Eucharistic Presence in Calvin
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by Phillip Cary, Ph.D. Is Christ's body objectively present in the sacrament, according to Calvin? Unfortunately, that depends on what you mean by "objective," which is a slippery and ambiguous word with no exact equivalent in the 16th-century discussion. (The word did not begin to acquire its current range of meanings until the writings of Immanuel Kant in the late 18th century). Still, we can always try defining our terms explicitly. And if we do that, we can identify one important sense of the phrase "objectively present," in which Christ's body is objectively present in the sacrament in the Lutheran and Roman Catholic views but not in Calvin's. For suppose we define "objectively present" as meaning "present independent of anyone's state of mind," where "state of mind" includes things like belief. Then Christ's body is not objectively present in the sacrament in Calvin's view but is objectively present in the Lutheran and Roman Catholic views. Let me illustrate. I may believe there is no bread present in the house, but be mistaken: my wife has bought bread and put it in the breadbox where it is objectively present despite my belief to the contrary. Likewise, I can even have bread objectively present in my mouth without believing it: suppose for instance I inattentively pop a piece of bread in my mouth thinking it's a bit of ricecake. The bread is present in my mouth even though I don't believe it. In precisely this sense, according to both Lutheran and Roman Catholic views, Christ's body is objectively present in the mouth of all who partake in the sacrament, whether they believe it or not. This is a form of Eucharistic presence that Calvin explicitly and repeatedly denies, and he quite astutely identifies it as the key point on which he differs from the Lutherans. The point even has a technical name: manducatio indignorum, or the eating of the unworthy. In the Lutheran view, even unbelievers and anyone else who unworthily partake of the supper have not only bread but Christ's body in their mouths, whether they believe it or not. Calvin insists, on the contrary, that we do not partake of Christ's body without faith. In what sense, then, can a Calvinist say that Christ's body is objectively present in the sacrament? I would suggest that according to Calvin's view Christ's body can rightly be said to be "objectively presented" to us. This seems to me a good description of the intention of Calvin's characteristic language of Christ's body being truly offered, exhibited, presented and even given to us. Since that last verb can be misleading, let me clarify: when Calvin says the body of Christ is given to unbelievers in the supper, he means it is offered but not received, like a gift given but refused. People who partake of the sacrament without faith of course do not refuse the bread---they take it right into their mouths---but they do refuse Christ and his body. And their refusal is effective. Again, the Lutherans affirm the contrary: precisely in putting the bread in their mouths, all who partake of the sacrament put Christ's body in their mouths, whether they believe it or not. Roman Catholics agree, except that they teach that the Eucharistic host is wholly Christ's body under the appearance of bread. Those who partake of the sacrament, worthily or not, have no bread in their mouths at all, but only Christ's body. Calvin's view that Christ's body is objectively presented rather than objectively present--—as he would say, "truly presented to us" but not "enclosed in the bread" or "chewed with the teeth"—gives his teaching a distinctive place on the spectrum of Eucharistic doctrine. This is distinct not only from the Lutheran and Calvinist views but also from the low Protestant view usually attributed (I do not know how fairly) to Zwingli. In this low Protestant view the supper is merely a memorial, which means that the only link to Christ's body is our state of mind, our faith. On the contrary, when Calvin insists that Christ's body is truly presented, offered, and given to us, he is talking not about our state of mind but about the action of God, and perhaps the most important thing to pay attention to is the adverb truly, for what is at stake here is the truth of God's word. Does God do as he says when he offers us Christ's body? Calvin's answer is an emphatic yes. With this in view, we can see why Calvinist theologians insist on the objectivity of the sacrament. And we could explain the fact that the unworthy do not partake of Christ's body using this terminology: the offer is objectively made---quite independent of whether we believe it---but subjectively refused. As Calvin puts it, in one of his most helpful discussions of the manducatio indignorum, "it is one thing to be offered, another to be received" (Institutes 4:17.33). What is not objective is whether we actually partake of Christ's body, for that requires precisely our subjective appropriation of the truth of God's word, which is to say, our faith. All this can be explained without using the technical terminology of signum and res (sign and thing signified) which goes back to Augustine. But if we turn to that terminology, I think we will see the fundamental conceptual difference at stake here. There are a number of key conceptual points, going back to Augustine, on which all parties to this dispute agree. Reformed, Lutheran and Roman Catholic all think of the sacrament as a sign that signifies spiritual gifts. What is more---and this is not often noticed---all agree that certain kinds of unworthiness, especially unbelief, separate the sign from the thing it signifies, so that the unworthy receive the signum or sacramentum but not the res. So for instance all agree that those who receive the sacrament in unbelief receive an outward sign but not the inner grace it signifies. Given these agreements, the crucial question is whether Christ's body is signum or res, the sacramental sign or thing it signifies. Calvin's answer is clearly the latter. To see this, those of us who read Calvin in English need to be reminded that when he says Christ's body is the "substance" or "matter" of the sacrament, which he does quite often, the Latin term he uses is res. Thus, in the shared Augustinian vocabulary of 16th-century theology, he identifies Christ's body as belonging to the res sacramenti, the thing signified by the sacrament. That means it is precisely the sort of thing that is not received by unbelievers. It can be properly be said of unbelievers that they receive a mere empty sign---which for Calvin means, the bread of the supper without the body of Christ that it signifies. Or to put it in medieval terms, those who partake of the sacrament without faith receive "the sacrament alone" (sacramentum tantum, which means sacramentum without res). This is just another way of saying "the sign alone," since by medieval definition the sacrament is always a sign, so that sacramentum and res are related precisely as signum and res. And the key point is that those who partake of the sacrament unworthily do partake of the sign, quite independently of what they believe, because to partake of this sacrament is to precisely to take the sacramental sign into your mouth. The difference between Luther and Calvin on this point is that Luther thinks of the body of Christ as the sacramental sign, not just the thing signified (see for instance his Babylonian Captivity, in Luther's Works 36:44). Thus in Luther's reckoning when unbelievers receive the sacrament but not the thing it signifies, this means that they receive no grace or spiritual benefit in the sacrament, but they do receive Christ's body. For unbelief separates signum from res, but it cannot prevent the sacrament from being the sign that it is. So long as the sacrament is present, the sign is present, which includes Christ’s body. Thus even in receiving a “mere sign” the unworthy eat Christ’s body, whether they believe it or not. They are partaking of the body to their own harm. (There is no paradox in this, for Christ's bodily presence has always been an occasion not just of blessing and grace but of scandal and unbelief. It was, after all, quite possible to receive Christ's body and nail it to a tree.) When Luther thinks of the body of Christ as both sign and thing signified, he is following a standard medieval view. Peter Lombard, followed by many other medieval theologians, not only distinguished sacramentum and res, but added a third, hybrid category, sacramentum et res ("sacrament and thing"), to which Christ's body and blood in the Eucharist belonged. Calvin rejects this threefold classification in Institutes 4:17.33 (the same passage cited above rejecting the manducatio indignorum) and specifically denies that Christ's body can be classified as sacramentum. He clearly recognizes the implication: if Christ's body is sacramentum as well as res, sign as well as thing signified, then every valid sacrament will contain not only bread but Christ's body, present in the outward sign whether you believe it or not. And that is precisely what he means to deny. Dr Phillip Cary is Professor of Philosophy at Eastern University. He is author of Augustine's Invention of the Inner Self. He has two books forthcoming from Oxford University Press: Inner Grace: Augustine in the Traditions of Plato and Paul and Outward Signs: The Powerlessness of External Things in Augustine's Thought. He has published numerous articles, including: "Why Luther is not Quite Protestant: The Logic of Faith in a Sacramental Promise" in Pro Ecclesia 14/4 (Fall 2005) and “Sola Fide: Luther and Calvin” in Concordia Theological Quarterly (July/Oct. 2007). His popular lecture series "Luther: Gospel, Law, and Reformation" is available from the Teaching Company. |
























Comments on "Eucharistic Presence in Calvin"
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Fr. Jeffrey Steel said ... (01 March 2008 17:56) :
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Pontificator said ... (02 March 2008 01:38) :
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Fr. Jeffrey Steel said ... (02 March 2008 07:46) :
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Phil Cary said ... (03 March 2008 02:44) :
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Joel said ... (03 March 2008 21:46) :
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Phil Cary said ... (04 March 2008 00:49) :
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Pontificator said ... (04 March 2008 04:22) :
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Joel said ... (04 March 2008 13:51) :
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Joel said ... (04 March 2008 14:00) :
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Phil Cary said ... (04 March 2008 15:40) :
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Phil Cary said ... (04 March 2008 16:18) :
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Pontificator said ... (05 March 2008 11:49) :
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Pontificator said ... (05 March 2008 12:01) :
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Ephraim Radner said ... (05 March 2008 14:38) :
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Pontificator said ... (05 March 2008 21:12) :
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Phil Cary said ... (06 March 2008 02:35) :
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Phil Cary said ... (06 March 2008 02:37) :
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William Tighe said ... (06 March 2008 13:50) :
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Phil Cary said ... (06 March 2008 16:01) :
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Phil Cary said ... (06 March 2008 16:20) :
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Matthew N. Petersen said ... (07 March 2008 02:14) :
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Josh S said ... (05 May 2008 17:46) :
post a commentFr. Al,
This is a very important piece here and I am thankful for you posting it. In the earlier discussion, I remember that it was admitted in one of the comments that Calvin does not believe in the objectivity in the sense that it is described in this article. This is the fundamental difference between the more Catholic minded Anglicans that Alfred G. Mortimer describes in his excellent work 'The Eucharistic Sacrifice: An Historical and Theolical Investigation of the Sacrificial Conception of the Holy Eucharist in the Christian Church.'
He clearly shows the differences between a more continental and Calvinistic view of presence and sacrifice within this book and also mentions Andrewes and others who returned to a more Catholic understanding of the Eucharist in the early C17. He mentions numerous Anglican theologians within the Catholic framework who follow Andrewes as well. I just got the book in the mail this week and it will not be until next week that I am able to look through it. Plus, it's really a fat book!
I know that Dr Cary is keeping tabs on comments, so if anyone has a question for him or would like to engage him in discussion, please do so.
I think the question of "objective presence" is very interesting to how I have understood my work on Lancelot Andrewes. What I have not been able to figure out is how such clear contradictory statements by Calvin and Andrewes can be brought together to be really saying the same thing when Dr. Cary clearly shows that Calvin's view of objective presence is not a view that is held by those who hold more realist positions.
Dr. Cary, do you think that many do not see or hear the Roman or Lutheran churches making the distinction between receiving Christ objectively and the benefits of grace when you receive him in faith? Is this not wrapped up in the Calvinist docrtine of election and predestination where Christ died only for the elect so the elect cannot receive Christ objectively in the sacrament? It would be a "waste" of his precious body and blood in the strict Calvinist view--would it not?
This I believe is the misunderstanding that folk like Mr. Escalante below on this site and the reformed catholicism site are making. The point about the "state of mind" that defines presence for Calvin is contradictory to Andrewes.
There's a fascinating question here. Calvin insists that Christ's body is "truly offered" in the supper, and I described this in my essay as the view that Christ is "objectively presented" in the supper. But as Calvin also insists, to be offered is not the same to be received.
Now add the point that who receives Christ unto salvation, and who does not, is determined by the hidden decree of predestination. Evidently this implies that God truly offers Christ to those who he does not intend shall receive Christ.
The Synod of Dordt thought this point through carefully, and concluded that God did not intend to redeem anyone except the elect. This is the doctrine of "Limited Atonement" (the L in the famous TULIP of 5-point Calvinism). It genmerates a crucial tension, for it means that God truly offers Christ to those whom he does not truly intend to save. The offer, being true and genuine but rejected by the reprobate, can only serve to make them more inexcusably damnable.
The key key pastoral question for a Calvinist after Dordt is: how do you preach this? You can't promise the grace of God promiscuously to everybody. So the offer of grace becomes a call, invitation, and command to believe, rather than a divine promise that reveals God's will toward us. In short, the word by which Christ is "truly offered" to us becomes Law, not Gospel (by Luther's defintion of the terms) because it is a command rather than a promise. It does not give us a gift but tells us what to do.
I think you can see this in Puritan writers like John Owen who understand in a deep way the teaching of Dordt.
Hi, Phil. I saw you today about 10 feet away at the Philly Flower Show as I was headed out (I had a squirmy 5 year old girl on my shoulders in a red and white striped shirt). I would have liked to stopped to chat, but was trying to catch a train!
At any rate, I'll leave aside the Dort discussion (especially since I interpret Owen as largely betraying Dort), but I do think you provide an excellent summary of Calvin's eucharistic theology and the kind of eucharistic objectivity he offers (no pun intended).
I do, however, have a few follow-up questions.
[1] It seems to me that Calvin at least attempts to blur the "objectively presented" and "objectively present" distinction (though he doesn't use that language, of course).
Whereas for Luther, Aquinas, and others, the presence of Christ is tied in some fashion to the consecrated elements, it seems to me that for Calvin, the presence of Christ is tied to what we might think of as the consecrated action, involving the shared elements, naturally, even if not tied to those elements per se.
Calvin uses the image at least once of water poured upon a rock that has no opening to receive it. What I take this image to mean is that those who participate in the eucharistic action are, in some sense, given Christ (and you affirm this much in your exposition). But I think I'd want to press that "given" a bit further than you might.
You use the analogy of refusing a gift. I wonder if Calvin's understanding of those who engage in the eucharistic action might be more like a recipient actually taking up the gift, lifting the lid, taking a peek, and nonetheless pushing it away.
[2] I wonder how far this really is from other views. I get the sense - and perhaps I'm just misreading texts here - that for some folks like Aquinas, Christ's relationship to the eucharistic elements for the unbeliever is akin to the relationship of Olestra to potato chips for those who eat them (I hope that's not an offensive analogy to anyone).
That's to say, yes, Christ is present and received with and in and by means of the eucharistic elements, but because of unbelief, the spiritual system of the unbeliever cannot assimilate him.
If that is a fair read of some authors, how far is that really from Calvin?
[3] Calvin thought his view came from Augustine, though he provided very little by way of Augustine exegesis to substantiate this. A number of Anglican divines, however, were essentially on the same page as Calvin and also cited Augustine in support, though with considerably more exegesis.
What's your read on this, especially as an Augustine scholar? What does Augustine mean when he says things like, "the person who doesn't dwell in Christ and in whom Christ does not dwell, without doubt neither eats his flesh nor drinks his blood, but rather he only eats or drinks the sacrament of such a great thing unto his own judgment" (Homilies on John 26.18). Or, as Augustine says later, the bread that the Eleven ate at the Last Supper "was the Lord himself" but the bread Judas ate was merely "the Lord's bread" (59.1).
Thanks!
Hi Joel,
So that was you at the flower show? Small world!
1. The key point about the refusal of the gift is that it’s effective. By unbelief the unworthy recipients of the sacrament succeed in refusing Christ’s body. Whereas for Lutherans and Catholics, the unworthy do not succeed in this: they receive Christ’s body whether they believe it or not. This seems to me a crucial difference, and I don’t think Calvin wants to smudge or evade it.
2. I’m afraid I don’t know what Olestra is. And again, Calvin insists that Christ is not received by unbelievers in the supper. He’s really very clear on that, I think.
3. For Augustine the thing signified by the eucharist is Christ’s spritiual Body, the church. Unbelief separates a person from this spiritual gift of union with Christ in his Body.
Augustine’s view on the presence of Christ’s literal flesh and blood, on the other hand, is notoriously hard to pin down. Sometimes, e.g. in his Easter sermons addressed to the newly baptized, he says the flesh of Christ is right there on the altar. And other times its presence seems far less objective or literal.
I think the reason for this unclarity in Augustine is that he does not really know what to say about Christ's literal flesh, because in his view it has no salvific power. He mainly wants to direct people’s attention away from it (even if it is literally present on the altar) and toward the spiritual Body, which is where we are to find the power of salvation, in our spiritual union with others in Christ.
Notice that in the same sermon you quote (On John, homily 26:13) he explains why there can be no such thing as life-giving flesh: for everyone knows that the body lives by the spirit, not vice-versa. He neither knows nor has a place for Cyril of Alexandria’s formula that Christ’s literal flesh is “life-giving flesh”--a formula that becomes an official part of the tradition in the council of Ephesus in 431, the year after Augustine’s death.
Calvin, like nearly everyone else in the tradition, gladly uses Cyuril's formula, but it’s foreign to Augustine, for whom no external thing—-not even the flesh of Christ—-can have salvific power. (This is the conclusion I unhappily come to in my book, Outward Signs: The Powerlessness of External Things in Augustine’s Thought, coming out this month).
Regarding Joel's question #2:
Joel, would it be fair to say that, given that all sides agree that the ungodly does not benefit from eating the eucharistic signs (or as Phil writes, "unbelief separates signum from res), your real question is, "What does it matter whether the Eucharistic presence is tied to the bread and wine or not?"
If this is the real question, Joel, then I don't think Phil has yet answered it.
I am reminded of Luther's comment on the necessity of baptism:
"But as our would-be wise, new spirits assert that faith alone saves, and that works and external things avail nothing, we answer: It is true, indeed, that nothing in us is of any avail but faith, as we shall hear still further. But these blind guides are unwilling to see this, namely, that faith must have something which it believes, that is, of which it takes hold, and upon which it stands and rests. Thus faith clings to the water, and believes that it is Baptism, in which there is pure salvation and life; not through the water (as we have sufficiently stated), but through the fact that it is embodied in the Word and institution of God, and the name of God inheres in it. Now, if I believe this, what else is it than believing in God as in Him who has given and planted His Word into this ordinance, and proposes to us this external thing wherein we may apprehend such a treasure? Now, they are so mad as to separate faith and that to which faith clings and is bound though it be something external. Yea, it shall and must be something external, that it may be apprehended by the senses, and understood and thereby be brought into the heart, as indeed the entire Gospel is an external, verbal preaching. In short, what God does and works in us He proposes to work through such external ordinances. Wherever, therefore, He speaks, yea, in whichever direction or by whatever means He speaks, thither faith must look, and to that it must hold. Now here we have the words: He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved. To what else do they refer than to Baptism, that is, to the water comprehended in God's ordinance? Hence it follows that whoever rejects Baptism rejects the Word of God, faith, and Christ, who directs us thither and binds us to Baptism."
Might Luther not also say that faith clings to the Body and Blood; but how can faith cleave to the Body and Blood if it's not contained in the signs given to me?
Phil, thanks. That's all very helpful.
The influence of Augustine is interesting. I'm not sure whether or not Calvin would read Augustine as you do, but it does seem to me that Calvin's theology resonates with Augustine's on some of these points. In particular, even when Calvin uses Cyril's formula of "living-giving flesh" he's fairly quick to qualify that by saying that Christ's flesh in itself profits nothing, but only insofar as it is raised and filled by the Spirit. It's life-giving more as a channel or conduit than in itself.
I wonder how much the pneumatological character of Calvin's doctrine of union with Christ and of his eucharistic theology comes from the influence of Augustine?
"Olestra," by the way, is a chemically modified fat that the human body is unable to digest. Thus, one can eat greasy-tasting potato chips cooked in Olestra without becoming overweight because, while the potato matter is digested by the body, the Olestra passes by. Of course, consumed in any appreciable quantity Olestra can have unpleasant side-effects, as one might imagine.
I was curious whether some views of the eucharist see the reception of Christ in the eucharist by unbelievers as something analogous to the body's reception of Olestra in potato chips.
Going back to Calvin, then, I think part of Calvin's difficulty with allowing that unbelievers "receive" Christ in the eucharist is that this would imply that Christ can be received apart from faith and apart from the Spirit who grants the gift of faith and thereby apart from Christ's saving benefits, which come through union with Christ by the Spirit. But "Is Christ divided?" Calvin asks.
I suspect that, again, the pneumatological character of Calvin's eucharistic theology is playing some role here. If Christ's flesh is a gift of the Spirit and only is life-giving as a conduit of the Spirit, then one who receives the eucharist apart from the indwelling Spirit cannot receive Christ.
From another perspective, unbelievers, for Calvin, lack the organ of reception, so to speak. This much is implied by the analogy of water poured out upon a rock with no opening to take it in. This is also what brought the Olestra analogy to mind.
Having said all of that, I think there are some tensions internal to Calvin's overall theology that are left unresolved. For instance, he maintains that no one says, "Jesus is Lord" except by the Spirit of God, even if such a person later perishes in unbelief. Likewise, he allows that many enjoy for a time some degree of enlightening by the Spirit of Christ, but later be deprived of that benefit through their own ingratitude and unbelief.
In general, as I read him Calvin allows for a certain sort of sharing in the Spirit and benefits of Christ, falling short of a full and proper state of salvation. And while this perspective shapes his theology of baptism (especially with regard to infants), he doesn't seem to ever consider its possible implications for his eucharistic theology.
Fr. Kimel, I think I understand where you're coming from on this, but I don't really existentially feel the force of it.
I would say that we can look to the signs given to us, but those signs are not simply the bread and wine, but the action of the gathered assembly, as the Body of Christ, sharing together in bread and wine. As part of that gathered people, sharing in this action, our faith clings to the Body and Blood offered and present to us.
Or to put it in a way more analogous to Luther's terms, my faith clings not to bread and wine, but to bread and wine comprehended in God's ordinance, embodied in the Word and the institution of God.
Dear Joel and Al,
The contrast I developed between “objective presence” and “objectively presented” corresponds pretty closely, I think, to the contrast between Christ’s flesh and blood being present in the sacramental elements and present in the sacramental action. I take it we agree that Calvin denies the first and affirms the second. The crucial pastoral implication is that for Calvin faith does not cling to the elements—in contrast to Luther, who says that Christian faith “gropes for God in bread.” This makes a big existential difference to those of us who cling with all our hearts to word and sacrament (i.e. external word and sacramental sign) as the means by which Christ is given to us—which is the point of Al Kimmel’s quotation from Luther, and also explains some of the fierceness of Lutheran polemics on this point.
On this pastoral and existential point, I think Luther is with Aquinas, while Calvin is with Augustine. The difference—like many other crucial differences in the doctrine of the sacraments—can be stated in terms of the Augustinian notion of sacramental signs. Augustine treats sacraments as outward signs that signify an inner grace. And then in the 12 century the Summa Sententiarum (attributed to Hugh of St. Victor) made this crucial addition to Augustine: a sacrament is a sign that not only signifies but confers grace. This addition is accepted by Lombard, Aquinas and Luther, but not by Calvin. And without this addition, it makes no sense to cling to outward signs as if they could save you. In my view, the difference between those who accept this addition and those who don’t is the deepest conceptual divide in the Western theological tradition.
It’s a deep divide because it shapes one’s thinking not just about word and sacrament (since both are outward signs) but—most fundamental of all—about the flesh of Christ, which is also external and can be “read” as a sign of grace. I think you’re right that for Calvin Christ’s flesh (like the sacramental elements and the preached word) do not have life-giving power of themselves but only through the work of the Spirit. I take it this is because, like his Reformed confreres in Zurich, Calvin is willing to say, “we place no power in creatures.”
Augustine’s reason for this is similar but more narrowly Platonist: he places no power in externals, which are sensible things, lower down on the ontological hierarchy than the soul. For Augustine causal power never flows “upward”: souls have power over bodies (moving them, giving them life) but bodies cannot have power over souls (except by the soul’s inordinate attachment to them, which is the soul’s doing). And of course God at the top of the ontological hierarchy has power to moves and changes all things, while nothing changes God. So Augustine allows more power to creatures than Calvin, but they agree in assigning no salvific power to external things.
By contrast, Luther assigns salvific power to Christ’s flesh itself. Of course this is in union with his soul and divinity. Indeed, it results precisely from the union of divinity and humanity in Christ, due to which there is a sharing of divine and human attributes or communication idiomatum. This again is a theme from Cyril—the conceptual theme that underlies his formula “life-giving flesh.” And it’s precisely the kind of communicatio idiomatum that the Reformed tradition is least happy with: what the Lutherans called the genus majestaticum or “majestic kind,” in which divine attributes such as omnipotence and omnipresence are vested in the humanity of Christ, even his very flesh. The result is: if the flesh of Christ is literally present in the bread, then it makes perfect sense to grope for God in bread.
So here’s a question for you: does it really make sense to cling to an external thing as if it could save you? I think two profoundly different spiritualities emerge from the two possible answers to this question.
A follow up comment to Joel about unresolved tensions in Calvin's thought. I think you've put your finger on something very important. In my view, Calvin's crucial and radical innovation is the contrast between saving and temporary faith. Everybody knew, of course, that people could lose their faith, but they all assumed that the faith you lost was real Christian faith. Calvin was the first to teach that a faith that does not last is not truly Christian faith at all.
So the question is, what good does this temporary, ersatz faith do you? The Calvinist tradition best known to me, stemming from the Puritans, was usually quite consistent in its answer: it does you no good at all. This means that if you're not confident you have true saving faith, then you'd better not receive the sacraments--an implication that the Puritans recognized in pastoral practice by excluding from communion those who could not confidently profess a saving faith in Christ.
On the other hand, if you maintain the unresolved tension in Calvin and say that temporary faith can do you some real good, at least temporarily, then I suppose you'd get a very different pastoral practice. You could strengthen those with weak faith by directing their attention to how Christ is truly offered to them in the supper.
Or could you? Since temporary faith is by definition a faith that will not persevere to the end, it is also a faith that will never turn into saving faith. What pastoral practice could address such a faith? It would be addressing those sure to be damned.
So I'm not sure how you could use the sacrament to comfort those who are not sure they have saving faith. For unless you end up with saving faith eventually, the sacrament--like the word of the Gospel and even the Atonement of Christ (as in Dordt) is not for your salvation. Without reflective faith, by which I mean the assurance that you have true saving faith, there is nothing that can comfort you. You have nothing external to cling to.
So it may be that the Puritan practice is the only consistent way forward from Calvin's key distinction between temporary and saving faith. And if that's so, then you can't use the sacraments to strengthen the faith of those who are not already assured of their salvation. (For more details, see my next post on Pontifications, which I think will also be posted here on De Cura Animarum).
With both Drs Garver and Cary reading this, I'd like to ask some clarification: Calvin declares that the Body of Christ is truly offered, presented, and exhibited in the Supper. On this all seem to be in agreement.
1st question: Is this offer, presentation, and exhibition of Christ in the Supper any different from the offer, presentation, and exhibition of Christ in the proclaimed sermon?
2nd question: What does it mean to say that the Sacred Body is presented and exhibited? Is this really accurate? After all, what I see offered, presented, and exhibited in the Supper is not the Body and Blood of Christ but the sacramental signs--and I am expressly told by the Reformed theologian that the signs are NOT the body and blood but rather are the vessels, means, and instruments by which the Spirit unites believers by faith to the Body and Blood. Please correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems to me that the Body and Blood are, if you will, one step removed from the sacramental presentation. So while I think it is literally true that the Body and Blood are genuinely offered--"eat these sacramental signs with faith and you partake of our Lord's sacred humanity"-- I do not think it is literally true that his Body and Blood are presented and exhibited. What is literally presented and exhibited are the sacramental signs.
Does this make sense? Do you agree? I'm struggling to find the proper distinctions that both faithfully represent the view of Calvin, while at the same time clarifying the differences between Calvin and Lutheranism/Catholicism.
Thank you for your help.
Joel writes: "Fr. Kimel, I think I understand where you're coming from on this, but I don't really existentially feel the force of it."
I understand! Maybe it does come down to something profoundly existential. One either feels it or one doesn't, and I struggle to express the profound difference between Reformed and catholic sensibility here. That the risen Christ embodies himself as bread and cup within his ecclesial body--the Eucharist makes the Church and the Church makes the Eucharist--seems so right, proper, and necessary to me that I find myself at a loss when my evangelical and Protestant brethren do not also share this view and experience. Such is life in the divided Church, I suppose. Thank you for your good response.
I recently read a fascinating book by the Polish scholar Sergiusz Michalski on Protestant "iconoclasm" and attitudes towards "image" and, by extension, art. A good bit of it focuses on eucharistic teaching, not surprisingly, since the relationship of "body" and "matter" to "image" and "sign" has a broad range of interconnected implications. Michalski (who seems to make some major errors of interpretation here and there, but not so much as to subvert his main interests) is more oriented towards the "broad range" questions, and many of his arguments seem convincing.
For Zwingli: yes, there is no basic difference between the Lord's Supper and a sermon in what is goign on. And if Calvin in fact accepts, on some basic level, the metaphysical logic of Zwingli, which he appears to do, one might say the say thing about Calvin -- except that the the Lord's Supper is a privileged reality wtihin the general framework of relations that link matter, spirit, and God. In any case, Michalski notes how some Eastern Orthodox opponents of the Reformed were up front in posing the question: if it is possible to be "presented" (and one can use this language in the context of this kind of question) with the truth of God through the material imagery of the Lord's Supper, why rule out the divine communicative power of other images? Or, if one insists on the latter, why allow for it in the Lord's Supper? Calvin's appeal to the Holy Spirit's "presentative" role in the Eucharist seems to be a kind of "outlier" (though quite consistent with his larger pneumatology in principle) to his otherwise fairly rigid distinction between "external" and "internal/spiritual" reality, within which the Holy Spirit's conjunctive role seems far more limited. Again, it appears that Scriptural privilege (and possibly simply tradition -- since many strands of the Reformed tradition, and the more "radical" descendents of Zwingli began, practically, to abandon altogether the central importance of the Lord's Supper) is the basis for this.
I am interested in Dr. Cary's sense of how Augustine's fundamental signum/res disjunction -- very important to Zwingli, and used by Calvin -- plays into this general dynamic of systematic rejection externalities (within which, in its own context, he seems to believe Augusinte himself was enmeshed). Was this rhetorical set of semiotic categories ultimately useful or pernicious to Western theology?
Joel, Phil, and Ephraim (and everyone else who knows their Calvin):
Reflecting a bit further on Phil's point that the basic sacramental structure for Calvin is signum and res, would it be accurate to make the following parallel between Baptism and Eucharist? "Submit to Baptism in faith and you will be incorporated into the body of Christ and receive the Holy Spirit" (stipulate the benefit of Baptism as you think best) and "Receive the eucharistic signs in faith and you will partake of the Body and Blood of Christ." If this is accurate and fair, then we might say that the objective offering of Christ to the unbaptized in the Eucharist is analogous to the objective offering of Christ to the baptized in the Supper. Does this sound right?
To Al Kimmel's 2nd question: I think when Calvin says the body and blood of Christ are truly presented and exhibited in the sacramental action, the verbs "presented and exhibited" can be taken as glosses on the verb "signify" that binds signum to res in the Augustinian view of the sacraments. What makes Calvin distinctive is his extraordinarily rich notion of what goes on when the sacraments signify—or rather, when God uses them to signify. For his point is that the signifying is done not just by the signs but by God, who uses them to present, offer, and exhibit Christ's body. So the signifying is not just a property of the sacramental sign but an action of God. That's what gives Calvin's account of the sacraments its peculiar and elusive power.
So in fairness to Calvin, we should grant him the point that "it is literally true that his Body and Blood are presented and exhibited." For this is one of Calvin's central claims. On the other hand, Al, I think you are right to say that in Calvin "the Body and Blood are, if you will, one step removed from the sacramental presentation." For the Body and Blood are presented precisely as thing signified, not as sign. And it is only the sign that is objectively present whether we believe it or not. It takes faith and the power of the Spirit to get us from the sign to the thing signified, from bread to Body.
In Calvin's view of the supper there are two bonds between signum and res, operating in opposite directions, both of which are brought about by the action of God and both of which Calvin habitually describes using the adverb "truly." (1) Through the elements of bread and wine God truly offers, presents and exhibits Christ's body to us. This is what I described as Christ's body being "objectively presented" to us. (2) When we eat the elements in faith, then we truly partake of and are fed by Christ's body, being joined to it by the power of the Holy Spirit. This is what I said is not a form of "objective presence," since it does not take place without our faith.
What Calvin accomplishes by thus making divine action into the underlying power of sacramental signification is to avoid assigning any power to the outward signs themselves. "We place no power in creatures," as he says in Inst. 4:14.12. This does mean we should not "cling too tightly to the mere external sign" (Inst. 4:14.16). And that, I think, puts him on the opposite side of a narrow but very deep gulf from Luther, for whom the very essence of faith is to cling as tightly as it can to word and sacrament, both of which are outward signs.
And to your first question, Al. So far as I can tell, word and sacrament run parallel in every Augustinian theologian, because both are outward signs signifying an inner gift. So if the sacramental sign has no instrinsic power, neither does the word. Thus for Calvin Christ is present not in the word itself but by the action of God joining believers to Christ by the power of the Spirit, just as in the sacrament. And the word itself has no power to change our hearts apart from this action of the Spirit.
Hi Ephraim,
Good to hear from you. I have a whole lot to say about your question in my book Outward Signs: The Powerlessness of External Things in Augustine's Thought, coming out this month. But the short answer is suggested in the subtitle: for Augustine sacramental signs, like all external things, are powerless to give us an inward gift. This is a consequence of the Platonist metaphysics underlying his semiotics, as I explain briefly in an earlier post on this thread (where I talk about Augustine's "ontological hierarchy"). Calvin is Augustine's true follower on this point, though I don't think he has exactly the same metaphysics.
Still, what makes the difference is not the signum/res distinction itself but the underlying metaphysics. Hence beginning in the 12th century medieval theologians, who were not so robustly Platonist as Augustine, could use the signum/res distinction to say what Augustine does not say: that a sacrament is a sign that not only signifies but confers an inner gift of grace. Luther, like Aquinas, is an inheritor of this modification of Augustinian sacramental theology, which assigns efficacy and power to the outward sign of the sacrament. Calvin, on the other hand, rejects this modification and sticks with Augustine. For Calvin, the outward sign is not a locus of spiritual power and therefore not something to cling to. For Luther, when you cling to the outward sign you cling to your salvation.
That's a subtle but profound conceptual difference, hard to get a hold of verbally, but I think it makes a huge difference pastorally. It's a matter of where you direct your attention. Is the inner gift of grace found by clinging to outward signs, or is the proper office of outward signs to point away from themselves to something more inward? Does the sign say, in effect, "Here's what you're looking for!" or does it say, "Look over there, not at me!"
The reason this is so profound an issue is because you can ask the same questions about of the flesh of Christ, which after all is an external thing. Does it say, in effect, "Here is God" or does it say, "If you want to see God, you're not looking at the right thing"?
With respect to the very last paragraph of the preceding comment, and not wishing to take this fascinating discussion off-topic, may I refer you all to that fascinating study *Calvin and Bullinger on the Lord's Supper* by Paul Rorem, which originally appeared as a two-part article in successive issues of *Lutheran Quartertly* in 1988, and the next year was published in booklet form by Grove Books (ISBN: 1-85174-133-X)? My interest here is not so much with its general thesis, that in the discussions that led up to the Consensus Tigurinus in 1549, it was Calvin who (to his seeming later private regrets), made all the concessions and Bullinger none, but to the assertion in footnote 1 on page 52 (the footnotes in the LQ articles are in some disarray). Here is the sentence to which the footnote refers: "*Decades* V, 9 ('Of the Lord's Holy Supper') continues Bullinger's consistent emphasis on the Supper as analogy and testimony, and nowhere speaks of the Supper as an instrument, an implement or means of grace.(1)"
And here is the footnote: "1. *Decades* V, 9, 410, 433 and 467. Bullinger here also continues his explicit identification of heaven as a place, not a state or a condition (448). What was worrisome to the Lutherans and forewarned by Luther (*Short Confession,* LW 38, 306f.) was Bullinger's designation of not only the 'hoc est' regarding the Lord's Supper, but also 'the Word became flesh' regarding the incarnation, as symbolic language not to be taken as literally true, since God was immutable (436)."
This statement, if accurate, seems to provide a hint of an answer to the question of the final preceding sentence.
Al:
A comment that is also relevant to Ephraim's question.
Your Pro Ecclesia article "Eating Christ" (Pro Ecclesia, Winter 2004) sent me back to Sasse, This is My Body. In the long footnote on Augustine to which you refer (p. 19, n. 10) I think his exposition is accurate and his criticism of Augustine largely on target. Yet I do not share Sasse's view of the inherent inadequacy of the signum/res distinction, which can be adequately repaired, I think, by an emphasis on the efficacy of the outward sign--such as arose in the 12th century with the notion that the sacrament is a sign that not only signifies but also confers what it signifies.
The notion of an efficacious outward sign maintains both the distinction between creature and Creator (the bread is not God) and the effective presence of the Creator within the creature (the bread is where we find God in the flesh). For the flesh of Christ is not God, even though it is God's own flesh, through which he effects our salvation. The efficaciousness of this external thing is due to the presence of God in it and united with it.
This can be said, mutatis mutandis, of both the flesh of Christ in the hypostatic union and the outward sign in the sacramental union: they effect our salvation because God is in them. But whereas the presence of God in these external things (flesh and bread) is objective, independent of our faith, its efficaciousness is not—-for neither bread nor flesh do us any spiritual good without faith.
To William Tighe:
Rorem's article is fascinating, as suggests that Calvin's view should not be confused with Bullinger's, even though Calvin did much to reach consensus with the Zurichers, including writing the Consensus Tigurinus.
Calvin's sacramental theology is at its weakest when he is saying things meant for the ears of Bullinger and the Zurichers, like "we place no power in creatures." It is its strongest when he is speaking to the Lutherans, and in effect supplements what he says to the Zurichers by a strong emphasis on God's sacramental action using the elements as means.
And yet--I still think the decisive thing is that the body of Christ is not signum but res, which means that unbelief separates us from it, despite all the action of God joining signum and res. And so far as I can tell the efficacy of the sacramental sign is always a matter of God's doing, not an efficacy he bestows in any way on the outward sign themselves. There is no communicatio idiomatum here, as if divine power could belong to an outward thing.
Similarly for Christ's flesh, as Joel pointed out earlier in this thread (and I quote): "even when Calvin uses Cyril's formula of "living-giving flesh" he's fairly quick to qualify that by saying that Christ's flesh in itself profits nothing, but only insofar as it is raised and filled by the Spirit. It's life-giving more as a channel or conduit than in itself." It sounds like Joel is saying that for Calvin, the flesh of Christ does not say "Here is God" so much as "look beyond me to find God."
I don't know that I'm too well read in this whole thing, but I think taking the Sacrament as a sign of God is a mistake (or at least is confusing today and in our language today a mistake).
Certainly to the Father, the Son is something external and "physical." Yes, the Son is given by the Spirit to the Father, but the Father sees and knows the Son Himself, and not the Son on some higher plane than his external reality.
Similarly, the Father is something externally sensed by the Son. Sensed through the medium of the Spirit of course, but present before His “Senses”. The Son does not perceive an external and relatively unimportant part of the Father, only to have the truly important communicated interiorly. When the Son looks to the Father, He sees the Father. When the Son receives the Father, the Son receives the Father.
And the mystery of the Incarnation—or at least of the Ascension and Pentecost—seems to be that this Divine relation is reproduced here below. Prior to the Incarnation, the God was entirely beyond our perception, and also our knowledge. But by the mystery of the Incarnation, God is present to our senses. As the Father perceives the Son as He is outside time, so we perceive the Son as He is inside time. But in neither case is there a more fundamental reception of the Son communicated the Father that the Son before his senses, nor is it true that a more fundamental Son is communicated to us than the Son present before our senses. Yes, granted, as we could not see the unincarnate Christ in all His glory till He became Incarnate, so we cannot see the Ascended Christ in all His Glory till we are made fully glorious. But here, physically before us, and physically perceived by us is the Blood of Christ—we are in Christ as the Father is in Christ (I John 1). The Father perceives the Blood which cleanses Him (Hebrews), and so we likewise perceive the Blood that cleanses us (I John and Hebrews).
That said, there is, in my opinion, a very important sense that the Sacrament is a sign. To see this, consider the unity sports fans have together and with their team in and from their participation in the team. Forty thousand otherwise unrelated Seattleites come together to cheer for and hope for the miracle of miracles—the lowly Mariners, the nearly-Tampa Bay Mariners, may, just may beat the Yankees overcoming a 0-2 series deficit, and advancing to the ALCS.
Just August 20, the Mariners had been 12.5 games behind Anaheim—essentially out of the playoff chase. But suddenly—“Refuse to Loose”—the Mariners went on a tear and, beating Anaheim in a one-game play-off, captured their first even post-season appearance. But they had dropped their first two games in Yankee Stadium, and there wasn’t much hope as they returned to the Kingdome.
But they gritted out the first two games back in Seattle. Win this one, we win. Lose, we go home, the our Mariners go to Florida. The game is tied 4-4 at the end of nine, and Randy Johnson is pitching on one day rest. Top of the eleventh, the Yankees score one. There was no joy in Se’ttle.
Bottom of the ninth, Cora on third, Jr. on first. “Edgar Martinez, swung ON AND LINED DOWN THE LEFT FIELD LINE FOR A BASE HIT. HERE COMES JOEY, HERE IS JUNIOR TO THIRD BASE, THEY’RE GONNA WAVE HIM IN…THE THROW TO THE PLATE WILL BEEEE…. LATE!!!! THE MARINERS ARE GOING TO PLAY FOR THE AMERICAN LEAGUE CHAMPIONSHIP. I DON’T BELIEVE IT, IT JUST CONTINUES!!! MY OH MY!!! THE MARINERS WILL PLAY FOR THE AMERICAN LEAGUE CHAMPIONSHIP…”
When we all watched this game, the Mariners’ actions the Mariners’ joys were my actions, my joys. The Mariners team, Griffer and Buhner and Johnson Edgar—and of course Dave Nieuhaus’ announcing—passed into me, and into everyone else in the Northwest, and united us as Mariners fans. My I was actually a we. Our we was actually an I. The Mariners passed into us and made us Mariners. Their actions were our actions. (Even today I can’t hardly write this without crying. I was in eighth grade, in Idaho, and shouldn’t have had a care about how that guy does, but somehow, somehow, the Mariners passed into me, uniting me with everyone else in the Northwest, and uniting me to the team.)
I Corinthians tells us that we are united around the Bread. I believe that just as the Uncreated cannot be described with any creaturely similitude, so the Eschatological cannot be described with any temporal similitude; nevertheless, I think that this unity of fans for their team is, in seed form, the unity we experience with Christ in the Bread and Wine. We come together and are united—but are united in what? In Bread. Not in Christ, not in the Spirit (at least not in this verse), but in the Bread. Everything that bread is, we are. Everything that bread does, we do. That bread passes into us, and we become no longer many, but one people, the people of the bread. But that bread is not bread, but Christ. And so we are not united in good taste, or common action, but in the common Action, the Action which is the Bread’s action, not ours. As I was united to Mariner fans everywhere, not by my cheering, but by the Mariners, and our cheering was just our mutual participation in their victory; so we are not united by our partaking simpliciter, but by the action of the Bread—that is by the Incarnation of Christ, in its totality: birth, baptism, fasting, temptation, death, resurrection, ascension, Pentecost, and even Wedding. We are people of the Cross because we are people of the Bread. The Bread is not a symbol of Christ, but is Christ, and thus is a symbol of his whole Person, all His actions. The Bread is a symbol of the Cross of the Resurrection, of the Infancy, of the Ascension, and everything else whatsoever Christ has done is doing or shall do.
Or well, in a Chaucerian deflation, that’s my (probably overstated) opinion.
Dr Carey, I would suggest that this is another manifestation of the syllogisms you talked about in your lecture on Calvin vs Luther on justification at Concordia FT Wayne 2 years ago. The syllogisms in this case are the following:
Calvin
1. God promises that if you have faith, the Holy Spirit will feed your soul with Christ's body and blood in the Lord's Supper.
2. I have true faith.
3. Therefore, I have received Christ's body and blood with its benefits.
Luther
1. Jesus said, "This is my body, etc."
2. God does not lie.
3. Therefore, God has given me forgiveness of sins, life and salvation.
I think it makes sense of things. What do you think?