Δαυιδ, ‘Lord, remember David’.

² A. D. Müller, Leipzig, remarks on this: ‘The objective theological content of the Lord’s supper celebration and the activity of the community are not mutually exclusive, but rather one demands the other. Precisely because God himself is the acting subject of the service in the vicarious death of the servant of God for the “many”, the world’s people, the community is included in the sacramental accomplishment not only as object but also as subject with full responsibility.’ (Letter dated May 13, 1950.)

Joachim Jeremias, The Eucharistic Words of Jesus, trans. Norman Perrin (London; Philadelphia, PA: SCM Press; Trinity Press International, 1966), 244–255.

The Lord’s Supper In The Church Meeting

Copyright © 2020, 2023, 2024, 2025 Eric S. Weiss

NOTE: This blog post and the ones associated with it are quite lengthy. I hope to edit and condense them at some point, as well as revise them per additional reading and studying I have done. So consider some of my conclusions or assertions to be tentative for now. 

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), Volume 5, 787.

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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.)

Also read this blog post: The Lord’s Supper—A Fellowship Feast. (The author discusses at length the reasons the Lord's Supper should be a fellowship meal.)

NOTE:

• This blog post begs the question of whether every church gathering in Paul’s time included or usually included Communion/the Lord’s Supper. While 1 Corinthians, especially chapters 11 and 14, gives us the most detailed information in the New Testament about how Christians interacted or were to interact in their church gatherings, it’s not clear if Communion/the Lord’s Supper was shared whenever the church met. See Paul’s Church Meetings for more on Paul’s expectations and instructions for church meetings and worship and the Lord’s Supper.

In that blog post I quote from James D. G. Dunn, who wrote:

Finally we might note that there is no hint in 1 Cor. 11 or 14 as to how the meeting for worship was related to the common meal. The discussion of each does not seem to embrace the other or to leave much room for the other, and we best assume that Paul envisages two separate gatherings for the different purposes (cf. particularly Pliny, Epp., X.96.7).

In that letter Pliny (the Younger) had written to the Emperor Trajan about the results of his interrogation of Christians as follows:

10.96.7 But they declared that the sum of their guilt or their error only amounted to this, that on a stated day they had been accustomed to meet before daybreak and to recite a hymn among themselves to Christ, as though he were a god, and that so far from binding themselves by oath to commit any crime, their oath was to abstain from theft, robbery, adultery, and from breach of faith, and not to deny trust money placed in their keeping when called upon to deliver it. When this ceremony was concluded, it had been their custom to depart and meet again to take food, but it was of no special character and quite harmless, and they had ceased this practice after the edict in which, in accordance with your orders, I had forbidden all secret societies.

10.96.7 Affirmabant autem hanc fuisse summam vel culpae suae vel erroris, quod essent soliti stato die ante lucem convenire, carmenque Christo quasi deo dicere secum invicem seque sacramento non in scelus aliquod obstringere, sed ne furta ne latrocinia ne adulteria committerent, ne fidem fallerent, ne depositum appellati abnegarent. Quibus peractis morem sibi discedendi fuisse rursusque coeundi ad capiendum cibum, promiscuum tamen et innoxium; quod ipsum facere desisse post edictum meum, quo secundum mandata tua hetaerias esse vetueram.

But Pliny wrote this around AD 110, more than half a century after Paul had written 1 Corinthians, so we might expect there to have been changes to the original or early church gathering/meeting practices.

• For more on the meaning and background of Jesus’s “Do this for my memorial” see Joachim Jeremias On The Memorial Formula.

• The Didache (Greek Διδαχή Didachē, pronounced dih-duh-khay or dih-duh-khee; full title (there are both short and [long] versions): Teaching of [the Lord through] the Twelve Apostles [to the Nations] Διδαχὴ [κυρίου διὰ] τῶν δώδεκα ἀποστόλων [τοῖς ἔθνεσιν] Didachē kyriou dia tōn dōdeka apostolōn tois ethnesin), which many scholars date to 80–110 CE, and some even as early as 50 CE, gives a different order of service for the Lord’s Supper than we read in the gospels and in 1 Corinthians, and its Eucharistic prayers seem to support what I state about the “do this for my memorial” aspect of Communion being a reminder to the Father rather than a personal or corporate reflecting on Jesus’s death. See The Didache for more about this important document and how it has both informed and complicated our understanding of the early Christians’ meals and meetings, as well as how the bread and wine of the Eucharist were regarded, and what was the “sacrifice” of the Eucharist.

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   A long time ago in a town far,    
   far away....                                   

Denton, Texas / June 22, 2000

I had an interesting experience tonight, which I will have to continue to think about.

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.

At the end of the prayer meeting at 813 W. Sycamore Street in Denton, Texas, where some of the young men from a local assembly live, and where they have a weekly Thursday night prayer/worship meeting, Timothy Sheaff asked me to administer Communion. This was totally unexpected, by me at least. In other words, I hadn’t “prepared” anything, and also I hadn’t really been participating in the meeting in any exceptional way—I hadn’t shared anything, I hadn’t been waiting to say something, etc.

As I began speaking and breaking the bread (originally thinking just to recite Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 11 by rote), I sensed a tangible “presence” of the Lord in our breaking of the bread and eating it that I had never before experienced during Communion, a reality of His presence that I had never even associated with Communion other than in a “theological” sense (and I have taken Communion for nearly 23 years now, and was responsible for administering it in our former church on a monthly basis for perhaps 5 or more years). As best as I can describe it, it was like our communing was a fulfillment of Jesus’s words that He would not again drink of the fruit of the vine until He drank it new with His disciples (including us) in the Kingdom of God. I sensed—or maybe I can be so bold as to say that I knew—that Jesus was present in our gathering. He was there in our eating of the bread and in our drinking of the cup. He was there with us, maybe even eating and drinking with us. Maybe even eating and drinking as us. Or both.

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:

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?

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.)

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.

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In my opinion, Thomas O’Loughlin in his book The Eucharist: Origins and Contemporary Understandings provides the scholarly support I have long sought re: what Communion/the Lord’s Supper/the Eucharist is supposed to be in terms of its form, practice, procedures, setting, meaning, and purpose. 

This also impacts how believers are to meet when they have “church.”

I am now even more persuaded that “The Normal Christian Church Meeting” (hat tip to Watchman Nee) should be a gathering for a shared meal which incorporates the blessing to the Father over the shared loaf and the shared cup as a memorial to Jesus (per his “do this for my memorial” τοῦτο ποιεῖτε εἰς τὴν ἐμὴν ἀνάμνησιν touto poieite eis tēn emēn anamnēsin Luke 22:19; 1 Corinthians 11:24–25.), and which also includes time for worship and sharing/reading from the Scriptures, praying, prophesying, etc., with the participation/activity being done or able to be done by all the assembled members and not just by a (or the) pastor or leader.

NOTE: I discuss who can or should be allowed to participate in Thoughts On Communion. See the section under “Closed, semi-closed, or open?”

In his discussion of the Jewish meal liturgy Louis Bouyer explains that Jesus’s “do this for my memorial” was not so much intended to mean a personal or corporate reflecting on Jesus’s death but to be a remembrance/reminder to the Father:

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 ourselves and [the remembrance] 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.

In conjunction with the above, Bouyer also writes:

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.  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.

O’Loughlin addresses at length the significance of partaking from a single loaf and drinking from a common cup:

3 There is a loaf

While we have many descriptions of Jewish table prayers, including those where the leader of the table offered the blessing for all at the table,⁵⁸ this emphasis on the breaking of one loaf into portions for sharing seems to be peculiar to the followers of Jesus. This is one of their distinctive practices—and as such Luke can assume that it would be the ‘historical’ basis for the moment of recognition in the Emmaus story (24:35)....

For Paul the singularity of the loaf is a realization of the unity of the new people: ‘Because there is one loaf, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one loaf’ (1 Cor. 10:17). The unity of the loaf, a unity which can be shared in through each having a portion of it when it has been broken, is their unity in Christ. Moreover, just as ‘the people of Israel’ are ‘partners in the altar’ in Jerusalem through eating what has been sacrificed (1 Cor. 10:18), so their eating of ‘the loaf which we break’ makes them participants ‘in the body of Christ’ (1 Cor. 10:16). The body of Christ is the community who have, as individuals, consumed a fraction of the one, common, loaf.⁶¹ And as a table community is a natural unity, so the common loaf shared by those at table is expressive of the basis of that unity: their faith in Jesus.⁶²...

4 There is a cup

While the common memory of the origin of the Eucharist in the ‘Last Supper’ is that Jesus took ‘bread and wine’ (a remembering that emphasizes the distinct materials), by contrast all our texts notice that he took ‘a cup’.⁸⁵...

That this is important can be seen in a variety of ways. The most obvious evidence that ‘a cup’ was significant in the churches’ memory was that having taken the cup Jesus gave it to those at table so that they each drank ‘from it’. It was not that they all drank wine—or any other liquid—which they could do from their individual cups,⁸⁷ nor that they all had a drink of the same wine in that it came from one source or flagon,⁸⁸ but that they passed a cup from one to another and each drank from that same cup. When we recognize this we see at once that ‘the cup’ was of, at least, equal significance to them with what it contained. The focus of early memory was on the how of their drinking, not upon what they drank.

First and foremost, we need to recognize just how unusual was this action of sharing a drinking vessel. There was no equivalent to it in any known Jewish practice such as Shabbat or Pesach meals, there is no mention of anything like it in any other Jewish sect such as the Essenes or the Therapeutae/Therapeutrides, nor are there any literary references to such a practice either in Jewish documents that are certainly earlier than Jesus (be they canonical or not), roughly contemporary with him (e.g. in Philo or Josephus), nor those which are of uncertain date but ancient (e.g., the Mishnah). Making the sharing of a cup part of one’s table manners is confined exclusively to the followers of Jesus. Moreover, that those disciples considered it to be a deliberate and significant ritual is seen by the fact that they located it, and remembered it, explicitly in relation to Jesus’ own action and wishes.⁸⁹ Here we have a practice unique to the churches. Indeed, it is so distinctive that (sic) its features of being ‘disruptive of expectations’ with ‘multiple attestation’ (Paul, the Synoptics, the Didache—and, as we shall see, possible John) that we can view the action as one that goes back to Jesus himself.⁹⁰...

...While drinking is, quite naturally, a part of the meal rituals of all cultures (we need hydration more urgently than alimentation), the notion of regularly passing a cup from mouth to mouth is, to my knowledge, not otherwise attested. There are many instances of shared drink—the same liquid (a group each drinking a particular substance) or the same body of liquid (the liquid drunk coming from a single bowl or a single source)—but not of sharing the same cup.... It seems to be hard-wired into Homo coenarius that she has her own cup at table. This anthropological insight allows us to see that, first, the widespread adoption of this action of sharing a cup cannot be dismissed as some minor practical detail: something so unusual was a very deliberate choice....

When we take these pointers to the significance of the common cup, we can see that the paralleling, mentioned above, of ‘bread’ with ‘wine’ is faulty in that that parallel is based on materials. An accurate paralleling should be in terms of their formal use within a meal. One ‘loaf of bread’ (which can be shared by breaking) is paralleled by ‘one cup’ (which can be shared by being passed from one to another). Paul’s use of ‘eat of the loaf and drink of the cup’ (1 Cor. 11:28) is, therefore, a precise statement of the central ritual actions....

...Drinking from the common cup was a ‘boundary ritual’ that expressed commitment to discipleship, and as such was a serious matter: they had to be willing to answer for their decision to drink from that common cup (11:27–8). Because it is the action of declaring both commitment to discipleship and rejection of idols, it is a participation in the life-blood of the Christ (10:16) and makes them part of the new covenant which was sealed in Christ’s blood (11:25).⁹⁹ For Paul discipleship is about being part of the new covenant and sharing in the new life offered by the Christ; and taking the common cup—not a gesture that one would do lightly in any case—was accepting that discipleship and taking that life-blood of the Christ into one’s own body.¹⁰⁰ We are accustomed to think of the act of baptism as the boundary ritual of the new community, but for Paul at the time he first wrote to the Corinthians, the sharing of the cup was also a demarcation ritual—and because it was repeated weekly it was the ongoing declaration of willingness to continue along the Way. That such a paralleling of drinking from the cup with baptism was present in Paul’s mind when he wrote about that church’s meals is confirmed by his remark about the Spirit being present in that church: ‘for by one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and all were made to drink of one Spirit’ (12:13). Just as the Spirit united them in baptism, so the Spirit was now what they drank in common. In short, if they wanted to be part of the new people, then they drank from the common cup accepting the consequences. They were becoming blood brothers and sisters in the new covenant.¹⁰¹...

When we look at the Synoptic Tradition, we see that this notion that the one cup of the Lord is be taken as willingness to accept what discipleship involves is reinforced, while being given a narrative expression, within a paradigm encounter of would-be disciples with Jesus. The scene appears in Mk 10:35–40 where James and John, the sons of Zebedee, ask if they can sit beside Jesus in glory. This prompts a challenge that links drinking from the same cup as the Lord with baptism: ‘Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?’ (10:38). And when they reply that they are able, they are told that ‘The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized’ but that still will not guarantee them their desired places. To accept fully what it is to be a disciple is both to share in the baptism of Jesus and to drink the same cup as him.... if you drink the ritual cup, then you consciously declare your readiness to accept the cost of discipleship.¹⁰³...

Drinking from the one cup is a declaration within the community of acceptance of a common destiny as a community, and its common destiny with the Christ; as such it formed a very real, and possibly physically dangerous, boundary for the people of the New Covenant. It was also an act that was intended to shatter other boundaries such as those of race, social status and factions within the churches, and implied a willingness for a new fictive community and a new intimacy in Jesus. As such, it is the presumed social backdrop for the logion on being friends in Jn 15:13–5: friends with one another and with the Lord.

The meal envisaged in Sir. 31–32 as a Jewish symposium may give us the general shape of the churches’ eucharistic meals, but the sharing of the loaf, and especially the sharing of a single cup, be it of wine or water, made this event stand out as forming a table community with a very distinctive view of their common destiny and what might lie in store for them as the consequence of having embarked on The Way. This understanding of the cup, when located within the overall setting of the meal in the presence of the risen Jesus, can then form the basis for its being seen as an anticipation of the Kingdom (Mk 14:25)¹⁰⁵ and the banquet of the Kingdom (Mt. 8:11–2).¹⁰⁶...

The sharing of the common cup as a central moment in any Eucharist should not be seen as merely the fulfilment of a biblical/dominical command (Mt. 26:27) or an item of traditional ritual. Rather it needs to be recognized as a constituent moment in Christian identity. It needs to be seen on a par with baptism, a uniquely christ-ian moment, that marks the gracious transformation of disciples into friends. Moreover, the actuality of sharing the cup must be seen as a direct linking with the actions and proclamation of Jesus rather than in terms of some vague ‘fuller sign value’¹⁰⁹: the Lord instituted a radical sign of discipleship and he drank the cup, and so, in the midst of convivial rejoicing, we have the challenge that we too must drink from the cup and accept the radical call of discipleship.

Footnotes

⁵⁸ Bahr 1970.

⁶¹ See Hollander 2009.

⁶² See Rouwhorst 2006.

⁸⁵ 1 Cor. 10:16 and 21; 11:25, 26, 27 and 28; Mk 14:23; Mt. 26:27; Lk. 22:17 and 20; and Didache, 9:2.

⁸⁷ This is the normal meaning we take when we share a moment of common drinking. If I say ‘we had coffee together after the meeting’, the implication is that each had her/his own cup of coffee but we had these in company with one another. Likewise, if I said about a friend ‘we went for a pint together’, I do not mean we had one pint between us, much less that we drank from the same glass, but that we each had our own pint in our own glasses. The intimacy of friendship implied in ‘going for a pint’ together does not extend to sharing cups.

⁸⁸ This is the understanding implied when a flagon is placed on the table for the Eucharistic Prayer and ‘blessed’ (understood as blessing a creature)/‘consecrated’ so that a variety of cups can be filled from it. This practice considers the flagon as a container for a sufficient quantity of a ritual material by parallel with a ciborium—a vessel distinct from a paten—which can contain hundreds of wafers. See O’Loughlin 2008.

⁸⁹ This is already in evidence in Paul when he wrote to the Corinthians assuming there is a single cup (10:16) and that they all drink ‘the cup of the Lord’ (11:27); and that this is a practice ‘received from the Lord’ (11:23).

⁹⁰ J. P. Meier set out a list of criteria for determining which ‘sayings of Jesus’ in literary artefacts are likely to be based in actual statements by Jesus (Meier 1994, 237–43) but these criteria can equally be used in the case of an action which is as distinctive as this one and so is analogous to an utterance. See Meier 1995, 349–50; Meier, in that article, is exceptional among exegetes working on the Last Supper narratives in noting the significance that the disciples are portrayed drinking from the cup of Jesus rather than their individual cups.

⁹⁹ See Meier 1995, 349–50 who develops this understanding of sharing the cup from Paul to the Synoptics. See also Theiss 1994.

¹⁰⁰ For this aspect of commensality as part of Paul’s gospel, see Jewett 1994.

¹⁰¹ Megivern 1962, 55 uses this image of ‘blood brothers’ in the covenant as part of the significance of drinking the cup.

¹⁰³ This notion of a ritual conversion between the cup of the meal and the cup of martyrdom comes out in a developed form in Ignatius’ letters, see Lawlor 1991, 286–7.

¹⁰⁵ See Meier 1994, 302–9.

¹⁰⁶ See Meier 1994, 309–17.

¹⁰⁹ See Megivern 1962, 56.

Thomas O’Loughlin, The Eucharist: Origins and Contemporary Understandings (London; New Delhi; New York; Sydney: Bloomsbury, 2015), 159–174.

NOTE: Gordon D. Fee in his NICNT volume on 1 Corinthians (both the original and the revised edition) argues that Jesus saying “do this for my memorial” meant that when sharing the Lord’s Supper his followers were to remember his death versus reminding God of the covenant effected by his death:

...Thus just as the Passover meal itself was such a “remembrance” to be kept forever in Israel, so Jesus is now reconstituting the “memorial” for the newly constituted Israel that will gather around the table in his name to “remember” their own deliverance through him.¹²⁰ That is why Jesus described it as “my remembrance.” It is not simply “in memory of him,” but it is eaten as a “memorial” of the salvation that he has effected through his death and resurrection.

In the same way, it is very difficult to escape the conclusion, based on Paul’s own interpretation to come (v. 26), that for him the “remembrance” was primarily “humanward.” After all, that is quite the point in the larger context, where the Corinthians’ meal had turned into such a fiasco that the “remembrance” of Christ is precisely what is missing. Thus Paul’s great concern in repeating these words is to remind them of the “humanward” implications of this “remembrance.”¹²¹ By this meal they “proclaim” Christ’s death until he comes, that is, they declare the good news of their salvation that makes them all one. To participate in a manner unworthy of that specific “remembrance” means to come under judgment for the very reason that it fails to acknowledge the meal as a “memorial” of God’s saving event.

Footnotes

¹²⁰ This does not exclude the possibility that Jesus “reminded” God of their need of his forgiveness based on his sacrifice. But it would seem that the primary referent is the “manward” one.

¹²¹ Even though both Jeremias and Chenderlin pay lip-service to the larger context, they seem to abandon it almost totally when they examine the word ἀνάμνησις itself. Paul’s concern throughout the passage, and the reason for reminding them of the words of institution, seems altogether to lack a “Godward” dimension. This dimension is precisely what needs to be demonstrated, not the wide semantic range available to Paul. This meal and these words do not urge on them that God remembers Jesus in their behalf, but rather that this meal is a celebration of their common salvation, which their own private meals almost totally ignore.

Gordon D. Fee, The First Epistle to the Corinthians, ed. Ned B. Stonehouse et al., Revised Edition., The New International Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI; Cambridge, U.K.: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2014), 612–613.

There are other commentators who side with Fee, like Simon J. Kistemaker, who writes:

The command to “do this in remembrance of me” can be understood in both an objective and a subjective sense. Objectively, it refers to our prayer to God that he will graciously remember the Messiah and cause his kingdom to come at his appearing.⁷² Subjectively, it means that we as partakers at the Lord’s table remember his death on the cross. Of these two interpretations, the second one appears to be more relevant in the context. Within the Corinthian church, the people failed to observe the Lord’s Supper properly (vv. 20–21). They needed to remember Jesus’ death and reflect on its implication for them. Hence, Paul repeats the words of Jesus as a reminder to the Corinthians that the Lord’s Supper is an act of remembrance.⁷³

Footnotes

⁷² Joachim Jeremias, The Eucharistic Words of Jesus, trans. Norman Perrin from the German 3d rev. ed. (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1966), p. 252; Richard J. Ginn, The Present and the Past: A Study of Anamnesis (Allison Park, Penn.: Pickwick Publications, 1989), p. 20.

⁷³ Fee, First Corinthians, p. 553. Consult also Fritz Chenderlin, “Do This as My Memorial.” The Semantic and Conceptual Background and Value of Anamnēsis in 1 Corinthians 11:24–25, Analecta Biblica 99 (Rome: Biblical Institute Press, 1982); M. H. Sykes, “The Eucharist as ‘Anamnesis,’ ” ExpT 71 (1960): 115–18.

Simon J. Kistemaker and William Hendriksen, Exposition of the First Epistle to the Corinthians, vol. 18, New Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1953–2001), 395.

While I lean towards Bouyer’s and Jeremias’s interpretation (and I think the Didache also supports the “Godward” interpretation of Jesus’s words of remembrance), perhaps both meanings are intended and can be expressed in the prayers at the Lord’s Supper.

Over time (scholars debate when this process began) the church separated the Eucharist from the fellowship meal (aka the “love feast” or ἀγάπη agapē; see Jude 12). The fellowship meal, which was the original and intended setting for the Eucharist and the church gathering, eventually faded from practice and memory. The church also began treating the Eucharist as being sacramental, including regarding the bread and wine as being or becoming Christ’s real body and blood. In conjunction with or subsequent to that, a hierarchical priesthood arose or was instituted in order to offer the bread and wine as sacrifices, and to oversee or effect their supposed change into Christ's body and blood, and possibly also to “protect” the Eucharist.

NOTE: The Didache (13:3) refers to prophets as being “your high priests” (οἱ ἀρχιερεῖς ὑμῶν hoi archiereis hymōn). This does not mean that the Didache community regarded the elements of the Lord’s Supper as being sacrificial, or that the assembly needed a priest to administer or oversee the meal. The issue is complex and somewhat vague, as Kurt Niederwimmer and Harold W. Attridge explain:

He [the Didachist] decrees that the cultic demand of Scripture (the OT) that the ἀπαρχή be surrendered as an offering is now translated into an obligation toward the Christian prophets active in the community. To them is due the ἀπαρχή of what God gives to humanity, and this is because they, the prophets, take the place in the Christian community that belonged to the high priests in Israel. Indeed the prophets are “your” high priests (Did. 13.3b).⁸ Therefore, the cultic offering that the Old Testament community owed to its high priests now belongs to them.⁹ We may ask whether the terminology (according to which the prophets appear as ἀρχιερεῖς) allows us to conclude that the prophets led worship in the Didache communities.¹⁰ Did. 10.7 seems to presume that at the time of the Didache the local officials led worship, but the prophets had the right to charismatic prayer; 15.1–2 shows both groups in leadership functions (see below). 

Excursus: The Didachist and Judaism

This passage at 13.3 is important for understanding the position of the Didachist with respect to Judaism. The Old Testament cultic law is transferred, rather freely, to the new, ecclesiastical situation and is altered accordingly. In order to underscore the status of the prophets and to insure that the community recognizes its obligation to care for them, the Didachist parallels¹¹ the Christian prophets of his own time with the ἀρχιερεῖς of the old covenant, thus making the prophets (metaphorically) the “high priests” of Christians.¹² This is a striking formulation, and it has no direct parallels in early Christian literature.¹³

Footnotes

⁸ There is a characteristic alteration in Const. 7.29.1: πᾶσαν ἀπαρχὴν γεννημάτων ληνοῦ, ἅλωνος βοῶν τε καὶ προβάτων δώσεις τοῖς ἱερεῦσιν. Now it refers to the Christian priests. Cf. 2.26.3, where the Constitutor (dependent on the Didascalia apostolorum; cf. n. 12 below) parallels the high priests with the bishops, the priests with the presbyters, and the Levites with the deacons.

⁹ This is expressed only as a general idea. For the OT prescriptions regarding priests’ incomes cf. Deut 18:3–4; Num 18:8–32; Ezek 44:30; Neh 10:32–39; 2 Chr 31:4–10. The OT is aware of prescriptions for priests’ income, but there are no specific regulations for the income of the high priest. The error in the Didache casts a revealing light on the Didachist. For the real income of the high priest at the time of Jesus, see Joachim Jeremias, Jerusalem in the Time of Jesus (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1969) 150–51. The episode in 2 Kgs 4:42 (a gift of firstfruits to an OT prophet) was apparently less suitable for the Didachist’s argument.

¹⁰ Thus Rordorf and Tuilier, Doctrine, 52–53; differently de Halleux, “Ministers” 312.

¹¹ The system of thought that lies behind this is obviously that of typological exegesis, even if this is not expressed and perhaps is not even brought to the level of consciousness (cf. earlier, at Did. 11.11). We should also take note of the elements that are brought to bear to make up the Didachist’s demonstration: (a) the ἐντολὴ (κυρίου), which was quoted in vv. 1–2; and (b) the typological interpretation of the OT. The mandata Domini and the OT (unreflectively interpreted in Christian fashion) are the instances to which the redactor appeals.

¹² Compare the contrary position of Tertullian De bapt. 17.1 (CChrSL 1.291): summus sacerdos, si qui est, episcopus … (“the high priest, if anyone, is the bishop”) and Didasc. (Syriac) 9 (CSCO 401.103; 402.100); and (Latin) 25.20–21 (TU 75.41). For the question whether the Didascalia is quoting the Didache at this point, see above, p. 15.

¹³ Harnack, Lehre 52.

Kurt Niederwimmer and Harold W. Attridge, The Didache: A Commentary, Hermeneia—a Critical and Historical Commentary on the Bible (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1998), 191–192.

While some may point to 1 Corinthians 10:16–21 in support of the sacramental and sacrificial [offering] view of the bread and the wine that the church later came to adopt, that is not the only way to understand the passage or the meaning of κοινωνία (koinōnia) there, and probably not the best way, either. See, e.g., Gordon D. Fee, The First Epistle to the Corinthians, ed. Ned B. Stonehouse et al., Revised Edition., The New International Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI; Cambridge, U.K.: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2014), 513–522.

Others point to Ignatius’s letters as supporting an early sacrificial and sacramental view of the Eucharist. But as O’Loughlin points out:

The issue of Ignatius is complex for many Christian theologians in that he is often still dated to c. 100–110, whereas he should be dated to c. 150–160 at the earliest (see Barnes 2008), and as such an early writer seen as the best witness to the notion of three-tier ministry (i.e. for many this is seen as equivalent to a demonstration of the authenticity of a Christian priesthood qua tale) and so it is presumed that his views on the Eucharist are therefore above reproach (and, of course, they do fit with what later emerged!); but if one studies his views on the Eucharist in contrast to that of earlier writers or indeed his contemporaries, then it is clear that he has absorbed many assumptions from Hellenistic religion without question (see Brent 2006) and, in particular, has come to present the purpose of eucharistic activity as a direct counterpart to the role of sacrifices in those cults (see Lathrop 1990).

Thomas O’Loughlin, The Eucharist: Origins and Contemporary Understandings (London; New Delhi; New York; Sydney: Bloomsbury, 2015), 98, Footnote 10.

Jonathan Lookadoo (The Date and Authenticity of the Ignatian Letters: An Outline of Recent  Discussions in Currents in Biblical Research 2020, Vol. 19(1) 88–114) writes: 

Paul Trebilco (2004: 629-32; 2006: 20; 2013: 297) has likewise challenged the arguments of Hübner and Lechner and argued that the Ignatian letters are best dated slightly earlier in Trajan’s reign, perhaps between 105–110 CE (see similarly Trevett 1992: 3-9; Lookadoo 2018a: 15-22). This argument agrees with the date of 107 CE that Eusebius gives in his Chronicon (for text, see Karst 1911: 228) and also suggests that Ignatius’s letters were most likely written before the time of Pliny the Younger’s  correspondence with Trajan regarding early Jesus followers (Ep. 10.96-97). (page 99)

But a New Testament professor who was at a conference where Trebilco offered a critique of Barnes reported to me that Trebilco now opts for 120–140 CE. While that’s not as late as O’Loughlin suggests, it still puts Ignatius’s writings about 100 years after the start of the church and 70 or so years after Paul wrote his instructions and exhortations to the Corinthians.

I cannot think of anywhere in the Old Testament that the people of God were told to eat and drink the real body and blood of deity, or to expect to do that one day as part of their covenant and faith. But there are many instances in the Old Testament where the people of God ate and drank and rejoiced together before God (or were commanded or instructed to do so), and I believe that is what Jesus and the apostles desired and expected to happen when believers “come together.”

NOTE: All persons sipping/drinking from a shared cup might be a problem for some. Possible approaches:

• 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.

You can get O’Loughlin’s book here: The Eucharist: Origins and Contemporary Understandings. The author addresses some of the same things in his earlier book The Didache: A Window on the Earliest Christians.

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William F. Orr and James Arthur Walther in their Anchor Yale commentary on I Corinthians also argue against the sacrificial and sacramental understanding of the bread and wine of the Lord’s Supper. [Thomas O’Loughlin’s views seem to align with many of theirs, but even though their commentary is from 1976, he doesn’t mention either of the authors in his books that I refer to in this blog post.]

As Orr and Walther state in the lengthy excerpt below:

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.

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—an essential and foundational doctrine of the Catholic and Orthodox Churches and their institutional priesthoods—might have been based on a gentile misunderstanding of Jewish practices and culture, as Orr and Walther suggest. The foods at the Passover Seder (which has been held to be the setting of Jesus’s Last Supper) were symbolic, so in the context of a Passover Seder Jesus would have been speaking symbolically about the bread and the cup (wine) when he (re)interpreted the meal and its elements for his disciples.

However, in this 2013 lecture “Did Rabbinic Judaism emerge out of Christianity?” Hebrew University Professor Israel Jacob Yuval argues for the opposite of what has been long presumed: I.e., instead of Jesus’s Last Supper being a Jewish Passover Seder with Jesus reinterpreting the meanings of its story of the deliverance from Egypt and the foods served, the Passover Seder was in fact created in response to the Christians’ Lord’s Supper—and the Seder’s and the Haggadah’s explanations of the foods were a Jewish response to Jesus’s words about the bread and the cup. Yuval in fact claims that the gospels were the first Passover Haggadahs, and he references the second-century document the Epistula Apostolorum as an example of how Christians told the Jesus story in a manner that was emulated by the rabbis when they created the Passover Haggadah and Seder in the second century. (Watch 0:27:11–0:38:17 in the video.)

But whether Jesus’s words and actions at the Last Supper took place (as has long been believed) during an established ritual Passover meal, or were instead (as Yuval claims) adopted and adapted by the rabbis when they a century or so later created the Passover Haggadah and Seder, Orr and Walther in my opinion effectively counter the Catholic and Orthodox teachings about the bread and the wine being or becoming Christ’s real body and blood. (Which would also argue against the Lutherans’ “consubstantiation” and some Reformed churches’ teachings that Christ is spiritually received in the bread and the wine of Communion.)

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Orr and Walther on I Corinthians

COMMENT

No subject has been more controversial in the church than the meaning of the Lord’s Supper. Not only were there deep differences in understanding between Roman Catholic and Reformation doctrines on this subject, but dispute about the precise meaning produced lasting divisions among Luther, Calvin, and Zwingli. Arguments about the metaphysical nature of Christ’s body and universal presence have been virulent down to the present day.

Modern efforts toward formulating an ecumenical theology have made slow progress on the question of “transsubstantiation, transsignification, or virtualism.”* The source of the disputes is in the idea that Jesus meant to provide a material means for physical or metaphysical consumption of his body—that he could miraculously supply in the sacrament a homeopathic quantum which would convey the full power of a union with his being. So the sacramental elements came to be subject to a special veneration because of their numinous power. The idea has been persistent, even when Christians do not agree on the definition of the relationship between the elements and Christ, since they are united in the conviction that the connection is real and special (note, for example, the treatment by Robertson and Plummer, 248–249).

Unity in the church is likely to remain out of reach as long as there is no consensus in this matter. The taboo view of the elements demands sacred officials to handle them, and the salvation of the recipient is in jeopardy if they are improperly received. This, then, involves discipline. So what should be the very sign and seal of the unity of the church becomes a perpetual cause of its disruption.

Thus the problem in the Corinthian church regarding the Lord’s Supper is a critical one for the church in all ages. 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.

Divisions existing at the Supper

Traditional interpretations of 1 Corinthians 11 have been wrong in many particulars because they have not been read with the Jewish practice of the common meal in view. Paul’s instruction begins with his chagrin, not that the Corinthians are profaning a holy rite, but that they are fragmenting a holy society. In the first four chapters of the epistle he demonstrated how seriously he regards schisms. With apparent resignation he accepts the inevitability of factions as a means of testing, but in no way does he approve the division that results from their practice in the celebration of the Lord’s Supper.

What is happening, he says, is that their assembling together is not to eat the Lord’s Supper but to eat their own. The accepted practice was to bring separate meals to the common place, but they were starting to eat before others arrived so that there was no common supper and no sharing. Since some of the members were very poor, they did not have enough to eat and were hungry after supper while the prosperous were sated, some beyond propriety. It is not the vicious quality of gluttony and drunkenness that occupies Paul’s attention at this point but the selfish indifference of each person or family to the needs and situation of the deprived and poor. There is no indication that he is concerned because they have not introduced the meal by a suitable liturgy. They have rushed into the meal upon private impulse and have drunk their own supplies of wine to the point of intoxication; and while Paul introduces the regulatory role of tradition in the next section, his introductory remonstrance has to do with the church’s indifference to the communal significance of what they are doing. Those with vigorous appetites and the means to satisfy them without the discipline of restraint imposed by the community setting should anticipate their incontinence by eating and drinking somewhat before they come to church.

To dine alone at church means to decline to join with the church in this great expression of common, Christian, social life; and it therefore manifests contempt for the whole assembly. Some members would be unable to come to the meeting place early because as slaves they could not leave their masters’ houses, and the free members who refuse to wait for them really shame them because their late arrival keeps them from full participation in the common life of the church. Paul recoils from this drastic abuse: they despise the church by making impossible a communal meal of the whole church. This is the situation which prompts him to cite the traditional origin of the supper practice.

The received tradition of the institution of the Supper

The tradition, which Paul received from the Lord, is recalled to show that the present abuses result from failing to continue the Master’s practice. The essential agreement with the Synoptic records is evidence that the apostle’s claim to dominical continuity is well founded, but it does not prejudice the interpretation of the tradition. Jesus gave thanks, then broke bread, and said, “This is my body for you.” All the church should be together to participate in the thanksgiving and to receive the bread which is broken for the whole company. Since every Jewish meal began by breaking bread, the whole meal is designated by the breaking of the bread. The thanksgiving is meant for the whole meal which followed. Thus the bread as such has no greater importance than it has as the first part of the meal to be distributed. It may be suggested initially, therefore, that identification of Christ with the food at the supper should probably not be confined to the bread if any such identification is to be made. This brings into question at the outset whether the passage can be interpreted to mean that the eating of the bread at the supper is actually a receiving of the body of Christ.

Jesus’ words, This is my body for you, have been exhaustively analyzed from earliest times. The greatest stress has been laid on the verb is with a great amount of attention also upon body. It has been disputed whether is should be interpreted “is like,” “represents,” “symbolizes,” “stands for,” “conveys,” or “means the same as”; and many theologians have insisted that it means “is identical with,” “is the same thing as,” or “has the same substance as.” It is remarkable that little attention has been given to the referent of this (Conzelmann, for example, does not discuss it). It has been almost unanimously agreed that this refers to bread; so the sentence is understood to read, “This bread is my body.” It is not surprising, therefore, that discriminate the body in vs. 29 came to refer to recognizing that the bread is not mere bread but is in some sense the presence and actual body of Christ; and this supports the liturgical and ecclesiastical regulations that developed about this understanding.

The neuter demonstrative this occurs also in the second part of the quotation: you are doing this for my remembrance. Because of the structure of the clauses this can hardly be construed by a single word or phrase of identity. It is curious, however, that it should occur twice where it is not precisely clear what the referent is in either case; so the sense of both clauses must carefully fit together. The word for do (poiein) is very common in both the Greek Old and New Testaments. In the Old Testament it translates two words (’āśāh and ’ābad) that are often used with various words for feast or meal (Gen 26:30; Exod 12:47, 48, 13:5, 23:16, 34:22; Deut 16:13; 2 Kings 23:21; Job 1:4; Dan 5:1; etc.); and in the New Testament it is used in similar contexts (Mark 6:21; Luke 14:12, 16; John 12:2; etc.). In the few instances in which the verb is used with “bread” in the Old Testament it has to do with baking or preparing. The sense here, then, may be connected with a meal or feast. The eating of meals as memorial observances was common among the Jews: Passover and Purim are examples enough. So this may be referred to the observance of the supper, and the action of the distribution of bread was the beginning of this meal as it was of common Jewish meals. The meal is participated in by all the assembled company as an appropriate recollection of Jesus Christ.

The reference of this to the eating of the meal together is grammatically possible, but the neuter gender cannot be used conversely to “prove” the reference. A common explanation for the neuter is that although this refers to bread, which is masculine, it has been assimilated to body, which is neuter. (The possibility that bread may be referred to by a neuter demonstrative because it is an object seems tenuous.) There is no clear case, however, elsewhere in Paul’s writings in which he uses touto to refer to a masculine noun outside the immediate clause; he regularly uses touto to refer to a clause, phrase, implied idea, or, of course, a neuter noun. (Two instructive uses are in Rom 13:11, where touto does refer to a masculine noun but is in close apposition, and Phil 1:22, where touto refers to an infinitive phrase and is not assimilated to the masculine noun in the predicate. On the other hand, the uses of hautē in 1 Cor 9:3 and 2 Cor 1:12 suggest assimilation; but the usages of touto are too independent to validate a comparison.) This usual general reference of touto suggests that in both instances in 11:24 it has to do with the circumstance just described, that is, the dedication of the meal, which in turn draws the disciples together into a table fellowship. This somehow is for you the body of Christ, and it is effective for his remembrance. Since the festival celebration includes action and idea, the notion is excluded that any particle of food is the body of Christ. (If Paul had wanted to convey that idea, his regular usage would have been to write, “This bread is my body”; cf. this bread in vs. 26, where reference to the body is pointedly missing.)

It is not possible to come to any helpful conclusion about the nature of the meal from the use of the word deipnos for “supper.” The word usually referred to a late afternoon meal (whence the appropriateness of the English “supper”). In the Bible it is never used to mean merely an act of eating: it refers to a meal, and its appropriateness for a festal meal is ambiguous. The more common way of speaking of a meal in the New Testament is by the expression “eat bread” (or “break bread”), metonymy for a whole meal (Matt 15:2; Mark 3:20; Luke 14:1; Acts 2:46; 2 Cor 3:8; 2 Thess 3:12; etc.).

Paul, then, is not concentrating on the thought of bread as distinct from the rest of the meal; but bread is discriminated from the cup that is to be drunk. In the Jewish meal the cup had a special significance because it was received with a thanksgiving separate from that offered with the bread that instituted the meal. The latter was thanksgiving for the whole meal; the thanksgiving over the cup, coming at the end of the meal, tied the whole together.

The corporate significance of the meal has already been introduced at 10:16 (cf. supra, pp. 250–253). The term “body” was applicable to the Passover societies that were formed for the festival; the group joining in the meal became a new kind of entity with such a close binding connection that all of the persons are members of each other (an idea which Paul develops in 12:12–26). This idea grips his mind, for he elsewhere calls the church the body of Christ (Rom 12:5; 1 Cor 12:13, 27; Eph 1:22–23, 4:4, 12, 16; Col 1:18, 2:17, 3:15). He thought of the body of Christ as present, active, and purified for his manifestation to the world after he was no longer present in the flesh. The body in which he is now present is the body of believers. Paul regularly refers to the physical, historical existence of Jesus Christ on earth by the term “flesh” (sarx; cf. Rom 1:3, 9:5; 2 Cor 5:16; Col 1:22; etc. The only possible exception is Rom 7:4, and the intent there is possibly a double meaning.) Body, then, in this passage may be understood to refer to the church, here recognized in its chief act of common worship, the Lord’s Supper.

Paul’s regular contrast to “flesh” is “blood” (1 Cor 15:50; Gal 1:16; etc.). It is significant, then, that here the contrast is between body and cup. (In this respect Paul makes a customary Greek distinction: “blood” corresponds to “flesh,” which is living tissue, whereas “body” means the entire organism.) The cup indicates the means by which believers accept the new covenant that is inaugurated by the death of Christ. Blood in this context represents Christ’s death (cf. Rom 3:25; Col 1:20; etc.; this is in keeping with the Old Testament idea in Lev 17:11, 14). So the cup refers to the sacrificial destiny of Christ, which brought about a new covenant (cf. cup-words attributed to Jesus: Matt 20:22; Mark 14:36; John 18:11), and one who drinks the cup receives the destiny made possible by the new covenant. Thus the passage indicates that the Supper of the Lord constitutes a body of believers who receive the meal as his followers and who receive the cup as indication of conscious participation in the benefits of the new covenant.

It is not difficult to see how Paul’s summary statement in vs. 26 contributed to the cultic-sacramental understanding of the bread and wine: as often as easily becomes a rite. The conditional sentences of vss. 24 and 26 are parallel, however; and if the word in 25 refers to the context of the meal, so should 26. The action for Christ’s remembrance is extended to announcing the death of the Lord until he comes, thus specifying the meaning of the cup and placing the remembrance in the ongoing worship and life of the church. The Passover setting is not to the fore at this point, but Paul is rather emphasizing how each common meal is to become a recollection and proclamation of the gospel.

Judgment from unworthy participation in the Supper

The traditional words of institution are recited as supporting evidence for Paul’s reaction against the behavior of the Corinthians at their common suppers. Verse 27, then, resumes the main discussion (So); and the eating and drinking in an unworthy manner refer to the mistreatment of persons present and not to misinterpretation in liturgical procedures. The indictment concerns injuring the body of Christ by breaking up the unity of the partnership (cf. 10:16–17); and the specific instance is the insult against the poor (11:21–22), which is in fact directed against the church. The erring persons do not accept the new covenant (vs. 25), which was brought about by the death (blood) of Christ; and thus the guilt is against the church and the Christ who died.

Accordingly, self-examination is enjoined in order to avert judgment that may be incurred by eating and drinking with an undiscriminating attitude. If the body means the people of the church celebrating the supper together, judgment comes because they do not discriminate the divine nature of this fellowship and are guilty of splitting it apart and mistreating its humbler members.

There is a parallel connection between vss. 29 and 31. There is no reason to differentiate the judgment in the two verses; so the objects of discrimination are evidently the same—the body and ourselves. Thus, the body of the Lord equals ourselves, in this context distinguished by the common participation in eating his supper. Failure to discriminate his body is the same as failure to discriminate ourselves, and this means failure to recognize that people together in the church constitute the very presence of Christ and are to be treated appropriately.

The identity of the church with the body of Christ leads Paul to attribute physical problems of the Christians to the violation of this body. This violation hampers and restricts the redemptive and healing nature of the fellowship wherein the poor are fed, the lonely are befriended, the sick are visited, the grieving are comforted, and sinners are forgiven. Such a redemptive fellowship can produce both spiritual and physical health while the breaking of the fellowship may cause the converse. So serious is this situation in Corinth that Paul posits a connection between it and the death rate there—a relationship that is difficult to interpret except in very general terms.

The judgment is of the nature of discipline, not of final condemnation. Condemnation has been removed by the death of Christ, but selfish and sinful perversion of the supper produces damaging results that may serve as corrective influence toward repentance. (Perhaps 5:5 is an extreme example.)

Summary instruction

The particular nature of the whole discussion and the emphasis upon the divisive propensity of the Corinthians is reiterated by the concluding sentences. To wait for one another is an evidence of discriminating the body, of recognizing that in the common partaking of the supper all the people are assembled as members of Christ’s body. Christians are not to allow their selfish appetites to endanger respect for the holy people who are participating in the new humanity. Other matters could await a personal visit from Paul; this matter is so urgent that it should be put in order at once.

As postscript it may be noted that failure to follow Paul’s principal concern in this passage and a false emphasis derived from misinterpretation of its details has produced in the history of the Christian church precisely the fault against which the apostle wrote to the Corinthians.

* Cf. The Common Catechism: A Book of Christian Faith (New York, 1975), in which “The Sacraments” are treated in Part Five, “Questions in Dispute between the Churches.”

William F. Orr and James Arthur Walther, I Corinthians: A New Translation, Introduction, with a Study of the Life of Paul, Notes, and Commentary, vol. 32, Anchor Yale Bible (New Haven; London: Yale University Press, 1976), 268–275.