On Thursday I wrote a little bit about John 6 and the Eucharist in response to a conversation I had with Gerry, a non-Catholic. Today I would to take a very brief tour of the belief in the Eucharist in Early Church.
The problem with saying that Jesus is only symbolically present in the Eucharist is that apparently nobody told this to the Early Church. Below are a collection of quotations from Christian documents of the 1st and 2nd Century. These demonstrate without a doubt that Christians have, from the earliest times, understood the Eucharist to be a sacrifice performed by priests in which Jesus Christ is truly present:
Today I’d like to talk a little bit about Jesus’ Real Presence in the Eucharist.
A little a while ago I was conversing via email with a non-Catholic called Gerry. We spoke briefly about the Eucharist and he graciously agreed to allow me to post some of our conversation here. Here’s what he said:
“And the mother of it all, in my opinion, is the Eucharist. Transubstantiation. Utterly abominable. Christ was a “victim” once and it was sufficient forever!
The mass is as unholy as a thing can be. We eat His flesh and drink His blood in the spiritual sense, not literal. And to think they even bow down and worship and kiss that cracker because it is (supposedly) Christ in the flesh. And God won’t judge these abominations?!” – Gerry, Email #2
I’m not going to offer a complete defense of the Eucharist here, many other more capable than I have done that already. Instead, today I’d just like to ask a couple of questions concerning one Scripture passage and then on Friday to take a brief look at Christian history.
Below is part of the “Bread of Life” discourse given by Jesus in John’s Gospel:
I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats this bread will live forever. This bread is my flesh….Very truly I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day. For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in them. – John 6:51-54
There are two main questions I’d like to raise here:
1. How did Jesus’ audience understand Him?
After giving this sermon, many people who had been following Jesus left Him. Why did they leave? It’s because they took Him at His word! They believed that He was saying that they had to actually eat His flesh and drink His blood.They took his words literally!
Souls were lost that day because they assumed Jesus wasn’t speaking metaphorically. This begs the question: if Jesus was speaking figuratively, why did He allow so many to leave Him over a something that was just a misunderstanding? Would God really be that cruel?
2. What would He have had to say if He wanted to speak literally?
When speaking with people who interpret John 6 figuratively, I propose the following thought experiment. Firstly, I assume that they are correct in their interpretation of John 6. Jesus was speaking figuratively. However, I then offer the following challenge: if you wanted to go back and alter John 6 to make Jesus speak literally about His flesh, what would you change? Or, put another way, if Jesus had wanted to speak of his flesh literally, what could He have said to convince you that he was speaking literally and not figuratively? I mean, how could His language have been any more extreme than “my flesh is real food“?
The Catechism of the Catholic Church offers three main guidelines for the interpretation of Scripture.
#112 (1) Be especially attentive “to the content and unity of the whole Scripture”. Different as the books which compose it may be, Scripture is a unity by reason of the unity of God’s plan, of which Christ Jesus is the center and heart, open since his Passover.
#113 (2) Read the Scripture within “the living Tradition of the whole Church”. According to a saying of the Fathers, Sacred Scripture is written principally in the Church’s heart rather than in documents and records, for the Church carries in her Tradition the living memorial of God’s Word, and it is the Holy Spirit who gives her the spiritual interpretation of the Scripture (“. . . according to the spiritual meaning which the Spirit grants to the Church”81).
#114 (3). Be attentive to the analogy of faith.82 By “analogy of faith” we mean the coherence of the truths of faith among themselves and within the whole plan of Revelation.
But what do each of these mean? Here’s my paraphrase:
1. Be especially attentive “to the content and unity of the whole Scripture”
Does my interpretation fit within the overall context of the passage, that particular book of Scripture and all the books of the Bible? How does it fit in within God’s fatherly plan (oikonomia)
2. Read the Scripture within “the living Tradition of the whole Church”
Is my interpretation in line with the consensus of the Early Church Fathers, the Saints, the councils and popes and the Liturgy of the Church throughout the centuries?
3. Be “attentive to the analogy of faith”.
The “analogy of faith” is sometimes called the “rule of faith” and refers to the standard for belief. For the Catholic this means: does my interpretation logically and coherently fit into the Catholic Faith, which is the complete revelation of Jesus Christ as revealed in Sacred Scripture, Sacred Tradition and taught by the Magisterium, the teaching authority of the Church? If it conflicts with other parts of the faith, the interpretation is probably wrong.
A couple of days ago I wrote a post entitled Lex Orandi, Lex Credendi but I realized today that I never explained what that phrase actually means. Bad Pilgrim!
Long before there was the Nicene Creed or the official Biblical canon, there was the worship of the Church. Ever since Pentecost, Christians have gathered together to pray and to celebrate the Sacraments. Therefore, when issues arose in the Church, such as when the canon was being solidified or the creeds were being written, the Bishops would look to the worship of the Church to provide their theological framework in which to address these issues.
It is to this principle that “Lex Orandi, Lex Credendi” refers. It is a Latin phrase which means:
“The law (‘lex’) of prayer (‘orandi’) is the law of belief (‘credendi’)”
This phrase is first found in the works of a Fifth Century Christian writer called Prosper, who was a disciple of St. Augustine:
“Let us consider the sacraments of priestly prayers which, having been handed down by the apostles, are celebrated uniformly throughout the whole world and in every catholic Church so that the law of praying might establish the law of believing“ – Prosper of Aquitaine
It’s a bit like the phrase “You are what you eat”, maybe something like “You believe what you pray”. This is why liturgy was so important to the ancient Church and it’s why it’s important today.
I’ll admit, it took me a long to really wrap my head around why Catholics put such an emphasis on what happens on Sunday mornings. It was only when I started studying the worship of the Early Church that I began to realize its importance and begin to understand the teaching and creedal role of the liturgy. Our liturgy demonstrates what is important to us. It expresses (among other things) what we believe about God, how we understand ourselves and the Church.
So why am I bringing this up? Well, yesterday afternoon I went to Vespers at my Byzantine parish and noticed a couple of things in the liturgy that got me excited which I wanted to share…
I remember the first time I heard the Bible at Mass. By that, I don’t mean the first time I heard a Reading from Scripture in the Liturgy of the Word. No, I’m referring to the first time I heard some words from the lips of the priest and thought to myself “Hey, that’s straight from Scripture”.
Now, I knew some of the more prominent features of the liturgy such as the Gloria, Sanctus and Kyrie came from Scripture, but I thought that was pretty much it. It turns out I was very wrong…
So when was the first time I “heard the Bible at Mass”? Well, I was an altar server and went to wash the priest’s hands prior to the Eucharistic prayer. The priest came forward and, as I poured water over his hands, he said the words “Lord, wash away my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin”. I recognized those words! I had been reading through the book of Psalms at the time and recognized the verse from Psalm 51:
Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin – Psalm 51:2
Sound familiar? 🙂
After that experience, I began to pay closer attention to the words of the Mass. Again and again I found that virtually everything that was said came from Scripture. In fact, now whenever I have non-Catholic Christians attend Mass with me, I invite them to keep a tally of the number of Scripture quotations or Biblical allusions they hear.
So do Catholics know the Bible? Well, maybe better than they think…
John Loncar recently posted a great quotation on Shameless Popery that I found really touching and wanted to share. This is an extract from a letter written by St. Bernard of Clairvaux, a 12th-century theologian and a Doctor of the Church, which he wrote to a couple who had suffered the tragedy of a miscarriage:
“Your faith spoke for this child. Baptism for this child was only delayed by time. Your faith suffices. The waters of your womb — were they not the waters of life for this child? Look at your tears. Are they not like the waters of baptism? Do not fear this. God’s ability to love is greater than our fears. Surrender everything to God.” – St. Bernard of Clairvaux
The Catechism of the Catholic Church offers three main guidelines for the interpretation of Scripture.
A couple of days ago I wrote a post entitled 
Do Catholics know the Bible?
