Communion
Literal Presence of Christ in the Elements
(Part 2 of 8)

Roman Catholics believe that Communion bread and wine are miraculously transformed into the real body and blood of Jesus Christ. This view is called Transubstantiation. Consubstantiation is the word normally associated with the Lutheran view, which claims that during Communion the elements remain unchanged but that Christ’s body and blood literally become present around them. The Calvinist or Reformed view is that Christ is truly present in the elements, but not in his human nature, which is with the Father in heaven, but in his spirit. While these views differ, all of them are literal in the sense that they claim that those who ingest the elements are truly feeding on Christ’s body and blood. The implication is that some form of miracle takes place every time Communion is properly served and received in faith.

There are some common difficulties with this range of perspectives. First of all, if there is a kind of feeding on Christ, there ought to be something in the New Testament that suggests a resulting spiritual enhancement. “Partake of Communion in order that the Holy Spirit might increase within you,” for example. Or, rather than the general exhortation to continue the ritual we should expect such language as, “Partake every month,” or “Partake every morning,” or even, “Be sure to partake in generous quantities.” But there are no phrases like any of these.

Similarly, it is puzzling that the various churches that believe in a literal feeding practice Communion only occasionally. We do not hesitate to partake of ordinary food three times a day. Why do we choose to feed on Christ once a week, or once a month, or six times a year? (The frequency of Communion varies from church to church.) Why is it usually the Catholic practice to partake only partially (with only the priest drinking the wine)? I would think that a belief in a spiritual boost from Communion would drive frequent and complete practice. All of this suggests there is a gap between what is believed officially vs. what is truly believed.

Another difficulty with the idea of literal body and blood is that eating human flesh and blood was forbidden by God. God delineated foods to be eaten in the Old Testament, and then dramatically broadened that selection in the New Testament. Eating humans never made either list. One could argue that Christ is God and, so, the restriction does not apply. But this would be a dangerous argument. Christ came in the flesh—human flesh. And what is under discussion here is a literal feeding on the body and blood of Jesus. The Old Testament strictly forbade the drinking of blood. The disciples would have rightly considered drinking Christ’s actual blood an act contradictory to Old Testament teachings. Be sure you do not eat the blood, because the blood is the life, and you must not eat the life with the meat. You must not eat the blood; pour it out on the ground like water. Do not eat it, so that it may go well with you and your children after you, because you will be doing what is right in the eyes of the Lord. – Deuteronomy 12.23-25

The Calvinist view largely skirts this problem in that it defines the “real presence” as Christ’s spirit, rather than that of Christ’s human flesh. However, there is some difficulty in the view that when Christ proclaimed, “This is my body,” to the disciples, what he meant was, “This is my spirit”. Or, put another way, when he said, “This is my body” he meant, “This is my not-body.” Or even more severe, when he said, “This is my body” he meant, “This is not my body.” The Calvinist position seems untenable.

Another assumption of Christ literally in the elements is that a miracle takes place. I have no objections with miracles. I don’t doubt that God has done quite a few of them…and always for some wondrous good. So, the more the merrier. But God’s use of miracles has been severely limited. The earthly miracles generally have provided some sort of delivery, whether from social bondage, sustenance deprivation, physical handicap, or even death. In addition, they have always served as a validation of the one performing the miracle. Those performing miracles in the Bible were always recognized (at least by those who were not willfully blind) as bearing God’s authority.

These markers of the Biblical miracles are not evident in any sort of translation of the Communion elements. If a miracle takes place during Communion, there is no evidence of it. Evidence is inherent in the very idea of miracle. Whenever people saw a miracle they reacted in astonishment. “Wow, the Red Sea stood on end while our group crossed. But then it rushed back into place when our enemies pursued us! That doesn’t happen every day. What explanation can there be for this other than the hand of the Creator of the universe?” When Jesus approached the grave of Lazarus, all who were with him expected Lazarus to be stinking, decomposing, and inert. When Lazarus walked out of his tomb, everyone was stunned. This is the nature of miracles. They are very physical, baffling, and contrary to ordinary experience. More importantly, they are wonderful acts of grace; all but the most calloused react in delight, amazement and, worship.

One might counter that the lack of evidence of something taking place is the same problem faced with all matters of faith—that we believe in spite of not having irrefutable evidence. But this objection does not represent the meaning of faith.

We have faith in many things, such as faith that the plane we clamber onto will not fall out of the sky, or that Cap’n Crunch provides sustenance because there is a picture of a kindly Quaker on the box. Or we may jump off a bridge, full of faith that God’s angels will catch us and place us gently on the ground. There is this false notion that if we squint our eyes hard enough, if we put on ruby slippers and click our heels, if we really force ourselves to believe without doubting, if we lay down our lives for the cause, God will be impressed and will provide for us in accordance with our hopes and expectations. However, human conviction, of itself, is worthless. Faith is only of value when it is assigned to something or someone worthy of faith. Faith without foundation is just another way of saying “stupid”.

So the question returns to this: are our faith expectations from Communion based on clear words from our reliable Lord, or are we manufacturing something we wish he had meant? Who could blame anyone for desiring more of God or for desiring a greater portion of his Spirit? But the Spirit of God cannot be conjured up.

Others argue that it is not a miracle that is taking place in Communion—it is a mystery. “We don’t know exactly what takes place…and we don’t know how it takes place. What we know is that Christ has told us it’s taking place and that there is something wonderful about it. There is something about mystery that evokes the majesty of God himself.” It’s hard to know how to feel about this perspective. To embrace a feeling of awe and wonder about the Lord of the universe through activity in the Church does seem to be a good idea. But I worry about what it means to embrace mystery. The teaching of Scripture does not tell us to embrace mystery. To the contrary, what we read over and over in the New Testament is the great mysteries have been explained to us. “My purpose is that they may be encouraged in heart and united in love, so that they may have the full riches of complete understanding, in order that they may know the mystery of God, namely, Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.” – Colossians 2.2,3

Where mystery is used to refer to something unfathomable, it is used in reference to Christ, himself. (He loved us when we despised him. How can it be that he is so wonderful?) Beyond all question, the mystery of godliness is great: He appeared in a body, was vindicated by the Spirit, was seen by angels, was preached among the nations, was believed on in the world, was taken up in glory. – 1 Timothy 3.16.

Even in the most difficult book of the New Testament, the book of Revelation, “mystery” is always used in the context of something that is about to be explained. Except for one instance, that is: This title was written on her forehead: Mystery; Babylon the Great; The Mother of Prostitutes; and the Abomination of the Earth. – Revelation 17.5. The New Testament gives no hint that the Church is to dabble or be excited about mysteries. To the contrary, it is to be filled with excitement about the revelations. Has God revealed everything to us? Of course not. But we celebrate what he has made known to us, not what he has determined we do not need to know, or what we are incapable of understanding.

There is one additional concern related to the literal presence of Christ in the elements. What do we do with the actual Christ, who was present at the inauguration of Communion? The phrase, “This is my body,” comes from the mouth of Jesus as he is sitting at the table with his disciples, his heart busily circulating the blood within his physical body. He does not say, “This will be my body;” he says, “This is my body.” It is clear he does not mean the elements are his body in the same sense we would normally understand the phrase. The listener is required to make some sort of inference as to his meaning. Did he mean that he had turned the elements into his body? Did he mean that he had permeated the bread and wine with his body and blood? Did he mean that he had placed his spirit in the elements? On what basis would we think any of these options took place? Is the basis the assumption that Jesus’ statement must be taken literally? There is this exegetical principle that says, “All things being equal, default to a literal interpretation.” Well, okay. It my not be an Inspired perspective but it probably bears out a high percentage of the time. But before the point is conceded, we must not rush too quickly to accept that “all things are equal”. Are there reasons to think Jesus is using a figure (or a metaphor) here?

(end of part 2 of an 8 part series)