The Canadian Red Ensign

The Canadian Red Ensign
Showing posts with label Kallistos Ware. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kallistos Ware. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 4, 2024

The Bible and the Church Part Two: What Belongs in the Bible?

In Part One we considered the dilemma raised, usually in the context of the “Catholic v. Protestant” dispute, about whether the Bible gave us the Church or the Church gave us the Bible.  Neither of these, we argued, is correct, it is rather that God gave us both the Bible and the Church, or better yet that God gave the Bible to the Church.  The alternatives that the popular either/or meme present contain two different versions of what is basically the same error, the error of interjecting an intermediary between God and an earthly authority that He has directly established.  In the one, the Bible is interjected as intermediary between God and His Church, in the other the Church is interjected as intermediary between God and His Word.  We saw that the Bible itself testifies to God the Son having given authority directly to His Church and to the governors He set over her, which authority was exercised before a word of the New Testament Scriptures was put down in ink.  In Part Two we will consider the implications of our position for the question of what belongs in the Bible.

 

The question of what belongs in the Bible has historically been treated as two different questions, the question of canon and the question of text.  The question of canon is the question of which books belong in the Bible.  Do the books of Maccabees belong in the Old Testament or the book of Revelation in the New Testament?  These are examples of this question.  The question of text is the question what words belong in the Bible.  In 1 Timothy 3:16, for example, the Authorized Bible reads “And without controversy great is the mystery of godliness: God was manifest in the flesh, justified in the Spirit, seen of angels, preached unto the Gentiles, believed on in the world, received up into glory.”  The word “God” in this verse translates Θεός which is found in most Greek manuscripts of 1 Timothy.  A few have the relative pronoun ὃς (“who”) instead, and a few others have ὃ (which).  Which word did St. Paul originally write?  This is the question of text.  It should be apparent that while there are practical reasons for treating these as two separate questions they are really two aspects of the same question of what belongs in the Bible.

 

It is important to recognize that canon and text are two sides of the same question because this immediately exposes the fallacy that has been at the heart of the critical approach to the question of text for at least the last two centuries.  This is the idea that the original text of the Scriptures can be discovered and reproduced by using the scientific techniques employed for similar purposes on other ancient texts while disregarding or treating as of very low importance what the Church has received and passed on as the sacred text.  In the nineteenth century, textual critics allowed the age of a handful of manuscripts, primarily the fourth century uncials Codex א‎ or Sinaiticus and Codex B or Vaticanus, to persuade them to accept a large number of New Testament readings that were found only in these ancient manuscripts and not in the text that had been read as Scripture in Churches throughout the world for two thousand years.  In the twentieth century, this exaggerated emphasis on manuscript age was dropped but replaced by something worse, the eclectic theory which favoured an artificial text not found in any ancient manuscript but cut and pasted post-modern style from every manuscript text type.  Imagine what the results would look like if someone were to address the question of canon in this way.  The eclectic theory, if applied to the question of the New Testament canon, would give you a New Testament that excludes books from the homologoumena (1), includes books from the pseudopigrapha (2), and looks radically different from the New Testament historically accepted as canonical throughout the Church.  The reason the question of canon is not treated in this manner is because the concept of canon has no meaning apart from that of a list of the writings a faith community has received as its authoritative Scriptures.  Acknowledging that the question of canon and the question of text are two aspects of one question is the first step towards acknowledging that the “scientific” approach to the question of text is just as nonsensical as such an approach would be to the question of canon.

 

If, therefore, the question of what belongs in the Bible, both in terms of canon and text, cannot be answered by applying “scientific” (3) techniques that are used for other ancient texts but only by what the Church has traditionally received as Scripture does that not mean that the Church did give us the Bible, that the Church is intermediary between God and the Bible after all?

 

It does not.  The Bible is the Bible, the authoritative Word of God, because it was written under divine inspiration.  This does not mean inspiration in the sense that any writer or artist may be inspired when the idea for a creative work comes to them.  It means that Holy Spirit supervised the human writers of the Bible to that their words were “breathed out by God” (θεόπνευστος, the word used by St. Paul behind “given by inspiration of God” in 2 Tim. 3:16).  The mechanics of this, the how, need not concern us here.  The important thing is that it is this kind of inspiration, being words breathed out by God Himself, which makes the Scriptures, the Scriptures.  The Church cannot impart this quality to whatever writings she so chooses.  She is the recipient of the Scriptures, God is their Author.  Again, God gave the Bible to the Church.

 

As the recipient of the Scriptures, however, it belongs to the Church to recognize them and to distinguish them from other writings which, however excellent or not they may be, are not the very words of God.  The principle involved here is that of “My sheep hear my voice” (Jn. 10:27).  This raises the question, of course, of how the Church recognizes the voice of the Shepherd in the Scriptures.  That it is through the ministry of the Holy Spirit as promised by Jesus in the Farwell Discourse we can all agree on but this is not an answer to what the question is really asking.  Does the Holy Spirit impart the recognition of the voice of God to each believer individually or to the Church collectively?

 

That it is not individually is evident from the fact that canon and text have been subjects of disagreement among Christians.  Evident, that is, except to those who take the borderline fanatical position that only those who agree with them are true believers.  The answer, therefore is that it is to the Church collectively that the Holy Spirit imparts recognition of the Scriptures.  This still does not completely answer the question of how, however, but it allows us to phrase more precisely what it is that we are looking for.  How does the Church express her recognition of the Scriptures?

 

The history of how the canon of the New Testament came to be accepted provides some illumination on this point.  The canon of the New Testament is far more settled among Christians than the canon of the Old Testament.   Most of the debates over whether such-and-such a book belonged in the New Testament took place in the first three centuries of the Church before the first ecumenical council and most of the New Testament was never seriously contested.  The twenty-seven books recognized today have been pretty much unanimously agreed upon since the end of the fourth century.  While this was the century that saw the first two ecumenical councils, that is to say, councils that spoke authoritatively for the whole Church rather than just for a diocese, province, or region, it was not these that settled the New Testament canon.  A regional synod in Rome, held in 382 A.D. one year after the second ecumenical council was held in Constantinople, published a list of the books of both Testaments.  Similar synods were held in Hippo in 393 A.D. and in Carthage in 397 A.D. and these also published lists of the Scriptural books.  Even these acts, however, merely acknowledged formally what the Church had already recognized as her New Testament Scriptures by her reading of them as such liturgically in her services.

 

In the fifth century, St. Vincent of Lérins published a canon – not a list of Scriptural books but a canon in the term’s basic meaning, a rule or measuring stick – for determining whether an interpretation of Scripture was Catholic, i.e., belonging to the true Church as a whole, or heretical, i.e., erroneous and particular to a sect which in its error has broken away from the whole or Catholic Church.  He wrote:

 

Moreover, in the Catholic Church itself, all possible care must be taken, that we hold that faith which has been believed everywhere, always, by all. For that is truly and in the strictest sense Catholic, which, as the name itself and the reason of the thing declare, comprehends all universally. This rule we shall observe if we follow universality, antiquity, consent. We shall follow universality if we confess that one faith to be true, which the whole Church throughout the world confesses; antiquity, if we in no wise depart from those interpretations which it is manifest were notoriously held by our holy ancestors and fathers; consent, in like manner, if in antiquity itself we adhere to the consentient definitions and determinations of all, or at the least of almost all priests and doctors. (4)

 

While St. Vincent had the interpretation of Scripture in mind when he wrote this his rule and tests apply remarkably well to the Church’s recognition of her Scriptures as well.  Perhaps the two matters are not as distinct as we are accustomed to think.  St. Vincent was looking for a rule to distinguish heretics from the Catholic faith and an important disagreement between the two in the centuries before the first ecumenical council was over canon.  The heresiarch Marcion of Sinope had published his own list of Scriptural books which rejected the whole Old Testament and most of the New Testament and consisted of ten of St. Paul’s epistles (nine genuine and a pseudopigraphon purporting to be the epistle to the Laodiceans mentioned in Colossians 4:16 which was probably just another description of the epistle we know as Ephesians) and a bowdlerized version of St. Luke’s Gospel.  The twenty-seven books of the New Testament canon had been received as Scripture and recognized and read liturgically as such, unanimously in the case of the twenty homolougomena, generally but with disputes in the case of the seven antilegomena, since the end of the first century (antiquity), by the Apostolic and Catholic Church throughout the ancient world (universality), and the acknowledgement of this by a number of local and regional synods from the end of the fourth century on provided the final test (consent).

 

That the canon of the Old Testament has been much less unanimously agreed upon needs some explaining as it is rather counterintuitive.  The Old Testament, after all, consists of the Scriptures that the Church inherited from ancient Israel.  One might expect from that, that there would be no dispute over them, because the Church had received an already established canon.  It was not as simple as that, however.  While Judaism today has a canon for its Tanakh that is identical with the Old Testament acknowledged by Protestants and the protocanonical Old Testament of other Christians except that they are organized differently in the Tanakh, and counted as 24 books rather than 39, (5) Israel was not so united on this matter at the coming of Christ.  There were numerous sects, one of which accepted only the Torah or Pentateuch, the five books of Moses.  This was the sect of the Sadducees, prominent in the upper class of Israel.  They justified their rejection of the doctrine of a future resurrection on the basis of their limited canon and in a famous incident recorded in the Synoptic Gospels, Jesus answered them by proving the resurrection from the books they accepted.  Interestingly, the story they told Jesus as the beginning of the interview as the basis of the question with which they tried to trap Him, seems to be a trimmed-down version of the book of Tobit.  The Scriptures that passed over into the Church as the Old Testament were obviously more than the Readers’ Digest Condensed Version of the Tanakh used by the Sadducees.   Furthermore, while Judaism had to redefine itself out of necessity after the destruction of the Second Temple and this redefinition meant that the new rabbinic Judaism was essentially made in the image of a single Second Temple period sect, the Pharisees, difference as to the canon persisted in Judaism long after this point.  (6) This sectarian dispute within Second Temple Judaism was not the only complicating factor, however.

 

Israel’s Scriptures were for the most part originally written in Hebrew.  The Babylonian Captivity, however, had interfered with the generational transmission of the Hebrew language, enough so that in the Second Temple period it was well on its way to becoming a language of the specialist, of the scribes and rabbis.  Aramaic, a dialect of the Syriac family of languages, had become the vernacular tongue in Israel by the coming of Christ.  Part of the book of Daniel was written in Aramaic.  It was for this reason that the Targumim were produced. (7)  Therefore, even before the conversion of Cornelius and the first missionary journey of SS Paul and Barnabas, when the Church’s membership was still entirely Jewish, it was likely only a small minority which could speak or read Hebrew.  The common tongue among the early Jewish Christians was Aramaic and when the Gentile converts began swelling the numbers of the Church the common tongue was Greek.  This is the language in which the New Testament, with the exception of the no-longer extant original Hebrew or Aramaic version of the Gospel According to St. Matthew, was written.  Two centuries before Christ a translation of the Hebrew Scriptures into this language had been commissioned for the Alexandrian library by Ptolemy II Philadelphus of Egypt.  This translation, called the Septuagint or the LXX after the number of translators, is more often than not what is quoted as the Old Testament in the New Testament.  It was in this form that the Church inherited the Old Testament from Israel.  The LXX, however, contained more books than what post-Temple Judaism recognizes as its Tanakh.  Ironically, among these are the books of Maccabees which provide the historical account of the events behind a major Jewish annual celebration, Hanukkah.   That the books which Christians and Jews share belong to the canon of the Old Testament is as agreed upon among orthodox Christians as are the twenty-seven books of the New Testament.  It is over these other Old Testament books that there is disagreement.

 

In the sixteenth century, two extreme positions were taken on these books.  The Roman Catholic Church in the Council of Trent (1545-1563) declared certain of these books to be of the same character of and on par with the universally recognized Old Testament books.  In response to the Council of Trent, certain Protestants (the Reformed and the separatist sects), threw the books out of the Bible altogether.   The Protestant error was greater than that of Rome because it was based on the idea that the Roman Catholic Church in the Council of Trent had “added’ these books to the Bible in violation of the prohibition of Rev. 22:18.   If that were true, however, the books would not be found in the Bibles of any Church that had broken fellowship with Rome before the Reformation.  The opposite is the case.  The Bibles used by these Churches include more of the extra books than the ones “canonized” by Rome at Trent.  The books “added” by Rome in Trent are seven, Tobit, Judith, Baruch (which John Calvin frequently quoted as Scripture), Ecclesiasticus, the Wisdom of Solomon, 1 and 2 Maccabees.  Trent also gave the Roman Church’s endorsement to the long versions of Esther and Daniel (the LXX and other old translations of these books include additional material to what is found in the standard Hebrew versions, for example, the stories of Susannah and Bel and the Dragon in Daniel). The Eastern Orthodox Church, which broke fellowship with Rome in 1054 A.D., includes these and also what it calls 2 and 3 Esdras (these are what are called 1 and 2 Esdras in the Apocrypha section of the Authorized Bible, what the Orthodox call 1 Esdras is what we call Ezra and Nehemiah) (8), 3 Maccabees, the Epistle of Jeremiah, the Prayer of Manasseh, and Psalm 151.  The Eastern Orthodox print these books as part of the Old Testament in their Bibles like the Roman Catholics do with their more limited deuterocanon.  The Eastern Orthodox do not view these books the same way that post-Tridentine Roman Catholics do, however.  Protopresbyter Michael Pomazansky writes:

 

The Church recognizes thirty-eight books of the Old Testament.  After the example of the Old Testament Church, several of these books are joined to form a single book, bringing the number to twenty-two books, according to the number of letters in the Hebrew alphabet.  These books, which were entered at some time into the Hebrew canon, are called “canonical.”  To them are joined a group of “non-canonical” books – that is, those which were not included in the Hebrew canon because they were written after the closing of the canon of the sacred Old Testament books.  The Church accepts these latter books also as useful and instructive and in antiquity assigned them for instructive reading not only in homes but also in churches, which why they have been called “ecclesiastical.”  The Church includes these books in a single volume of the Bible together with the canonical books.  As a source of the teaching of the faith, the Church puts them in a secondary place and looks on them as an appendix to the canonical books. Certain of them are so close in merit to the Divinely inspired books that, for example, in the 85th Apostolic Canon the three books of Maccabees and the book of Joshua the son of Sirach [this is the same book as Ecclesiasticus, it is also often just called Sirach – GTN] are numbered together with the canonical books, and concerning all of them together it is said that they are “venerable and holy.” However, this means only that they were respected in the ancient Church; but a distinction between the canonical and non-canonical books of the Old Testament has always been maintained in the Church. (9) (10)

 

One of the oldest translations of the Bible is the Syriac Peshitta.  That it is the Bible of Syriac Christians, whether they belong to the Assyrian Church of the East that rejected the condemnation of Nestorius, to the Syriac-speaking of the Oriental Orthodox Churches that rejected the Definition of Chalcedon, or Syriac Christians in fellowship with either Rome or Constantinople, testifies to its age.  (11)  The Peshitta includes the Eastern Orthodox deuterocanon and some additional books as well such as 2 Baruch (also called the Apocalypse of Baruch) and the Letter of Baruch (sometimes included as a separate book sometimes as the ending of 2 Baruch), and the Psalms of Solomon. 

 

Clearly, therefore, the Roman Catholic Church did not add anything to the Bible in the Council of Trent.  If anything, it could be accused of removing books from the Bible.  The additional Esdras books, 3 Maccabees, the Epistle of Jeremiah, the Prayer of Manasseh, and the 151st Psalm are found in the LXX, the form in which the Old Testament was known and received by most of the early Church and in the Peshitta, the ancient Syriac version that is the traditional Bible of the Christians who speak dialects of the language-family to which the Aramaic of the earliest Christians belongs.  Why did Rome not include these?  Simply because they were left out of the Latin Vulgate by St. Jerome. 

Before St. Jerome the Bible had been translated into Latin a number of times by individuals of varying degrees of competence.  These translations are all lumped together under the label Vetus Latina or Old Italic.  In the fourth century, Damasus I of Rome had given St. Jerome the task of cleaning up the Latin translation of the Gospels and by the end of the century this had expanded into revising the entire Latin Bible into what is now known as the Latin Vulgate. He completed the work early in the fifth century.  When he turned to the Old Testament he decided to translate directly from Hebrew into Latin rather than from the LXX.  St. Augustine of Hippo famously took him to task for this and it was in the context of the debate over St. Jerome’s controversial decision that the first real argument about the deuterocanonical books arose.  St. Jerome wanted to translate the Old Testament directly from Hebrew because it was originally written in Hebrew and he believed it better to translate from the original than from another translation.  This meant relying either upon rabbinic Judaism or Origen’s Hexapla, two columns of which were the Hebrew Old Testament in Hebrew characters and transliterated into Greek characters, and while St. Jerome did consult Origen’s magnus opus in the library in Caesaraa, he also sought out the rabbis, believing them to the be the guardians of the sacred text.  This belief led him to adopt the view, at least for a period, that the deuterocanonical books did not belong in the Old Testament (even though the rabbis were not of one mind on that subject, see note 6).  He was the first to misapply the term apocrypha to these books.  The handful of others who shared his view that they were not properly part of the Old Testament were more cautious in their terminology since these books had been read liturgically in the Church since the earliest centuries and so called them “ecclesiastical books.”  Eventually St. Jerome was either persuaded of his error or at least prevailed upon to translate the deuterocanon and he did, at least for the books later named in the Council of Trent. 

 

Rome did err on this point at the Council of Trent, but it was in the way in which she frequently errs, by imposing a dogmatic definition where none was necessary and where it did more harm than good.  The books she named had been part of the Old Testament in the various versions such as the LXX and Peshitta in which it had been received by Christians since the earliest centuries of the Church, along with several books she did not name.  The Church had recognized and received them as part of her Bible all along but not as being on the same level as the books universally accepted by both Christians and Jews.  There was no good reason to eliminate the distinction between the two classes of Old Testament books and her purpose in eliminating this distinction for some of the second tier of books but not for others was that she was declaring the Latin Vulgate to be the standard Bible for all Christians.


This was a foolish move on Rome’s part but the Protestant response of removing the deuterocanonical books from the Bible entirely was much worse.  The pre-Tridentine Protestant approach, while not without its problems, was sounder and mercifully was preserved in the Anglican Formularies.  When the Authorized Bible was published in 1611, the Eastern Orthodox deuterocanon (except 3 Maccabees and Psalm 151) was included in a section entitled “Apocrypha” between the two Testaments.  (12) The title of the section is extremely misleading and unfortunate.  “Apocrypha” is from ἀπόκρυφος which means “hidden away, secret, concealed” and in the early Church was applied to texts which were not to be read liturgically in Church and which Christians were discouraged from reading privately which was decidedly not the case with the deuterocanon which were dubbed the “Ecclesiastical Books” precisely because they were to be read in Church alongside the undisputed canon.  In the same paragraph of his Easter Letter, where a line excluding the Wisdom of Solomon, Ecclesiasticus, Judith, and Tobit from the canon (as well as Esther – not just the Greek additions) that is often cited out of context by Protestant apologists to claim him for their side, St. Athanasius spoke of the apocrypha as a different class of writing altogether. (13)  The Book of Common Prayer includes readings from these books in its lectionary for daily Morning and Evening Prayer.  The Articles of Religion, the final version of which was passed in 1571 less than a decade after the close of the Council of Trent, while excluding the extra books from the canon of Scripture, says of them “the Church doth read for example of life and instruction of manners; but yet doth it not apply them to establish any doctrine” citing St. Jerome (spelled Hierome in the article) as an authority, and listing the books. (14)  Except that the Article’s wording could be taken as making a nonsensical distinction between “The Bible” and “Scripture” rather than between “canonical” and “non-canonical” books of the Bible/Scripture, this is not that far from the Eastern Orthodox view as explained by Pomazansky, (15) and the Eastern Orthodox view on this as on many other matters is a good guide as to the actual Catholic or universal Christian view prior to the Reformation.  The words “doth it not apply them to establish any doctrine” does not mean that the books cannot be cited in support of a doctrine.  It means that they cannot be relied upon to prove a doctrine, i.e., you cannot say “X is so, because Judith says X” if Judith is your only authority for X.  In other words, they cannot be the first and only authority for a doctrine. (16)

 

Now that we have seen why there is ongoing disagreement over the Old Testament canon even though the New Testament has been universally agreed upon since the fourth century (which merely saw the formalization of what had long been agreed upon in practice) let us apply the principles of the Vincentian canon to the matter.  The books which Christians and Jews agree upon obviously pass the tests of antiquity, universality, and consent.  They have only ever been disputed by heretics like Marcion and the Gnostics.  They have been clearly received and recognized as Scripture by the Church.  The books which are found only in the Syriac Peshitta but not in either the Jewish Tanakh or the LXX may pass the test of antiquity but clearly fail the test of universality.  The same can be said of books that are unique to other regional versions of the Old Testament, for example, the books of Jubilees and Enoch (17) in the Ethiopian Old Testament, and the three books of Maccabees in the same which are different books from those called by the same name found in other Bibles.  The books which are called deuterocanonical by the Roman Catholics, deuterocanonical or non-canonical (18) by traditional Eastern Orthodox like Pomozansky, and Apocrypha by Protestants whether they retain them in their Bibles (Anglicans and Lutherans) or throw them out (other Protestants), however, seem clearly to pass all three tests.  They belong to the translations in which the early Church which could not speak or read Hebrew (even most of the original Jewish members) received the Old Testament (antiquity), and were read liturgically alongside the unquestioned books in the Church which is why even those such as Rufinus who agreed with St. Jerome in excluding them from the Old Testament proper called them “ecclesiastical” rather than “apocryphal”, and so they are included in the Bibles of all the ancient Churches and not just the Roman Catholic (universality) and in the ancient canon lists of local and regional synods including those in which the Church’s recognition of the twenty-seven books of her New Testament, long established in practice, were formalized at the end of the fourth century (consent). 

 

The sane principles for determining what the Church has received and recognized as her Scriptures in terms of canon apply as well to determining what she has received and recognized as her Scriptures in terms of text.  While the only lingering dispute over canon pertains to the Old Testament textual arguments tend to concentrate on the New Testament.  There is a superabundance of manuscript evidence for the New Testament in its original tongue and while one might think that would place the text beyond question, which is in fact the case for the vast majority of the New Testament, it has exacerbated argument over the small number of loci where it is otherwise.

 

Nineteenth century textual criticism and the theory that informed it must be rejected.  It discarded the tests of universality and consent and tried to establish the text of the New Testament based on antiquity alone.  This was the great scholarly temptation of the time.  Constantin von Tischendorf had discovered what is now called Codex Sinaiticus in 1844 in St. Catherine’s Monastery at the foot of Mt. Sinai.  This vellum codex dated to the fourth century to the same period as Codex Vaticanus.  Variant textual readings tend to occur together in text types or families, of which there are basically three, the Byzantine, Alexandrian, and Western.  While the vast majority of manuscripts have the Byzantine text type, Codex Sinaiticus and Vaticanus are Alexandrian.  This agreement of these two, which were a century older than the next oldest comparable manuscript, Codex Alexandrinus which Ecumenical Patriarch Cyril Lucaris had presented to King Charles I in the seventeenth century and which was part Byzantine, part Alexandrian, persuaded Tischendorf himself and other Biblical scholars of the day such as S. P. Tragelles that this text type had to be closer to that of the autographa than the Byzantine.  B. F. Westcott and F. J. A. Hort took this idea to the next level by claiming that the Sinaiticus/Vaticanus text was not Alexandrian but “neutral.”  This was their operating theory in preparing their 1881 edition of The New Testament in the Original Greek.  Hort’s introduction, published as a second volume the following year, outlines the principles of their theory.  Setting aside universality and consent for antiquity alone, however, leaves you with one out of three witnesses.  Moreover, that witness is one that will be shared by any text that passes all three Vincentian texts.  The Byzantine text type is found in the New Testament quotations in the writings of the Greek Fathers from the same period in which Sinaiticus and Vaticanus were written and so at least matches their text-type in antiquity.  While some conservative scholars in the twentieth-century argued for a text derived from the Byzantine on the grounds that the readings found in the majority of manuscripts are the most likely to represent the original text one could argue that this is the same mistake as was made by Tischendorf, Westcott, and Hort, merely substituting universality for antiquity as the sole witness. (19)   That being said, the Byzantine is the text type that can pass all three Vincentian tests.  It is attested by ancient sources (antiquity), is attested by the majority of Greek manuscripts and for the most part by the Syriac Peshitta which is why Hort called it the “Syrian Text” (universality), and it is attested in the writings of the Fathers, the ancient lectionaries, and its ongoing use as the liturgical text of the Eastern Orthodox Churches (consent). (20)

 

The reason that it is important that the text pass all three Vincentian tests is because these tests tell us what the Church has recognized as the text of the Scriptures God has given her.  God gave the Bible to His Church and not to academe and it is to the Church and not academe that He has given to recognize His Word in both canon and text.  To take books out of the Bible that all the ancient Churches recognize as part of the Bible and accuse one of those ancient Churches (Rome) of adding them even though all the Churches that broke fellowship with Rome prior to the Reformation have them and to do so on grounds that basically all reduce to “Judaism doesn’t recognize them” on the naïve assumption that the reconstructed post-Temple rabbinic Judaism that divorced itself from Christianity in the first two centuries and redefined itself based on its rejection of Jesus Christ accurately reflects the views of the Judaism of the Israel of the Second Temple Period in which Christ came even though that Judaism was clearly not absolutely settled on the matter a century after St. Jerome first tried to claim them as an authority in this way is bad form.  So is substituting a New Testament text that has been reconstructed either on the basis of the age of a handful of really old manuscripts or worse of a post-modern eclecticism that provides a text not found in any manuscript for that which has been in constant use in the lectionaries and lectern Bibles in the Church since ancient times.

 

The Eastern Orthodox believe that the LXX is an inspired translation of the Old Testament. (21)  The Syriac speaking Christians of various theologies and ecclesiastical affiliations think the same of both Testaments of the Peshitta.  The Roman Catholic Church more or less dogmatically declared this to be the case of the Latin Vulgate in the Council of Trent.  All of these claims are treated with derision by those who think the historical-critical method is the only proper way of interpreting Scripture even though Jesus and St. Paul very clearly felt free to ignore it in their exposition of the Old Testament and who speak in the loftiest terms of the inspiration and infallibility of Scripture while limiting this to the autographa that we do not possess and denying it to the apographa which we do have. (22)  It would seem closer to the truth, however, to say that all of these claims are true.  At the first Whitsunday, the birthday of the Christian Church, when the Holy Ghost descended upon the Apostles and they spoke to the multitude gathered to Jerusalem from throughout the Diaspora for Shavuot, the Feast of Weeks, everyone heard the Gospel they preached in their own languages.  Christ’s Church is Catholic, that is, universal, drawn from every kindred and tribe and nation.  This being the case, it is hardly incredible that God in His providence would ensure that His Church receive authoritative versions of His Word in all her major language groups.  On the contrary, this is precisely what we ought to expect to have happened.  It did not end with the Latin Vulgate, however.  Dr. Luther’s translation of the Bible has been the definitive German Bible for five centuries.  The Authorized Bible has been the same in English for almost as long.  Both of these are classical Protestant Bibles, in which the Deuterocanon was removed from the Old Testament but not from the Bible.  The New Testaments of both are translations of the Textus Receptus, a term that refers to the editions of the Greek New Testament put out by men such as the Christian Renaissance humanist Desiderius Erasmus and the Genevan scholar and rigid predestinarian Theodore Beza.  While Erasmus and Beza have been criticized by the later “scientific” schools of textual criticism for the way they went about preparing their editions the manuscripts they worked with at least contained a text representative of that which had been in use in the Church.

 

This is why, although textual scholars may snipe at Erasmus, Beza, et al. for such and such readings in their printed Greek texts, and expositors may point out ways in which this and that verse of the Authorized Bible might have been translated better, we do not need to answer each and every one of these.  For all their criticism, however right or wrong, the Authorized Bible’s position as the English Bible is secure.  None of the plethora of translations that we have been inundated with over the last century or so have come close to supplanting it nor can it be supplanted.  Just as there were multiple Greek Old Testaments (hence Origen’s Hexapla) but one, the LXX, that was clearly authoritative and definitive, and just as one definitive Syriac and Latin translation emerged after previous inferior attempts, so translations from Tyndale, through the Great and Bishop’s Bibles on the part of the Church, and the Geneva Bible on the part of the proto-Puritans ultimately led up to the Authorized Bible which has shaped English language, culture, and religion, Church and non-conformist alike, for four centuries and which is clearly the only English Bible on par with the LXX/Byzantine Text, Syriac Peshitta, Latin Vulgate and Luther’s Bible and the only English Bible that will ever be on par with these. It is in Bibles such as these that God’s Holy Catholic Church in her various provinces and tongues has recognized the written Word which her God has given her.

 

Recommended Reading

 

Letis, Theodore P. The Ecclesiastical Text: Text Criticism, Biblical Authority and the Popular Mind. New York: Just and Sinner Publications, 1997, 2018.

 

 (1)   This term, from Eusebius of Caesarea, (Ecclesiastical History, 3.25.2) refers to the books of the New Testament the canonicity of which was never subject to serious dispute in the early centuries.  These include the four Gospels, Acts, the epistles of St. Paul, except Hebrews, and the first epistles of both SS Peter and John.  The seven other books which are acknowledged as canonical throughout the Church but which were seriously disputed in the early centuries, Eusebius dubbed the antilegomena (Ecclesiastical History, 3.25.3).

(2)   “Falsely inscribed.”  In the broader sense this term is applied to any writing that is recognized to have been written by someone other than the author to whom it is attributed.  The Son of Porthos, for example, is a pseudopigraphon of Alexandre Dumas père.  It was published under his name, but written after his death by Paul Mahalin.  In the more specific sense that is relevant here it refers to works of this sort that purport to have been written by an Apostle or prophet but which have never been regarded as Scripture by the Church.  Examples include the Gospels of Peter, Barnabas and Judas.

(3)   I place “scientific” in scare quotes because some of these techniques are of dubious scientific value even when applied to other texts.  There is, for example, the technique of conjectural emendation, in which all source manuscripts are regarded as corrupt for a particular reading and the critic supplies what he thinks the uncorrupted original might have been.  It does not seem right to describe this as a scientific technique.  For a less extreme example, consider the fifth line of the first book of Homer’s Iliad which reads "οἰωνοῖσί τε πᾶσι, Διὸς δ’ ἐτελείετο βουλή”.  This means “and all kinds of birds, and the will of Zeus was fulfilled.”  The first part of this line completes the thought begun in the second half of the previous line, about how the “selves”, in this case meaning bodies, of the heroes who had been hurled down to Hades due to the wrath of Achilles, had become the spoil of dogs. Some think, however, that the word δαῖτα (feast) should appear in the line in the place of πᾶσι (all, every).  This is unquestionably the better reading in terms of literary quality.  This makes the thought read “and themselves the spoil of dogs and a feast for birds” rather than “and themselves the spoil of dogs and all kinds of birds.”  In both English and Greek this is an obvious improvement.  The metre of the verse does not indicate which reading is to be preferred as it is unaffected by the change.  There is no direct evidence for the reading in extent manuscripts of the Iliad, however.  There is indirect evidence in that Athenaeus of Naucratus, a Greek grammarian from the reign of Marcus Aurelius, criticizes Zenodotus, the first librarian of Alexandria, for including the reading in his edition of the Iliad (The Deipnosophists, Book I, Epitome, 1.21).  There is also an apparent allusion to this passage of the Iliad in lines 800-801 of Aeschylus’ Ἱκέτιδες (Supplices – the Suppliant Maidens) that would seem to support the alternative reading.  This is not very strong evidence.  Athenaeus is criticizing Zenodotus for a reading that he takes to be Zenodotus’ emendation of the text.  The allusion in Aeschylus is not a direct quotation.  Preferring the δαῖτα reading on the basis of its literary superiority over the πᾶσι reading is therefore not quite as speculative as conjectural emendation, but evidence of this sort is not sufficient to overturn the reading in the actual manuscripts of the text, even though it predates the manuscripts (the oldest manuscript of the Iliad, the Venetus A, dates to the tenth century A. D.).  It would be irresponsible to print the text with the δαῖτα reading, as at least one popular grammar of the last century did, without indicating the other, much better attested, reading.  Should this illustration have inspired anyone to wish to learn more about what textual criticism looks like when applied to Homeric epic rather than Scripture I refer you to Martin L. West, Studies in the Text and Transmission of the Iliad, (Munich and Leipzig: K. G. Saur Verlag, 2001).

(4)   St. Vincent of Lérins, Commonitorium 2.6.  The translation is that of C. A. Heurtley in the eleventh volume of the second series of Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, edited by Philip Schaff and Henry Wace and originally published in Buffalo by Christian Literature Publishing in 1894.

(5)   The Jews count the twelve Minor Prophets as a single book, a kind of anthology like the Psalms, rather than twelve books, and count Samuel, Kings, Chronicles, and Ezra as single books rather than two books each as we do (in the case of Ezra the second book is what we ordinarily call Nehemiah).  In ancient times, the Church counted these books the same way the Jews do, and Ruth was counted as part of Judges and Lamentations as part of Jeremiah, bringing the total down to twenty-two, a number considered to be significant because it is the number of letters in the Hebrew alphabet.

(6)   The Talmud in a number of places cites the “book of Ben Sira” as authoritative Scripture.  The Gemara of Chagigah 13a, which was composed in the fifth to sixth centuries A.D., is one such example.  Ben Sira is the book that appears in the Christian Deuterocanon as Sirach or Ecclesiasticus.  In Bava Kamma 92b14 it is quoted as belonging to the Ketuvim (Writings).  The Ketuvim is the K in TNK, usually written as Tanakh.  The T and N are the Torah (Law) and Nevi’im (Prophets).  In Bava Kamma 92b14 the quotation from Ecclesiasticus is joined with quotations from Genesis and Judges (which is classified as Nevi’im by the Jews) so that all three sections of the Tanakh are quoted.  Bava Kamma dates to the same period as Chagigah.

(7)   A Targum was an Aramaic paraphrase of a passage from the Hebrew Scriptures combined with a midrash (commentary) on the passage.

(8)   These books are not continuations of the narrative in Ezra/Nehemiah.  The LXX contains two books named Esdras (Ezra), Esdras A and Esdras B.  Esdras B is a straightforward translation of the Hebrew book of Ezra (Ezra and Nehemiah in most English Bibles).  Esdras A is another translation of the same book that removes some things (namely Nehemiah) and adds others.  In translation it is sometimes called 1 Esdras sometimes 3 Esdras.  The book called 2 Esdras in the Authorized Bible and 4 Esdras in editions of the Vulgate that include it is called 3 Esdras in Eastern Orthodox Bibles and is the only extra book in Eastern Orthodox Bibles not found in standard editions of the LXX.  There was a Greek version, and probably a Hebrew original, but they are not extant.  It is radically different in genre from the other books, consisting of apocalyptic visions similar to those of Daniel/Revelation.

(9)   Protopresbyter Michael Pomazansky, Orthodox Dogmatic Theology, translated by Fr. Seraphim Rose (Platina: St. Herman of Alaska Brotherhood, 1983, 2021) 32-34.

(10)                       Note the irony that by retaining the ancient way of counting the books acknowledged as canon by both Jews and Scriptures as 22 the Eastern Orthodox with 16 extra books from the LXX, rather than just the 7 recognized by the Roman Catholic Church, ends up with a total Old Testament book count that is one less than the Protestant which excludes all the extra LXX books from the Old Testament (although not from the Bible in the case of Lutherans and Anglicans).

(11)                       The testimony is not strong enough to support the traditional claim of the Assyrian Church of the East that the Peshitta New Testament is the original of which the Greek is a translation, a claim that while wrong has, as errors of this sort generally do, an element of truth in it in that Patristic testimony maintains that St. Matthew wrote his Gospel in Hebrew by which the Fathers probably meant Aramaic.  That St. Paul’s epistles to Greek-speaking Churches were originally written in Syriac, however, is hardly credible. 

(12)                       Dr. Luther did the same thing with his German Bible, except that he used the shorter Roman Catholic deuterocanon for his “Apocrypha” rather than the longer Eastern Orthodox one.

(13)                       St. Athanasius, Letter 39, 7.  This can be found in the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Series 2, Volume 4.  Note that in his list of the 22 Old Testament books in paragraph 4, Baruch is mentioned as being part of the book of Jeremiah.

(14)                       Article VI “Of the Sufficiency of the Holy Scriptures for Salvation.”  The list of the books is of those that were later printed in the Authorized Bible, i.e., the Eastern Orthodox deuterocanon sans 3 Maccabees and Psalm 151.  In the Article, however, unlike in the Authorized Bible, the canonical Ezra/Nehemiah are called 1 and 2 Esdras, and the books that are printed under these names in the Apocrypha section of the Authorized Bible are called 3 and 4 Esdras.  The book entitled Ecclesiasticus in the Authorized Bible is called Jesus, Son of Sirach in the Article, the Prayer of Manasseh is spelled with final s instead of a final h, and Tobit is called Tobias.  The difference between the Articles and the Authorized Bible in numbering the Esdras books is rather unfortunate because it further complicated an already quite muddled matter.  The other differences are minor, although Tobit and Tobias are two different persons (a father and a son) in the actual book.  The book is called Tobit, sometimes with an aspirated final dental, in the LXX, and Tobias in the Vulgate.  Tobit, therefore, is the original name of the book.  The son’s name is a variation of the father’s name and the distinction is eliminated in the Latin.  The title, therefore, is probably still referring to the father, although it would make sense to name it after the son in that Tobias’ role in the story is much larger than that of his father.  It is Tobias who with the help of the archangel Raphael, defeats the demon of lust Asmodeus, so that he may marry Sarah without dying.  As the seven brothers whom she had previously married all had on their wedding nights.  Almost certainly the seven brothers alluded to by the Sadducees who evidently did not know the full story and received from Jesus the rebuke that they knew not the Scriptures!

(15)                       It is even closer to the Eastern Orthodox view as expressed by St. Philaret of Moscow in The Longer Catechism of the Orthodox Church, Q. 31-35.

(16)                       The position taken by the Anglican Church in her formularies is further articulated and defended by Richard Hooker in Of the Lawes of Ecclesiastical Politie, Book V, chapter 22 and by Bishop Christopher Wordsworth in the fourth of his lectures collected and published as On the Canon of The Scriptures of the Old and New Testament and of the Apocrypha (London: Francis and John Rivington, 1818).

(17)                      Enoch is quoted by St. Jude in the New Testament.  That being quoted in the New Testament does not mean that something is itself inspired Scripture should be evident from the quotations from pagan poetry that St. Paul includes in his speech at Mars Hill in Acts 17.

(18)                       The idea of books that are “non-canonical” Scriptures is obviously contradictory if “canonical” is understood to mean “on the list of books that are Scriptures.”  Hooker and Wordsworth, vide supra note 15, not wanting to complicate matters with multiple meanings of canon, spoke of the books in question as being part of the Bible, but read with Scripture rather than as Scripture.  This, however, makes “the Bible” and “Scripture” two different things, which does not improve matters.  “Canon” is a word that means “rule” or “measuring stick”.  Applied to the Bible, it can mean the “rule” that says such-and-such a book belongs in the Bible, or it can mean such-and-such books as the “rule” that determines sound doctrine.  There can be no “non-canonical” books of Scripture in the first sense.  “Non-canonical” in the second sense, however, describes the Anglican view of these books which Hooker and Wordsworth held.  Pomazansky et al., seem to be using it in an intermediate sense, indicating first that the books are not part of the Hebrew canon, that is, the Jewish version of the canon in the first sense, and secondly that their role in doctrine is a supportive one rather than primary.  The tradition that doctrine is not established from the “non-canonical” or “deuterocanonical” books does not necessarily suggest that the books were viewed as less than inspired.  Establishing doctrine has two sides to it, establishing the doctrines that are de fide for the Church as an in-house matter, and establishing doctrines in dialogue or dispute with others.  Of the groups that Christianity has historically been in dialogue with, the only one for whom an appeal to Scriptural authority would mean anything would be the Jews, and these only recognize the “canonical” books of the Old Testament.  Therefore there was a practical reason, at least when it came to dialogue with the Jews, for refraining from trying to establish doctrine with the deuterocanon.  See, however, A Scholastical History of the Canon of the Holy Scripture by Caroline Divine Bishop John Cosin, found in The Works of The Right Reverend Father in God John Cosin Lord Bishop of Durham, Vol. III (Oxford: John Henry Parker, 1849) for the Patristic evidence for understanding the lower status of these books as due to a difference in quality.

(19)                       Zane C. Hodges, “The Greek Text of the King James Version,” Bibliotheca Sacra, Vol. 125:500 (Oct, 1968) 334-345 and “Modern Textual Criticism and the Majority Text: A Response,” JETS 21/2 (June, 1978), 143-155 and Wilbur Norman Pickering The Identity of the New Testament Text (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1978) are examples of arguments that majority principle leads to the most accurate text.  While the theory is much sounder than the theory that postulates that the best text is found in a small handful of really old manuscripts it is incomplete.

(20)                       John William Burgon, who had been vicar of the University Church of St. Mary the Virgin in Oxford (the third after John Henry Newman) before his appointment as Dean of Chichester Cathedral, in 1876, was a textual scholar second to none in the nineteenth century.  He argued for the Byzantine Text, or the Traditional Text as he called it, on multiple grounds, all centred on respect for the Scriptures as God’s Word as given to and preserved in His Church.  He was working on a magnus opus that would fully articulate such a faithful, ecclesiastical, approach in response to text critical theory when he died.  His manuscript was subsequently edited and posthumously published as two volumes, Causes of Corruption of the Traditional Text of the Holy Gospels (1896) and The Traditional Text of the Holy Gospels Vindicated and Established (1896).  His earlier treatments of the subject including The Last Twelve Verses of Mark (1871) and a series of articles for Quarterly Review bound and published as the Revision Revised in 1881 are better known.

(21)                       “As its authoritative text for the Old Testament, it uses the ancient Greek translation known as the Septuagint. When this differs from the original Hebrew (which happens quite often), Orthodox believe that the changes in the Septuagint were made under the inspiration of the Holy Spirt, and are to be accepted as part of God’s continuing revelation.  The best-known instance is Isaiah vii,14 – where the Hebrew says ‘A young woman shall conceive and bear a son’, which the Septuagint translates ‘A virgin shall conceive’, etc.  The New Testament follows the Septuagint text (Matthew I, 23).” Timothy (Kallistos) Ware, The Orthodox Church: An Introduction to Eastern Christianity, 3rd edition (London: Penguin Books, 1993), 193-194.  Metropolitan Ware’s example concedes too much, in my opinion, to Jewish and liberal claims about the meaning of עַלְמָה in the Hebrew text.  This word occurs several times in the Hebrew Scriptures.  In all but one of these the person designated is clearly a virgin, in the one where this is not the case it appears as part of a compound word that is only found in this one verse (Prov. 30:19).  The word itself is derived from a root which means coming of child-bearing age and this is what it primarily indicates about the woman it denotes.  Virginity can be reasonably if not infallibly inferred from it.  The LXX translators used both νεᾶνις (maiden) and παρθένος (virgin) to translate this word.  While this indicates the word could mean “young woman” rather than “virgin” it also indicates that context determines which of these two meanings is intended.  The context of Isaiah 7:14 supports the LXX’s translation as παρθένος.  A young woman, who has come of child-bearing age, but who is not a virgin, giving birth, would not constitute a sign.  The argument that if Isaiah had meant “virgin” he would have written הלותב does not really hold water.  This word, while used more often for “virgin” than עַלְמָה is not more limited to this meaning and comes about it in just as roundabout a way.  It is derived from a verb meaning to separate and originally indicated a young woman who has not been separated from her father’s house although even this was not literally the case with some to whom the term is applied in the Hebrew Scriptures, such as the maidens who had been collected for Ahasuerus’ harem in the book of Esther.  This book still applies the term to them when they were clearly no longer virgins.  This, and the fact that Moses needed to qualify the term in Genesis 24:44 to make sure it was understood as virgin, and that Joel used it of a bride mourning for her husband in Joel 1:8 (the term for husband indicates the marriage had taken place, this was not just an engagement) should suffice to negate the idea that this is the technical term for “virgin” in Hebrew.

(22)           Autographa are the original manuscripts.  Apographa, not to be confused with apocrypha, refers to copied manuscripts and so to all extent manuscripts.

Friday, September 1, 2023

The Mysterious Sacrifice and the Sacrificial Mystery

 If Adam had not sinned would God the Son have still become Incarnate as a Man?

 

Note that the question as worded pertains to the Incarnation not the Atonement.

 

Many would say that there is no way of knowing the answer to this question, and they have a good point.   What Luis de Molina, the sixteenth century Spanish Jesuit who is best known for trying to harmonize a strong Augustinian view of predestination with free will, called "Middle Knowledge", the knowledge of counterfactuals, what would have been under different circumstances, properly belongs to God alone.   For many Protestants however, without having considered the question per se, the default answer would likely be "no" because in their theology the Atonement was the end of the Incarnation.   If you remove the need for the Atonement you remove the need for the Incarnation.   For earlier theologians who seriously considered the matter, this was not the case.   John Duns Scotus, a Scottish Franciscan friar of the thirteenth-fourteenth centuries, and one of the most important Medieval theologians even if Modern thinkers scoffed at him - the word dunce, which was the name of those conical caps teachers made disobedient and obtuse students wear back when teachers were concerned with imparting learning and had not yet realized their calling to convince girls that they are boys and boys that they are girls, was derived from his name - argued that the answer was “yes”.   He argued this in both his Ordinatio, the published collection of the lectures he gave in Oxford on Peter Lombard’s Sentences, and his Reportatio Parisiensis, which contain similar lectures delivered at the University of Paris.   It was also a common although not universal view among the theologians of the Eastern Church.

 

That this would be the case - the "yes" answer being common in the East - is understandable when we consider one of the major differences in Eastern and Western theology, that which has to do with the antelapsarian state of man.  John Calvin, in the second book of his Institutes of the Christian Religion, chapter two, section four, says of the consequences of the Fall upon the freedom of man’s will that “although the Greek Fathers, above others, and especially Chrysostom, have exceeded due bounds in extolling the power of the human will, yet all ancient theologians, with the exception of Augustine, are so confused, vacillating, and contradictory on this subject, that no certainty can be obtained from their writings.”  St. Augustine was, of course, the leading doctor of the Western Church.   Countless Reformed theologians since have assumed without looking into it that the East is Pelagian or semi-Pelagian but that is not the case and that is not really what Calvin said.   Pelagianism was a heresy that East and West joined in condemning, but which was a heresy that arose in the West and which has perennially plagued the West not the East.   The East-West difference is that the East does not have as exalted a view of the pre-Fall state.  Man was created in the image and likeness of God, the Orthodox say, and they distinguish between the two, identifying the image of God with man’s reason, responsibility, and the like, and the likeness with moral excellence.   The Fall affected the likeness of God in man, but prior to the Fall that likeness was not yet perfect.   Man was created innocent, that is to say, without moral flaw, but was to grow to perfection, which is another way of saying maturity.   He was to grow in the likeness of God until he was as like God in righteousness and holiness as a creature can be.   The East calls this theosis and sees the Fall as an interruption of the process.   They liken it to a child stumbling as he takes his first steps.   While this sounds to Western ears like downplaying the Fall, this is because the West has followed St. Augustine in regarding man’s antelapsarian state as one of moral perfection.   The East regards the Fall as seriously as does the West, and insists contra Pelagius that apart from the Grace of God as given through Jesus Christ there can be no salvation, but they see the end of salvation as the completion of the interrupted theosis rather than the restoration of the status quo ante.  Given that framework, it is to be expected that a “yes” answer to the question would come more naturally to Eastern theologians than to Western theologians. 

 

I do not bring this up to argue that the East is right rather than the West.   I think that we are better off for listening to orthodox theologians from all the ancient Christian traditions rather than just our own, but replacing a Western provincialism with a reverse provincialism in which the East is always right is not an improvement,   I bring it up because there are parallels in the preceding discussion with the one that is about to follow with a new question:

 

If Adam had not sinned would there still have been sacrifices?

 

Here too, although this question is as much about what might have been as the first, those who would be inclined to answer the first question with "no" are likely to answer "no" again.   In this case, however, we might expect a better argued reason for the answer.   Sacrifices, the argument goes, began after the Fall and pointed to the Ultimate Sacrifice of Jesus Christ.   God gave Adam and Eve skin coats to cover them as the first picture of the necessity of the shedding of the blood of the Son of God to atone for sin.   Their sons offered sacrifices, showing the practice was established that far back, and while it got corrupted by paganism, God gave a pure sacrificial system to the Israelites in the Old Covenant, to point them towards Jesus Christ, Whose True Sacrifice brought other sacrifices to an end.  Since the whole point of this was that Jesus Christ's death atoned for man's sin, in the absence of sin there would have been no need for any of this.

 

The problem with this reasoning is not so much with what it positively affirms but with what it leaves out.   The Scriptures, Old and New Testaments, speak of sacrifices other than sacrifices that a) involve death, and b) are offered on account of sin or trespass, voluntary or otherwise.   The hidden assumption in the argument outlined in the previous paragraph is that in verses that speak of non-physical sacrifices, "sacrifice" is used in a metaphorical sense, with blood/death sacrifices being the literal thing that gives the metaphorical its meaning.    Even the physical sacrifices of the Levitical sacrificial system that God gave to the Israelites as part of the Mosaic Covenant, however, contain sacrifices that don’t fit the model of death and blood, prefiguring Calvary.   There were the sin offerings and the trespass offerings to be made when one had unknowingly sinned, the difference between the two basically being that the one was for when no restitution was possible and the other for when it was.   There were the daily burnt offerings and sacrifices, which had reference to sin in a more general sense.   Then there were the peace offerings which, while not entirely unrelated to sin, were more about thanksgiving and fellowship.    The focus was on the positive not the negative and this was even more the case with the sacrifices that were offered in commemoration of events, or to mark the beginning of the month, or to consecrate something or another.   Not all of the offerings involved animals.   There were also grain offerings – sometimes in the form of flour, sometimes in the form of roasted grains, sometimes in the form of cakes, in each case mixed with oil, and except for the cakes with frankincense as well – and there were wine offerings or libations.   Sometimes these were offered with an animal sacrifice, sometimes they were offered on their own.    If there were other types of sacrifices, even among the physical sacrifices of the Levitical system, then perhaps the non-physical sacrifices are not metaphorical after all.   Perhaps there is a deeper, more essential, meaning to the concept of sacrifice that might actually be easier to see in these other sacrifices where it is not overshadowed by the thought of man's sin and the need to atone for it.   If that is the case, this might be, depending upon what that deeper meaning turns out to be, a good case for the “yes” answer to our question.  

 

It is worth noting here that the word “sacrifice” does not appear in the Authorized Bible until the thirty-first chapter of Genesis.   This is the word זֶבַח (zebach) which is most often rendered “sacrifice” and which is the word behind most appearances of “sacrifice” in the Authorized Old Testament.   Here it is used of the sacrifice that Jacob offered when he and his uncle Laban had made a covenant between themselves before going their separate ways.   Now, if you are familiar with the Old Testament or even just the most basic episodes in its narrative history you are probably saying that this cannot be right, because sacrifices appear much earlier.  What about Cain and Abel?

 

Yes, the account of Cain and Abel in the fourth chapter of Genesis does indeed depict sacrifices, but it does not use the basic word for sacrifice.   What Cain and Abel each brought to the Lord is called in the Authorized Bible an “offering” and this is a translation of the Hebrew מִנְחָה (mincha) that is actually more common than the word rendered “sacrifice” being rendered “offering” two more times than the total of all uses of זֶבַח.   

 

זֶבַח is a noun derived from a verb meaning “to kill” or “to slaughter”.  מִנְחָה, however, is derived from a verb meaning “to bestow” or “to give”.   Interestingly, although the Hebrew uses מִנְחָה consistently for both Can and Abel’s offerings, the translators who produced the Septuagint opted to use different words.  Cain’s offering is described as a θυσία (thusia) which is the word one would expect had זֶבַח been used as it means “sacrifice” whereas Abel’s is called by the plural of  δῶρον (doron) which is the basic Greek word for “gift” and so a more literal translation of the Hebrew word.   What makes this an even stranger translation choice is that one would expect the reverse since Cain’s offering was of the “fruit of the ground” and Abel’s was of the “firstlings of his flock and of the fat thereof”.   Perhaps by using the word one would have expected of Abel’s animal sacrifice for Can’s grain offering the LXX translators wished to emphasize the difference in the nature of the gifts as an explanation of why the one was rejected and the other accepted.   If so they anticipated an interpretation, i.e., that not being an animal sacrifice it could not prefigure Christ’s Atonement, that is very popular in Christian pulpits but which makes little sense given that grain offerings were later established in the Mosaic Covenant and that the text itself offers the explanation that Abel brought the “firstlings” of his flock and “of the fat thereof”, that is to say the very best, but uses no such language of Cain’s offering.   Cain’s offence, then, was most likely that of Malachi 1:7:

 

Ye offer polluted bread upon mine altar; and ye say, Wherein have we polluted thee? In that ye say, The table of the Lord is contemptible.

 

That the first account of sacrifice in the Bible uses the word for “offering” rather than the word derived from the verb for killing is, I think, very instructive as to the basic, essential, nature of sacrifice.   Later in Genesis, when Jacob is contemplating how his brother will receive him upon his return, he uses this same word for the extravagant gift he prepares in the hopes of appeasing Esau should he still be miffed over the whole stolen birthright/blessing thing.  Here the word is translated “present” in the Authorized Bible.   Even later in Genesis it is the word used of the tribute that Jacob orders his sons to bring to Pharaoh’s Prime Minister, who they do not yet know is their brother Joseph, on their second trip to Egypt.   Here too it is rendered “present” which is the second most common translation of the word.  When the recipient is another human being rather than God “present” or “gift” is used, almost always with the sense of “tribute”.   This would appear to be the basic idea behind an offering or sacrifice to God as well.  It is the tribute that human beings as His subjects, owe to the King of Kings.  

 

Such an understanding rather clinches the case for a “yes” answer to our question.   For human beings were always subjects of their Creator, the King of Kings, and as such would always have owed Him tribute whether they had fallen from His favour through sin or no.   Even if one were to argue that had man remained in his primordial, antelapsarian, condition he would have had nothing to bring to God of the fruits of his labour, not even grain offerings, because having to work the land was part of the curse and he would still have been in the Garden, they would have been expected to bring the sacrifice (θυσία) of Hebrews 13:15:

 

By him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to his name.

 

In this verse we come at last to my point in raising these questions of what would have been.   If sacrifice is in its truest essence human beings bringing to God, the King of Kings, the tribute we owe Him as His subjects and which would have been required of us even if we had not sinned, and if, therefore, the idea of a propitiatory offering reconciling us to the God we have offended as sinners, prefigured in the blood sacrifices of the Old Testament and ultimately fulfilled in the Crucifixion, is the form that sacrifice took after the Fall due to the sinfulness of man, we would expect that after Jesus Christ fulfilled the propitiatory aspect of sacrifice once and for all, its essence would remain in Christian worship, and that is exactly what this verse, near the end of the epistle which most clearly spells out how the death of Jesus Christ has satisfied the need for sacrifice for sin, says.

 

By His death on the Cross, Jesus Christ did what the bulls and goats, sacrificed on the altar of the Tabernacle and Temple, looking forwards to Him, could never do.   He took away the sin of the world.   Moreover, His Sacrifice was the Sacrifice that established the New Covenant foretold in the Old.   With the change in Covenant came a change in priesthood and rite.   These changes reflect the fact that in the events of the Gospel, everything the Old Covenant looked forward to has been fulfilled.   Under the Old Covenant the rite of entry and the outward sign of membership in the Covenant people was Circumcision.   While not a sacrifice per se, Circumcision involved the shedding of blood.   With the establishment of Christ’s New Covenant, all ceremonial requirements for shedding blood came to an end having been fulfilled with the shedding of His blood on the Cross.   So Circumcision was replaced with Baptism, which does not involve the shedding of blood, and which is a more perfect rite of entrance in that it can be administered to everyone, male and female alike, as is entirely appropriate for a Covenant which, unlike the Old Covenant that was national, is Catholic, for people of every kindred, tribe, and nation.    Where Baptism most resembles the rite that was its equivalent in the Old Covenant is that it is administered once and does not need to be repeated.

 

Other than Circumcision, the most important part of the ceremonial aspect of the Old Covenant was the sacrifices that the Levitical priesthood offered at the Tabernacle/Temple.   These did have to repeated, some daily, others, such as those assigned to the Feast Days and the Day of Atonement, annually.   Just as Baptism is the more perfect replacement for Circumcision, so under the New Covenant there is a more perfect ceremonial replacement for the Old Testament sacrifices, and that is the Sacrament that we variously call the Lord’s Supper or Lord’s Table, Holy Communion – this word means fellowship or sharing, and the Eucharist.   This last is the Greek word for thanksgiving, the verbal form of which is used by St. Paul in 1 Corinthians 11 for the thanks given by the Lord in the institution of the Sacrament.   Although a different word, the verb that is usually translated “confess”, is used for giving thanks in Hebrews 13:15, it is not improbable that this verse contributed to the rite replacing the Levitical sacrifices being named “Thanksgiving” from the earliest days (it is so named in the Didache, an early instruction manual in right living, liturgy, and Church structure which was thought lost until rediscovered around the middle of the nineteenth century, and which after the discovery of similar Jewish manuals among the Qumran scrolls has usually been dated to the first century).

 

Using the word “sacrifice” in the context of discussing the Eucharist sends a certain type of Protestant into hysterical fits.   This is, perhaps, understandable considering the state of the Sacrament in the West on the eve of the Reformation.   Masses were said around the clock, often with no laity present or expected to be present.  When the laity were present they seldom took Communion and when they did receive it was only the host, the cup being withheld from them.   Instead of being encouraged to receive the Sacrament, the people were encouraged to gaze at it in adoration from afar.   The underlying theological problem behind all this was the idea that in the Mass Christ’s Sacrifice was repeated and so each Mass was a sacrifice in itself that was offered up by the priest, and which conferred its benefits regardless of whether the beneficiaries were present or not.  This, at least, is how the Roman late Medieval theology on the matter was understood at the popular level.   To what extent the popular theology reflected the official teaching of the Roman Church at the time is debatable.   St. Thomas Aquinas addressed the question of whether Christ is sacrificed in the Sacrament in Summa Theologiae, Third Part, Question 83, Article 1.   He argues in the affirmative, but his main argument in the Respondeo, an argument that he borrows from St. Augustine, is that just as we point to a picture and say that this is Cicero or Sallust, so we say that the Sacrament, the depiction of Christ’s One Sacrifice, is that Sacrifice, which was an argument that Zwingli could have endorsed.   However, St. Thomas Aquinas represented the Medieval theology of Rome prior to Trent at its best, in its most scholarly form, which differed both from the popular theology and the dogmas coming out of the Roman See.  That people could pay a price to have a Mass said in order to reduce their own temporal debt for sin or knock time off of Purgatory for someone else, suggests that the Patriarch of Rome and his subordinates cannot be wholly absolved of blame for what was going on at the popular level.   The fact that they cleaned up some of the abuses and clarified their official doctrine in the Council of Trent (1545-1563) demonstrates that they recognized this as well, even if they were not willing to publicly admit their wrong doing.   It was to this sort of thinking and the bad practices it produced, that the Reformers reacted.

 

Or maybe they overreacted.     The abuses described in the previous paragraph were distinctly Roman.    The Eastern Church never withheld the wine from the laity, encouraged them to adore the host from afar rather than receive it, or sold private Masses.   These abuses, therefore, are Roman rather than Catholic.  The Eastern Church did and does, however, regard the Eucharist as a sacrifice.   Since the Church Fathers going back to St. Ignatius, the Patriarch of Antioch who was martyred early in the second century and who had been taught by St. John the Apostle himself, spoke of the Eucharist as a sacrifice, the idea that the Eucharist is a sacrifice is a Catholic one and not merely a Roman one.   The Reformers, therefore, should have been very careful in approaching this, not to condemn what was Catholic along with what was Roman, unless they had solid Scriptural grounds to do so.  Certainly, they were on solid Scriptural ground in objecting to any teaching that suggested that the Eucharist was another sacrifice of the same type as Christ’s One Sacrifice, or that in the Eucharist Christ’s Sacrifice was repeated, or that the Eucharist adds to what Jesus accomplished on the Cross.    These, however, are not Catholic ideas.   They might be Roman or have been Roman at one point in time, but they were never taught by the Eastern Church.   The Eastern Church, however, did and does teach that the Eucharist is a propitiatory sacrifice.   How they can teach that and not teach these other things, I will explain momentarily. 

 

First note that the Reformers, in reacting to Rome, rejected that idea common to the Eastern and Roman Churches, that the Eucharist is a propitiatory sacrifice.  They would allow for it being a sacrifice only in the sense of a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving.   Calvin’s discussion of this can be found in chapter XVII of the fourth book of his Institutes, the second part of the chapter beginning at section ten being most relevant.   In the tenth section he acknowledges that the ancients spoke of the Eucharist as a sacrifice but says that they meant it merely in the sense of a commemoration of Christ’s Sacrifice.   As his argument proceeds, he acknowledges that there are other sacrifices than the kind that involve death, although he describes those who raise the point as “quarrelsome” and says that he does not see the “rational ground” on which they “extend” the term to these other rites (section thirteen).  Clearly, the kind of argument made at the beginning of this essay that sacrifice, in its essential meaning, is tribute offered to the King of Kings, with the idea of death and blood being external to the essence and a consequence of the Fall, would be lost on Calvin.  Since his mind was shaped by training in law, he should not be too harshly blamed for this.   He argues that as a sacrifice, the Eucharist belongs to a class that includes all duties of charity and piety rather than being unique, (section sixteen), and that in particular it is a sacrifice of praise, prayer, and thanksgiving (section seventeen).   His point in all of this is to so separate the Roman “Mass” from the Lord’s Supper as to make them two different things altogether than the one a corrupted version of the other.    Amusingly, considering his opposition to “superstition”, by this he succeeded in creating a new superstition, the aversion to the very word “Mass” found among certain Protestants who seem to think that all of popery is smuggled in by the use of this word which simply means a service in which the Eucharist is celebrated.

 

In the Eastern Church, such a service is commonly called the Divine Liturgy.     The Eastern Church, as mentioned, regards the Sacrament celebrated in the Divine Liturgy as a propitiatory sacrifice.   They do not, however, regard it as being another propitiatory sacrifice adding that of Jesus Christ, or a repetition of Christ’s Sacrifice.   This is because they regard it as being the One Sacrifice of Jesus Christ.   The late Metropolitan Kallistos Ware, writing under his pre-monastic name Timothy, explains:

 

The Eucharist is not a bare commemoration nor an imaginary representation of Christ’s sacrifice, but the true sacrifice itself; yet on the other hand it is not a new sacrifice, nor a repetition of the sacrifice on Calvary, since the Lamb was sacrificed ‘once only, for all time’.  The events of Christ’s sacrifice – the Incarnation, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection, the Ascension – are not repeated in the Eucharist, but they are made present.   ‘During the Liturgy, through its divine power, we are projected to the point where eternity cuts across time, and at this point we become true contemporaries with the events which we commemorate.’ ‘All the holy suppers of the Church are nothing else than one eternal and unique Supper, that of Christ in the Upper Room.  The same divine act both takes place at a specific moment in history, and is offered always in the sacrament.’ (Timothy Ware, The Orthodox Church, 1963, rev. 1993, 2015 edition, pp. 279-280, bold representing italics in original, citations in text from P. Evdokimov, L’Orthodoxie, p. 241 and 208 respectively)

 

The Eastern Church had to clarify her views on this much earlier than the Roman Church.  One notable example took place about a century after the mutual excommunications of the Patriarchs of Rome and Constantinople in the Schism.   Lukas Chrysoberges, the newly installed Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople, was barely in office in 1156 when a controversy arose due to the teaching of Soterichos Panteugenos, who had been chosen for the next Patriarch of Antioch but had not yet been enthroned.   Panteugenos taught that Jesus had offered His Sacrifice only to the Father and not to the entire Holy Trinity.   This was denounced as heretical, and Chrysoberges was asked to preside over the Synod of Blachernae that Emperor Manuel I Komnemnos called to meet in said quarter of Constantinople in 1157 to decide the matter.   The main issue was the one just mentioned but Panteugenos had also taught that the Eucharist was merely a figurative commemoration of Christ’s Sacrifice.   His teachings were condemned and his selection for the See of Antioch was nullified, although he was persuaded to recant.  Most significantly for our purposes here, the Eastern Church declared in the council that the Eucharist was not just a figurative commemoration, but the One Sacrifice of Jesus Christ and to make the identification clear it was emphasized that it was not another sacrifice, not a repeat of the sacrifice, but the One Sacrifice made present in a sacramental fashion.   Having had to clarify her understanding of the Eucharist so soon after breaking fellowship with Rome, she was clear on there being no repetition of or addition to the One Sacrifice  in a way that Rome was not, and so did not go down the same path as Rome.

 

Although the Eastern understanding excludes the ideas that were most objectionable to the Reformers in the idea of the Eucharist as a propitiatory sacrifice, the ideas of adding to or repeating the One Sacrifice of Jesus Christ, and was not coupled with the corrupt practices of withholding the wine, encouraging the faithful to gaze from afar rather than receive, charging for private Masses, etc., it likely would not have met with a good reception among the continental Reformers.   Dr. Luther logically ought not to have had any problem with it considering his overall conservatism and especially his strong view of the Real Presence which prevented him from reaching accord with the Swiss Reformers in the Marburg Colloquy of 1529.   It does not make much logical sense to insist on the Real Presence of the Body and Blood in the elements of the Sacrament without accepting the Real Presence of the One Sacrifice in the Sacrament.   Calvin, who already had a low view of the Eastern tradition because of the differences between the Greek Fathers and St. Augustine, and who held a considerably less literal view of the Real Presence than Dr. Luther, would not likely have viewed the Eastern position as much less objectionable than Rome’s.   The real question, however, from the starting point of the primacy and supremacy of Scripture, which both Dr. Luther and Calvin affirmed, is what the Bible teaches concerning the relationship between the Sacrifice of Jesus Christ and the Sacrament of Holy Communion.

 

Jesus Christ’s Sacrifice on the Cross was the One Sacrifice that effectually removed the sin of the world and accomplished salvation.   It was also a Sacrifice that established a Covenant.   In the words of Institution in Matthew 26:28, Mark 14:24, Luke 22:20, and 1 Corinthians 11:25, Jesus pronounced over the cup of the Eucharist that it was the “new testament” in His blood, i.e., the New Covenant.   Understanding that Christ’s Sacrifice was a Covenant Sacrifice as well as the Sacrifice that accomplished the salvation of the world is essential to understanding what the Lord’s Supper is all about.   Important information about this can be gleaned by looking at the establishment of the Old Covenant.

 

The Old Covenant was established at Mt. Sinai, where Moses led the Israelites after their flight from Egypt in the book of Exodus.   The formal establishment of the Covenant takes place in the twenty-fourth chapter, where the LORD summons Moses, Aaron, Nadab, Abihu, and seventy of the elders of Israel to worship (v. 1), allowing only Moses to come near Him (v. 2), Moses tells the people all the words of the Lord and they promise to keep all of them (v. 3), Moses records everything and rises early in the morning, builds an altar, and erects twelve pillars for the twelve tribes (v. 4), they offer burnt offerings and peace offerings of oxen (v. 5), Moses puts half the blood in basins and sprinkles half on the altar (v. 6), the book of the Covenant is read to the people and they again promise to do all that is contained in it (v. 7) after which Moses sprinkles the people with blood and tells them to behold the blood of the Covenant which the Lord has made with them (v. 8), then all those who had been summoned go up the mountain where they see God and “eat and drink” (vv. 9-11).   In this formal establishment of the Covenant we see a) the sacrifices, i.e., the actual killing of the victims b) the act of sanctification by the sprinkling of the blood, and c) the representatives of the people eating and drinking in the presence of the Other Party to the Covenant, i.e., God.  The first two of these, the killing of the victim on the altar and the sprinkling of the blood, are the key components of sacrifices that are offered on account of sin and which prefigure the Sacrifice of Jesus Christ. Think especially of the procedure on the Day of Atonement.   The killing on the altar prefigures the death of Christ on the Cross on Calvary, and the sprinkling of whatever needs to be sanctified, such as the Holy of Holies, with the blood prefigures Jesus Christ’s entry into the Heavenly Tabernacle with His Own Blood as High Priest after the order of Melchizedek which is discussed at length in the book of Hebrews.    The part where the parties of the Covenant eat and drink together is the standard conclusion of the making of a Covenant.  It was seen earlier in the Pentateuch in the passage that contains the first use of the principle word for sacrifice where after Jacob and Laban have come to their agreement “Jacob offered sacrifice upon the mount, and called his brethren to eat bread: and they did eat bread, and tarried all night in the mount.” (Gen. 31:54).   Indeed, it is seen even earlier than that where Melchizedek, the priest of Salem alluded to in the references to Jesus Christ as a priest after the order of Melchizedek, brings out bread and wine to Abram and his confederates and to those they just liberated from the eastern confederacy after the rebellion of the cities of the plain in the fourteenth chapter of Genesis.   In this passage, the making of a Covenant is implied by the circumstances, only the final meal is explicitly mentioned.   Note the close resemblance between that meal and a Eucharist.

 

Having looked at the formal establishment of the Old Covenant we need now to back up in the book of Exodus to look at the event which more than anything else in the Old Testament prefigures Jesus Christ and the redemption He accomplished on the Cross.   God’s deliverance of Israel from literal slavery in Egypt, prefigures His delivering His people of every nation from slavery to sin through Jesus Christ’s death on the Cross.   This is why Christ’s work on the Cross is called “redemption”, a word that literally means purchasing someone out of slavery.   God’s challenge to Pharaoh through Moses culminated in the plague of the firstborn, in which the Angel of Death visited all the firstborn in Egypt, from Pharaoh’s household down,   The Israelites were delivered from this plague in a manner that they would commemorate forever in the Passover.   It was on the anniversary of the Passover that Jesus was crucified.   In Exodus 12, God gave Moses the instructions regarding the Passover.   They were to choose a spotless lamb per household on the tenth of the month.   On the fourteenth of the month, the lamb would be killed before the assembly of the entire congregation of Israel.   This foreshadows the death of Christ on the Cross.  Then they were to take the blood and strike it on the two side posts and the upper post of the main entrance to the house.   This, which incidentally or not requires making a cross shaped motion, foreshadows Christ’s entry into the heavenly Holy of Holies with His blood.   Then, finally, they were to eat the Passover:

 

And they shall eat the flesh in that night, roast with fire, and unleavened bread; and with bitter herbs they shall eat it.  Eat not of it raw, nor sodden at all with water, but roast with fire; his head with his legs, and with the purtenance thereof. And ye shall let nothing of it remain until the morning; and that which remaineth of it until the morning ye shall burn with fire. (vv. 8-10)

 

So covenants were formally established with sacrifices after which there was a shared meal.   The implication that the sacrifice itself became the meal is made explicit in the account of the Passover.   Do I really need to state the obvious by saying that the Lord’s Supper, which was instituted on the occasion of a Passover meal, is to Christ’s One Sacrifice what that meal was to the Passover sacrifice or that Christ’s One Sacrifice being a Covenant Sacrifice, the Lord’s Supper is the Covenant meal?

 

Now ordinarily Covenant meals were eaten once on the occasion of the establishment of the Covenant.   The Passover meal was repeated in a commemorative way once a year on the anniversary of the original event.   The Lord’s Supper, however, was to be eaten over and over again on a regular basis.   From the account of the first Church in Jerusalem in its early days we learn that at first the Lord’s Supper was celebrated on a daily basis (Acts 2:42, 46).    Note the juxtaposition in the second of these verses of the believers’ continuing in the Temple of the Old Covenant, which was still standing at the time, and their “breaking bread”, i.e., in the Lord’s Supper, in the houses where they met as the Church.   Here the two systems temporarily overlap, but with Christ’s death having accomplished what the old sacrifices of bulls and goats could only point to, the old system was already essentially dead.  What remained for believers was to eat and drink of that One Sacrifice in the manner of which Christ prescribed, through the means of bread and wine.    The Lord’s Supper took the place in the religion of the New Covenant that the sacrifices occupied under the Old Covenant.   It is hardly a coincidence that bread and wine, in addition to being important elements of the Passover meal, were the non-animal offerings required by the Mosaic Law.   There is another reason, however, why the meal in which the Sacrifice of the New Covenant is eaten by the faithful, is to be repeated and far more often than the commemoration of the Passover.

 

The New Covenant is the Covenant of everlasting life.   Man had lived under the dominion of Death since the Fall.   The Son of God, by becoming Man, living the righteous life as Man that God required, taking the sins of fallen man upon Himself and submitting to Death, defeating Death in the process, smashing the gates of Death’s kingdom Hell, then rising Immortal from the grave and ascending back to the right hand of the Father, obtained everlasting life for us.  It is offered to us freely in Him to be received by faith.    This new life, everlasting life, is like the old physical life in that it begins with a birth and is sustained by food and drink.   Entry into everlasting life is described as a new or spiritual birth by Jesus Christ in His interview with Nicodemus in the third chapter of St. John’s Gospel.   In the sixth chapter of the same Gospel in an extended discourse which takes place in the synagogue of Capernaum on the day after the feeding of the five thousand He describes Himself as the Bread of Life.  In the course of this discourse He talks about how it is God’s will that He, Jesus, preserve all those whom He has been given, believers, in everlasting life.  Therefore, when at the end of the discourse He says that one must eat His Flesh and drink His Blood to have everlasting life, it is apparent that He is talking about the means through which He accomplishes this preservation.   Everlasting life is received in the new birth, and nourished and sustained by the food that is His Flesh and Blood.  In both chapters faith is identified as the means by which we personally appropriate the Grace of everlasting life both as the initial new birth and the sustaining food and drink.   Both chapters also identify the means by which God confers the Grace upon us.   God confers the Grace of the new birth through the Sacrament of Baptism (Jn. 3:5, cf. 1:33), and the Grace of the sustaining of that life through the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, i.e., the Sacrament of the Eucharist.   There is no contradiction between the Sacraments conferring Grace and faith receiving it.   The New Covenant is not between God and each individual believer on a one-on-one basis as the evangelical expression “a personal relationship with Jesus Christ” which is found nowhere in the Scriptures would suggest.   The New Covenant is between God and the community of faith established by said Covenant, the Church.     The new life is the life of Jesus Christ Himself and we share in it through union with Him which union also united us with other believers in the New Covenant community that is His Body, the Church.  The Gospel Sacraments of Baptism and the Lord’s Supper are both the external sign and seal of the new birth and the sustaining of the new life with the food and drink of the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ and the means through which that union is established and God brings these gifts to his people.   This is not a mechanical operation.   Nobody receives the Grace conferred through the Sacraments except through the appointed means of appropriation, which is faith in Jesus Christ.   Since, however, the Sacraments occupy the same spot in the Ordu Salutis as the preaching of the Gospel, the means through which God works as opposed to the means through which we appropriate, they, like preaching, work towards forming and sustaining in the believer, the faith by which the believer receives the Grace.  

 

Unlike the more fanatical types of Protestants who tended towards schism and separatism, Dr. Luther had a good understanding of this.  John Calvin’s understanding of it was not quite as good as Dr. Luther’s but it was passable.   See his refutation of the idea that the Sacraments are only outer signs in the thirteenth section of chapter XIV of the fourth book of his Institutes and also note that Calvin begins this chapter by saying that the Sacraments are “Akin to the preaching of the gospel”.   It is strange therefore, that they allowed their reaction against the errors and abuses of Rome, to blind their eyes to the obvious reference to the Lord’s Supper in the fifty-first to fifty-eight verses of the sixth chapter of the Gospel according to St. John, and in the larger discourse in which they are found.   Calvin wrote of it that “this discourse does not relate to the Lord’s Supper” (Calvin’s Commentary on John 6:53).   Commenting on the words “And I will raise him up at the last day” in the next verse, Calvin compounds his error by saying:

 

From these words, it plainly appears that the whole of this passage is improperly explained, as applied to the Lord’s Supper. For if it were true that all who present themselves at the holy table of the Lord are made partakers of his flesh and blood, all will, in like manner, obtain life; but we know that there are many who partake of it to their condemnation. And indeed it would have been foolish and unreasonable to discourse about the Lord’s Supper, before he had instituted it. It is certain, then, that he now speaks of the perpetual and ordinary manner of eating the flesh of Christ, which is done by faith only.

 

This reasoning is entirely specious.   It confuses the means of Grace, that is to say, the intermediate means God has established to bring the Grace obtained by Jesus Christ for sinful man on the Cross to sinful man, with the means assigned to sinful man to appropriate said Grace to himself.   Faith is the only means of appropriating Grace, this is what we mean when we speak of “faith alone”.   The means of Grace in the sense of the means through which God works to bring Grace to people include the preaching of His Word, in both its aspects of Law, which works repentance by opening man’s eyes to his need of Grace, and Gospel which proclaims that Grace, and the Sacraments, of which the Eucharist is one.   Only those who make use of the means of appropriating Grace, faith, actually receive the Grace conferred in either Word or Sacrament.   John Calvin understood how this works, so it is inexcusable that he pretended he did not here.   It is also inexcusable that he argued the Lord’s Supper cannot be referred to here because it would be “foolish and unreasonable” to talk about the Sacrament before instituting it.   This is St. John’s Gospel he was commenting on, a Gospel written by an Evangelist who more than once quotes the Lord as saying something and commenting that nobody understood it until much later (2:22 for example and 12:16).

 

Lest I be accused of misrepresenting the Reformer, he does go on immediately after what I just quoted to say:

 

And yet, at the same time, I acknowledge that there is nothing said here that is not figuratively represented, and actually bestowed on believers, in the Lord’s Supper; and Christ even intended that the holy Supper should be, as it were, a seal and confirmation of this sermon.

 

If it is “actually bestowed on believers” in the Lord’s Supper, as Calvin here affirms, there is no good reason for him to think the passage does not make reference to the Lord’s Supper.    Since Sacraments don’t work mechanically and Grace is not received apart from faith it is quite silly not to see the Lord’s Supper in these verses.   If the Lord’s Supper were not intended and reception of the Lord by faith was all that was being discussed here, then why after talking for quite some time about His being the true Bread of Life, does Jesus all of a sudden introduce the idea of drinking His blood?   What Calvin thinks is being stated in this passage without direct reference to the Lord’s Supper, would have been conveyed without the reference to drinking His blood.   That the Lord would needlessly complicate a metaphor in such a way as to make it sound like He is talking about the Sacrament He would later establish without actually talking about it is a truly incredible interpretation.

 

So the Scriptures teach that the Lord’s Supper is a) the meal in which the Sacrifice establishing the New Covenant is eaten and b) the Sacramental means by which the new life is sustained by the spiritual food of the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ.   This harmonizes very well with the understanding that the Eucharist is a sacrifice, even a propitiatory one, but not in its own right, not by repeating or adding to what Jesus Christ did, but because the One Sacrifice of Jesus Christ, the only Sacrifice that is truly propitiatory,  is Sacramentally present in it.     Since this view harmonizes with the Scriptures, we have good cause to call it the true Catholic understanding, passed down from the Patristic era, preserved fairly well in the Eastern tradition, and distorted, although not necessarily obliterated, in the Roman tradition after the Schism.   

 

While our Articles of Religion cannot be said to enthusiastically embrace this view, neither do they disallow it.  Our English Reformers were generally more conservative than any of the continental Reformers and it shows here too.   Articles XXVIII to XXXI treat of the Lord’s Supper and the various controversies pertaining to it in the Reformation.   We will not dwell on Article XXIX which reiterates the assertion in Article XXVIII that faith is the means of receiving Christ in the Sacrament by declaring the necessary flipside to that that the wicked do not receive Christ and Article XXX prohibits the withholding of the cup, with no exception for when a pandemic is underway.   Article XXXI is most relevant to our discussion here.   It reads:

 

The Offering of Christ once made is that perfect redemption, propitiation, and satisfaction, for all the sins of the whole world, both original and actual; and there is none other satisfaction for sin, but that alone. Wherefore the sacrifices of Masses, in the which it was commonly said, that the Priest did offer Christ for the quick and the dead, to have remission of pain or guilt, were blasphemous fables, and dangerous deceits.

 

The “Wherefore” which starts the second sentence in this ties the condemnation of “the sacrifices of Masses” as “blasphemous fables, and dangerous deceits” to what was said in the previous sentence.   Any idea of a Mass as a sacrifice that in its own right does what the Offering of Christ did, repeats it or adds to it in any way, deserves such condemnation.   The idea that that the Eucharist is a sacrifice because that One Offering of Christ is Sacramentally present in it is not condemned in these words.

 

Which brings us to the subject of the Real Presence that is treated earlier under Article XXVIII.   It affirms the Sacramental nature of the Lord’s Supper and the Real Presence right at the beginning:

 

The Supper of the Lord is not only a sign of the love that Christians ought to have among themselves one to another; but rather is a Sacrament of our Redemption by Christ’s death: insomuch that to such as rightly, worthily, and with faith, receive the same, the Bread which we break is a partaking of the Body of Christ; and likewise the Cup of Blessing is a partaking of the Blood of Christ.

 

It then addresses the Roman doctrine of Transubstantiation.   Transubstantiation is not the same thing as the Real Presence.   The Real Presence was affirmed everywhere in the Church from the Patristic era to the Reformation and is truly Catholic rather than merely Roman.   Transubstantiation is a late Roman doctrine.   It is how Rome attempted to explain the Real Presence.   At this point it is worth noting that one of the big differences between the Western and Eastern traditions is that the Eastern tradition is far more comfortable in leaving things as mysteries without a rational or scientific explanation for them than ours is.  This is something for which the East is right to criticize us.   Some things should be left as mysteries.   This is one of them.   Rome, not content to leave the Real Presence unexplained, came up with Transubstantiation, the idea that in the consecration of the Eucharist the bread and wine go away, leaving only their appearances behind, and are replaced by the Body and Blood.   The Reformers, rejecting this explanation, repeated the basic mistake of the Romanists of seeking to explain what did not need to be explained.   Dr. Luther, the strongest defender of the Real Presence among the Reformers, came up with an explanation that pressed to its logical conclusion means that Jesus is present in the bread and wine – and in the altar, the pew, the walls of the Church building, and the tree on the front lawn – with the only thing special about the bread and wine being that in the Eucharist attention is drawn to the Presence.   Zwingli, who saw the Sacrament as being merely a figurative commemoration, argued that Jesus is spiritually present.   That Jesus is spiritually present is true, of course, but it is rather strange to maintain that this is what Jesus meant when He said “this is My Body”.   John Calvin, who saw the Sacrament as being more than a figurative commemoration, but held a view of the Real Presence that only he could distinguish from Zwingli’s, came up with arguments against Dr. Luther’s understanding that pressed to their logical conclusion amount to gross heresy.   While Jesus as God is omnipresent, he argued, His physical body can only be present in one place at a time, and is in Heaven.   Therefore it cannot be present in the Sacrament.   This reasoning overlooks the fact that Heaven, in this sense of the word, is outside of space and time, which are dimensions of Creation.   There might be something in God’s eternal presence outside of Creation that corresponds to them, but the point is that Heaven is not a “place” in the sense it would have to be for Calvin’s reasoning to work.   It also tends to Nestorianism, by dividing Jesus’ deity from His humanity, as Dr. Luther did not hesitate to point out.   In each of these explanations, Rome’s mistake of not being willing to let a mystery be a mystery, a far more fundamental mistake than Transubstantiation itself, was repeated.  

 

Of Transubstantiation our Article goes on to say:

 

Transubstantiation (or the change of the substance of Bread and Wine) in the Supper of the Lord, cannot be proved by holy Writ; but is repugnant to the plain words of Scripture, overthroweth the nature of a Sacrament, and hath given occasion to many superstitions.

 

 

The statement that it “overthroweth the nature of a Sacrament” is an allusion to St. Augustine’s explanation of the Sacraments.   St. Augustine said that a Sacrament was an “outward and visible sign of an internal and invisible Grace”.   These two components, the outward sign and the inward Grace, were necessary for there to be a Sacrament, which both signified the inner Grace and effectively conveyed it to the recipient.   The combination was accomplished by adding the Word to a physical element turning the latter into a “visible Word” and a conduit of Grace.   Transubstantiation overthrows by eliminating, through explaining away, the physical elements, the bread and wine.    The error in Transubstantiation is not that it affirms the Real Presence of Christ in the Sacrament, but that in trying to explain the Real Presence it teaches the Real Absence of the bread and wine.  In 1 Corinthians 11, St. Paul, after giving an account of the Institution of the Eucharist, (vv. 23-25), speaks of the consecrated elements both as “bread” and “the cup” (v. 26-28) and “the body and blood of the Lord” (v. 27) The orthodox position is to affirm that the elements are both at the same time.  The bread and wine do not cease to be bread and wine when they become the Body and Blood of Christ.   There is no need to explain this with some clever philosophical theory about the substance being switched out under cover the accidents or to postulate there being two substances or some such thing.   The bread is the Body.   The only explanation given and the only explanation necessary is because the Word through which the world was spoken into existence declared it be so.  

 

When the Article goes on to affirm that the Body of Christ is “given, taken, and eaten…only after an heavenly and spiritual manner” this should be understood as the brilliant non-explanation that it is.   The adverbs that suggest a Calvinist or even Zwinglian understanding are removed from the Body one degree and applied only to the manner.   This allows for more wiggle room in interpretation, which was Archbishop Parker’s purpose for putting this in when he revised Archbishop Cranmer’s version of the Article into its final form.   This was done to avoid committing the Anglican Church to either side in the increasingly contentious debate between the German and Swiss sides of the Reformation.   While this could be seen as a political decision it was also providential in that it prevented the Anglican Church from either throwing the baby of the Real Presence out with the bathwater of Transubstantiation or adopting a rationalist explanation of what is best left a mystery.

 

This also providentially prevented our Church from repudiating the Catholic view that Christ’s One True Sacrifice is Sacramentally present in the Eucharist in our repudiation of Rome’s twisted version of this for, as much as the Lutherans and Calvinists deny it, the presence of Christ’s Sacrifice in the Sacrament necessarily follows from the Real Presence of the Body and Blood of Christ in the Sacrament, for the broken Body and shed Blood of Christ are the Sacrifice.   We have not gone out of our way to openly declare this Catholic view, mind you.   But then we have not shied away from the word “Sacrifice” in reference to the Lord’s Supper either, albeit in language that would have been acceptable to John Calvin.   We included the Prayer of Oblation in every edition of the Book of Common Prayer, albeit in different places (end of Prayer of Consecration in the 1549 original and American editions, after Communion in 1552 and all subsequent Church of England editions, part in the one place and part in the other in the Canadian edition), which speaks of our “sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving” and offering “ourselves, our souls, and bodies, to be a reasonable, holy and living sacrifice”.   The Book of Common Prayer, which traditionally has been even more definitive of Anglicanism than the Articles of Religion (which are printed in it), includes stronger affirmations of the Real Presence than that which appears in Article XVIII, including when immediately prior to the Words of Institution the priest prays that “Hear us, O merciful Father, we most humbly beseech thee; and grant that we receiving these thy creatures of bread and wine, according to thy Son our Saviour Jesus Christ's holy institution, in remembrance of his death and passion, may be partakers of his most blessed Body and Blood” and when in the Prayer of Humble Access we ask “Grant us therefore, gracious Lord, So to eat the Flesh of thy dear Son Jesus Christ, And to drink his Blood, That our sinful bodies may be made clean by his Body, And our souls washed through his most precious Blood.”   In the BCP Catechism, furthermore, the Answer to what the inner Grace of the Lord’s Supper is reads “The Body and Blood of Christ, which are verily and indeed taken and received by the faithful in the Lord’s Supper”.   In the Prayer Book, therefore, we have preserved a stronger affirmation of the Real Presence of the Body and Blood, which necessarily brings the Catholic view of the Real Presence of the One Sacrifice in the Sacrament along with it, which is good, because this view affirms the Biblical image of the Lord’s Supper as the meal in which the Sacrifice of the New Covenant is eaten, nourishing and sustaining the faithful in the new and everlasting life of Jesus Christ.