Posted on 01/22/2015 2:35:11 PM PST by Gamecock
On the night of the institution of the Lord’s Supper, Jesus prayed for His disciples and for those who would become His disciples, “that they may all be one” (John 17:21). This was a profound prayer for unity among Christ’s disciples. Sadly, the occasion for this prayer, the “Passover” of the new exodus, the meal commemorating the death of the Lamb of God for His people, has become the focal point for some of the most serious controversies and divisions in the church. It is no longer the meal that unites us but instead has become the meal that divides us.
The most serious controversies regarding the Lord’s Supper emerged during the Protestant Reformation of the sixteenth century, but these controversies were not the first. The first serious controversy regarding the Lord’s Supper occurred in the middle of the ninth century in a small Benedictine abbey (monastery) in France. One party in the controversy was Paschasius Radbertus, who had entered the monastery of Corbie when it was under the spiritual leadership of an abbot named Adalard. (The title “abbot,” given to the leaders of such monastic communities, is derived from a word meaning “father.”) Radbertus became a teacher at Corbie and held that position for many years until the death of a later abbot named Isaac in 844. At that point, Radbertus himself was made the abbot of the monastery and became the spiritual father to the community of monks.
In 831, Radbertus wrote a book entitled The Lord’s Body and Blood. He dedicated it to one of his students, Placidius. Sometime around 844, he revised the book in order to present it as a Christmas gift to Charles II (also known as Charles the Bald), the king of France and the Holy Roman Emperor. Radbertus addresses four basic questions in his work: the relationship between the historical body of Christ and the body in the Eucharist; how the real presence of Christ can be explained when the sacrament is celebrated in many places; the nature of the bread and wine before and after consecration; and the relationship between the sacramental signs and the things signified.
According to Radbertus, the body of Christ in the sacrament is the same historical body of Christ that was visible during His earthly life and in which He suffered and died. If this is the case, then Radbertus must explain how the historical body of Christ can be present in multiple locations simultaneously. This he does by appealing to the creative power of God. The Holy Spirit “daily creates the flesh and blood of Christ by invisible power through the sanctification of his sacrament, though outwardly understood by neither sight nor taste” (III.4).
When he addresses the nature of the bread and wine after consecration, Radbertus indicates that they are completely done away with, although the appearance of bread and wine remains. After consecration, the bread and wine are “nothing but Christ’s flesh and blood” (I.2). According to Radbertus, “the elements are not outwardly changed in appearance on account of the miracle but inwardly, that faith may be proved in spirit” (I.5). In other words, although the bread and wine become the flesh and blood of Christ, they retain the appearance of bread and wine in order to test our faith in God. What this means is that there is virtually no distinction between the sacramental signs and the things signified. They are identical. Although Radbertus posited an actual change of the bread and wine, he insisted that believers, and only believers, receive the body and blood of Christ, and they do so by faith.
Radbertus’ doctrine of the Lord’s Supper was not accepted by all. Various aspects of his teaching were rejected by men such as John Scotus Erigena, Raban Maur (the abbot of the monastery of Fulda), and the imprisoned monk Gottschalk who himself was no stranger to theological controversy. When Charles the Bald read Radbertus’ book, he too had questions about it and asked another monk at Corbie to clarify the matter. That monk’s name was Ratramnus.
Very little is known about the life of Ratramnus. He had apparently been involved in a prior theological dispute with Radbertus regarding the manner of Christ’s birth, and he was obviously known to Charles the Bald for his theological competence. He was the author of books on topics such as the nativity of Christ and predestination, and he defended the Western church’s view of the filioque (the “and the Son” clause added to the Nicene Creed in the ninth century) from the criticisms of Photius, the patriarch of Constantinople. His response to Radbertus’ book on the Lord’s Supper was given exactly the same title: The Lord’s Body and Blood. In it, Ratramnus focuses on two of the issues raised in Radbertus’ book: the relationship between the historical body of Christ and the body in the Eucharist, and the relationship between the sacramental signs and the things signified.
In contrast with Radbertus’ view, Ratramnus denied that the bread and wine become the historical body of Christ that was crucified and raised and now sits at the right hand of God. Ratramnus writes: “By the authority of this most learned man [Ambrose] we teach that a great difference separates the body in which Christ suffered, and the blood which he shed from his side while hanging on the cross, from this body which daily in the mystery of Christ’s Passion is celebrated by the faithful, and from that blood also which is taken into the mouth of the faithful to be the mystery of that blood by which the whole world was redeemed” (§ 69).
In Ratramnus’ view, the body and blood offered in the sacrament are the spiritual flesh and blood of Christ (§ 72). It is still, however, the true body and blood because there is a connection between the sacramental sign and the thing signified. He explains: “Therefore, what appears outwardly is not the thing itself but the image of the thing, but what is felt and understood in the soul is the truth of the thing” (§ 77). As he explains in another place: “Outwardly it has the shape of bread which it had before, the color is exhibited, the flavor is received, but inwardly something far different, much more precious, much more excellent, becomes known, because something heavenly, something divine, that is, Christ’s body, is revealed, which is not beheld, or received, or consumed by the fleshly senses but in the gaze of the believing soul” (§ 9).
The controversy between Radbertus and Ratramnus sparked a debate that continued into the tenth and eleventh centuries, although at times there was some confusion. In 1050, for example, Ratramnus’ book was ascribed to John Scotus Erigena and condemned. The debate that began in the ninth century continues in one sense up to the present day in the ongoing disputes between Protestants and Roman Catholics. In fact, if we examine the views of Radbertus carefully, we can see that he espoused a view that would later develop into the full-fledged Roman Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation. Although this doctrine was officially defined at the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215, it would take the theological genius of Thomas Aquinas, using the metaphysics of Aristotle, to provide a philosophical explanation of the doctrine. We see here an instance of the way in which a seemingly obscure theological debate can have incredibly significant repercussions that no one can foresee at the time.
The views of Ratramnus are somewhat more difficult to pin down than those of Radbertus. He does not advocate a simple symbolic memorialism, as Zwingli would do centuries later. Nor does he advocate anything like the later Lutheran doctrine. If anything, there are some similarities between the views of Ratramnus and the views John Calvin would later teach, but even here we must be cautious because there are also significant differences. Calvin, for example, would agree with Ratramnus when he asserts that we partake of bread and wine with the mouth and the body and blood of Christ by faith. But Calvin would say that we partake in a spiritual manner of the true body and blood of Christ — not what Ratramnus refers to as “spiritual flesh.”
What can we learn from this obscure ninth-century debate? First, we can learn that in a theological debate, it is quite possible for neither side to be completely right. Although Ratramnus taught a doctrine of the Lord’s Supper that is more biblical than that of Radbertus, his own view was still flawed. In the second place, we can learn that when it comes to discerning the truth of a given doctrine, the historical development of that doctrine must be examined with care. Rome tends to believe that whichever view comes out on top historically must be the true view. There are others, however, who make the opposite mistake, automatically assuming that unless their view is the minority view, there must be something wrong with it. Neither approach is correct. If our doctrine is biblical, it is true, regardless of whether anyone else or everyone else believes it.
The book of Hebrews sets the pattern for modern evangelical understanding of the thing, speaking of how the Hebrew people “drank of the spiritual rock.”
For a faith that was first revealed to Jews, this makes colossal, eminent sense. Ask religiously serious Jews to do anything that comes even close to idolatry... and the answer will be a cold nyet. Point them to biblical history, however, and you will have a much warmer reception. Evangelism in that direction has been weak historically. Now it has grown stronger.
The promise of God, not church doctrine, is what has kept the Christian church despite a plethora of confusions in mostly Gentile hands. Salvation by faith prevails against all other folly, and thank the Lord that it does. It is the sign that it is His gift and not our effort.
I tend to go with Calvin on this
Interesting.
I would think there had to be more then that but given how the Catholic Church dealt with those who disagreed I doubt they lived long and their writings surely disappeared.
How about they just did it and didn’t care a lot about the metaphysics... the bread and wine are here, Christ is here, why should we dig for an explanation, let’s just enjoy and thank the Lord.
It’s because explanations arose that were so weird that we are having to bother with counter-explanations. But the situation did force us to back it up from the bible.
An interesting piece on communion.
Communion as a meal of remembrance of Christ’s death and an anticipation of His return, is simple and uncomplicated, as it should be.
It causes no problems with contradicting other passages of Scripture, does not require the kind of mental and theological gymnastics that are required to explain away the obvious complications that arise from declaring that its not symbolic but the real thing.
The irony in all this controversy, is that if communion is symbolic, then Catholics claiming it otherwise, does not make it reality; it is still only symbolic whether the person recognizes and believes it or not.
OTOH, *IF* they are correct, (which I don’t believe they are) and it really does change in substance, then it does so whether the person recognizes and believes it or not.
Because, reality is reality, not because a person recognizes it and accepts it or not, it’s reality because it is reality, truth, standing on its own, independent of people’s opinion of it.
"Mithraism was similar to Christianity in many respects, for example, in the ideals of humility and brotherly love, baptism, the rite of communion, the use of holy water, the adoration of the shepherds at Mithra's birth, the adoption of Sundays and of December 25 (Mithra's birthday) as holy days, and the belief in the immortality of the soul, the last judgment, and the resurrection.
There is an inscription to Mithras that reads: "He who will not eat of my body and drink of my blood, so that he will be made one with me and I with him, the same shall not know salvation."
Can you imagine what she thought of Christianity?
She knew that Mithraism was the religion of the Romans up to Constantine. She could trace most every Catholic belief and practice and relate it to how Constantine incorporated Mithraism into the Christian belief to accomplish the conversion of the people.
BTW Part of Mithraism includes the "shepards at the birth". They were called Magi from Zoroastrianism of the ancient Persians. Any guess where the MAGIsterium got it's name?
Oh, I forgot to mention. The lady became a born again Spirit filled believer.
Nice try but magister is derived from the Latin magnus, great. It means "master, chief, teacher." Its use predates Christianity by centuries and has no connection with the Persian. Nice try though.
If this were a Baptist discussion someone would ask why so many churches ignore foot washing as part of communion.
The arguments about the substances (bread and wine, or body and blood) tend to overlook the Lord’s commandment, “Do this in remembrance of me.” That is what we should be doing.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.