Passage: Lord’s Day 30
Q&A 80 is a section of the Heidelberg Catechism that is intentionally antagonistic. Other Reformed Confessions, such as the Canons of Dort, are written with an explicitly polemical agenda – that is, their authors clearly state their intent to refute heresies or alternate theologies. For the most part the Catechism avoids this kind of language. But here in Q&A 80 the gloves come off. The authors of the Catechism contrast a Reformed understanding of the Lord’s Supper with the Roman Catholic Mass. And they conclude that the latter is a “condemnable idolatry.” Why do they take such a hard line?
To be fair, the position of the Catechism is no longer reflective of the official position of our church. Our denominational translation of the Catechism (available at the above link) brackets the aforementioned passage and adds the following footnote:
In response to a mandate from Synod 1998, the Christian Reformed Church’s Interchurch Relations Committee conducted a study of Q. and A. 80 and the Roman Catholic Mass. Based on this study, Synod 2004 declared that “Q. and A. 80 can no longer be held in its current form as part of our confession.” Synod 2006 directed that Q. and A. 80 remain in the CRC’s text of the Heidelberg Catechism but that the last three paragraphs be placed in brackets to indicate that they do not accurately reflect the official teaching and practice of today’s Roman Catholic Church and are no longer confessionally binding on members of the CRC.
In other words, a majority of members of our church no longer hold to the position that the Roman Catholic Mass is a “condemnable idolatry.” That being said, the passage is still there. Why?
The first is that within the practice of the Roman Catholic Church of the 1500’s there was perceived to be widespread misunderstanding of the purpose and meaning of communion. There were many lay members of the church who had been led to believe that their salvation was in jeopardy if they didn’t partake of the Mass on a daily, or at least weekly, basis. This led to the belief that it was the Mass itself that saved people.
The second is that the doctrine of Transubstantiation – that is, the conviction that the bread and wine of communion become the physical body and blood of Jesus when blessed by a priest – can lead to the treatment of the elements as sacred objects. The bread and wine themselves can be treated with a level of reverence or worship that belong only to God. Hence the conclusion that the Mass was idolatrous.
Our denomination no longer holds to such a sweeping condemnation. However, Q&A 80 contain a caution to members of any Christian tradition. The reality is that anyone who takes communion runs the risk of treating it as a substitute for a relationship with the risen Lord Jesus. If we think of the elements of communion as the thing that makes us right with God, then we eliminate our need for Jesus himself. Communion becomes an act of reconciliation that we initiate and we control. And it risks becoming a sort of spiritual self-medication – so long as we’re taking the elements, we’re saved. The elements are seen as the source of salvation. Regardless of the official position or theology of your church, if you approach communion with this attitude (conscious or unconscious), you’re treating it as a “condemnable idolatry.” A substitute for a living God and his gift of grace.
The Catechism reminds us that our sins have been forgiven, once and for all, by the one sacrifice of Jesus Christ. It is through our union with Christ that we are made right with God. Communion doesn’t forge our union with Christ; it celebrates the union that Christ has already granted. Communion doesn’t save people; Jesus does. We don’t appeal to God on the basis of any other intermediary – religious rituals, good behavior, or holy people. Our appeal is solely on the basis of Jesus' intervention: his death on the cross; his resurrection; and his physical presence in heaven before the throne of God the Father.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Union
Passage: 1 Corinthians 10:1-22
A number of sci-fi programs and novels explore alien civilizations that are extraordinarily collectivist. Two that come immediately to mind are the Borg from Star Trek: The Next Generation and the Formics from Orson Scott Card’s Ender’s Game series. Within these fictional cultures the idea of the individual is foreign. Every representative of the alien race thinks and acts with the goals and interests of the entire race in mind. It is as though individuals exist as expressions of a single entity.
The thing that defines these beings as alien – utterly other than human – is that unity of will and purpose. In the stories, human beings recoil at the thought of a culture in which the individual is lost. When one of these alien societies threatens humanity, the ensuing struggle is seen as a “fight for freedom.” A fight to preserve the individual in the face of forces that will subsume it.
At its heart, the Christian faith is an invitation to the individual to submit one’s identity and will. To find one’s identity as a member of the Body of Christ; and to submit one’s will to the will of Christ. In 1 Corinthians 10 Paul points to episodes in the history of God’s people during which they chose their own way. Turned their backs on God’s overtures and instructions; abandoned the community of believers and their way of life, and charted their own course. Chose the appetites and desires of the individual over the way of the people and the will of God. The Old Testament includes instance after instance in which this course of action leads to disaster. The message repeated over and over is that true humanity is found in reconciliation with the Creator. That people live best when they allow God’s will to restrain and guide them.
The Lord’s Supper is emblematic of our commitment to God and God’s people. It’s not primarily something we take to guarantee ourselves a better life. It’s not a product we consume to enrich ourselves as individuals. It’s an act of submission – to our Lord and to his Body, the church. Submitting to Christ means committing to a way of life. A life of self-giving and self-sacrifice. A life of choosing the interests of others over self-interest. When we partake of the body and the blood we take in the life of Christ and are taken in to his Body. We become one with him and his people.
The paradox is that we don’t lose ourselves in the process. If anything it is in our union with Christ that we truly find ourselves. Our purpose and our worth as human beings become clearer. We become more aware of who we were created to be. This is what we were created for: union with the Creator; union with each other. We find this in our communion at the Lord’s table.
A number of sci-fi programs and novels explore alien civilizations that are extraordinarily collectivist. Two that come immediately to mind are the Borg from Star Trek: The Next Generation and the Formics from Orson Scott Card’s Ender’s Game series. Within these fictional cultures the idea of the individual is foreign. Every representative of the alien race thinks and acts with the goals and interests of the entire race in mind. It is as though individuals exist as expressions of a single entity.
The thing that defines these beings as alien – utterly other than human – is that unity of will and purpose. In the stories, human beings recoil at the thought of a culture in which the individual is lost. When one of these alien societies threatens humanity, the ensuing struggle is seen as a “fight for freedom.” A fight to preserve the individual in the face of forces that will subsume it.
At its heart, the Christian faith is an invitation to the individual to submit one’s identity and will. To find one’s identity as a member of the Body of Christ; and to submit one’s will to the will of Christ. In 1 Corinthians 10 Paul points to episodes in the history of God’s people during which they chose their own way. Turned their backs on God’s overtures and instructions; abandoned the community of believers and their way of life, and charted their own course. Chose the appetites and desires of the individual over the way of the people and the will of God. The Old Testament includes instance after instance in which this course of action leads to disaster. The message repeated over and over is that true humanity is found in reconciliation with the Creator. That people live best when they allow God’s will to restrain and guide them.
The Lord’s Supper is emblematic of our commitment to God and God’s people. It’s not primarily something we take to guarantee ourselves a better life. It’s not a product we consume to enrich ourselves as individuals. It’s an act of submission – to our Lord and to his Body, the church. Submitting to Christ means committing to a way of life. A life of self-giving and self-sacrifice. A life of choosing the interests of others over self-interest. When we partake of the body and the blood we take in the life of Christ and are taken in to his Body. We become one with him and his people.
The paradox is that we don’t lose ourselves in the process. If anything it is in our union with Christ that we truly find ourselves. Our purpose and our worth as human beings become clearer. We become more aware of who we were created to be. This is what we were created for: union with the Creator; union with each other. We find this in our communion at the Lord’s table.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Absence Makes the Heart Grow...
Passage: Lord’s Day 28; Matthew 26:17-30
When I was a kid my parents went on a two-week trip without my sisters and me. The three of us stayed at the houses of different friends. My younger sister was about two at the time, and when my parents returned to pick us up I remember her responding not with tears of joy but with what seemed near indifference. She was busy playing, and was more interested in finishing her game than she was getting in the car.
Very young children have the capacity to adapt emotionally to changes in care environments. Their attachments are formed on the basis of regular contact – they bond with whomever is consistently close by. And it’s remarkable how quickly this bonding process can take effect.
In truth, adults do the same thing in varying degrees. We are shaped most profoundly by those relationships and experiences that are part of our everyday existence. We are much more attached to and influenced by the people we see regularly than we are to those we see occasionally.
Because of this, when we must by necessity be separated from loved ones, we take intentional steps to maintain a meaningful level of intimacy with them. We establish means of communicating regularly. We send letters and pictures. We leave objects that serve as constant reminders – items of clothing; personal belongings; things that connect us to the missing loved ones. These objects keep us close. They instill in us the feelings evoked by the person, and remind us of our commitment to them.
Before an extended departure from them, Jesus gives his closest loved ones a means of staying close to him. Practices and objects that instill the feelings his presence evokes, and remind them of their commitment to him. If his friends didn’t already have a relationship with him, the practices and objects would be void of meaning. But because of their rich and intense fellowship, and because of their commitment, each thanksgiving meal is an encounter. It is as though, every time they eat the bread and drink the cup, he is there with them. He is in them; they in him. They neither forget him, nor who they are with him. Though they are apart, each celebration of the sacrament draws Jesus' friends closer and closer to him.
When I was a kid my parents went on a two-week trip without my sisters and me. The three of us stayed at the houses of different friends. My younger sister was about two at the time, and when my parents returned to pick us up I remember her responding not with tears of joy but with what seemed near indifference. She was busy playing, and was more interested in finishing her game than she was getting in the car.
Very young children have the capacity to adapt emotionally to changes in care environments. Their attachments are formed on the basis of regular contact – they bond with whomever is consistently close by. And it’s remarkable how quickly this bonding process can take effect.
In truth, adults do the same thing in varying degrees. We are shaped most profoundly by those relationships and experiences that are part of our everyday existence. We are much more attached to and influenced by the people we see regularly than we are to those we see occasionally.
Because of this, when we must by necessity be separated from loved ones, we take intentional steps to maintain a meaningful level of intimacy with them. We establish means of communicating regularly. We send letters and pictures. We leave objects that serve as constant reminders – items of clothing; personal belongings; things that connect us to the missing loved ones. These objects keep us close. They instill in us the feelings evoked by the person, and remind us of our commitment to them.
Before an extended departure from them, Jesus gives his closest loved ones a means of staying close to him. Practices and objects that instill the feelings his presence evokes, and remind them of their commitment to him. If his friends didn’t already have a relationship with him, the practices and objects would be void of meaning. But because of their rich and intense fellowship, and because of their commitment, each thanksgiving meal is an encounter. It is as though, every time they eat the bread and drink the cup, he is there with them. He is in them; they in him. They neither forget him, nor who they are with him. Though they are apart, each celebration of the sacrament draws Jesus' friends closer and closer to him.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)