The whole subject of the Eucharist is one which has occupied this site for a long time. Probably my most read–and infamous–post on the subject was my 2015 piece Bill Clinton’s Eucharistic Theology: It Depends on What ‘Is’ Is, where I tried to use the legal woes of our last Scots-Irish president to make a point about what the New Testament really says about the nature of the Lord’s Supper. I also did a series at my own church on the subject.
What I am going to set for there is specifically aimed at Pentecostals and those who share their idea if not their context, specifically the Charismatics. But first we need to play a parlor game which comes up frequently in Pentecostal academia: what does it mean to be Pentecostal?
Some put the emphasis on the operation of the spiritual gifts. You see this more frequently in Charismatic circles, but it’s a fair question. The problem with putting it first is that it puts the cart before the horse. It ignores the basic questions: why are there spiritual gifts in the first place? Why should God put these in the church? Why isn’t the Word enough, as the cessationists have told us?
Others revert to a cultural answer, waxing in a maudlin way (consciously or otherwise) about the moves of the Spirit in the past in their own cultural context and how this implicitly defines what being Pentecostal means. Any serious examination of Acts 2 should show that the whole point of the day of Pentecost was to see, as Joel prophesied, the Spirit poured out on all flesh. Since all flesh is a diverse group in many ways, it makes sense that the manifestation of the Spirit will vary in like fashion. My last post The Word of God’s Songs of Praise Volume 1 Are Now on YouTube is a good example of that; it was not only different from what Catholics were used to, it was both alike and different from what most Pentecostal churches were doing at the time, and the latter were definitely aware of that. I think it is fair to say that any definition of Pentecost which casts it in a narrow cultural context violates the whole point of the movement.
I think that it is fair to say that at the heart of modern Pentecost is the belief that God, who moved supernaturally in time in the Acts of the Apostles, moves in the same way today. That goes beyond just the spiritual gifts we see discussed in other parts of the New Testament; in includes healing and other miracles as well. That solves another problem cessationist types have been wrestling with: how do we convince people of the truth of the Word in the face of critical Biblical scholarship? The answer is simple: if people see God moving in the same way now he did in the Scriptures, it’s a lot simpler.
And that brings us to the issue of the Eucharist.
The wedding at Cana was Our Lord’s first miracle in his earthly ministry; the Eucharist, save for the Resurrection, was his last. Why Pentecostals would affirm water turned into wine and deny the transformation in the Lord’s Supper is a head scratcher, although there’s been much lame hermeneutic to justify that paradox. In any case the words Our Lord used to institute his Supper are fairly straightforward:
While they were eating, Jesus took some bread, and, after saying the blessing, broke it and, as he gave it to his disciples, said: “Take it and eat it; this is my body.” Then he took a cup, and, after saying the thanksgiving, gave it to them, with the words: “Drink from it, all of you; For this is my Covenant blood, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. (Matthew 26:26-28)
Paul thought enough of this to repeat it:
For I myself received from the Lord the account which I have in turn given to you-how the Lord Jesus, on the very night of his betrayal, took some bread, And, after saying the thanksgiving, broke it and said “This is my own body given on your behalf. Do this in memory of me.” And in the same way with the cup, after supper, saying “This cup is the new Covenant made by my blood. Do this, whenever you drink it, in memory of me.” For whenever you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death-till he comes. Therefore, whoever eats the bread, or drinks the Lord’s cup, in an irreverent spirit, will have to answer for an offence against the Lord’s body and blood. (1 Corinthians 11:23-27)
Most of our ministers, whether they believe in Bill Clinton’s Eucharistic Theology or not (and most do,) “stick with the script,” although a few do not. How did we come to abandon taking this at face value? The first is that there is no physical change in the elements after the consecration, opening us up to the battle cry of “It’s just bread!”
The second–and one that the Reformers of all stripes dealt with in various ways–is that Roman Catholicism overplayed its hand on the subject of the Eucharist. (It still does.) We were regaled with Eucharistic processions, adorations and the occasional miracle. Roman Catholics assured us that, the closer and more often we were to the Body of Christ, the closer we were to the Lord himself.
In the seeds of both of these objections the destruction of Bill Clinton’s Eucharistic Theology can be found.
- The Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist–no matter how you formulate it–is incarnational. Today we take for granted that Jesus Christ came to earth to be a human being “in the flesh” with all that goes with that. And we say that he came to be “in a body.” (The definition of that is not univocal.) What we really needs to realise that that he came at all into this material world was breaking the general order of things , that combining uncreated God with created man is not something to be taken for granted. Rising from the dead was part of that, and the ancients knew that all too well: that’s why the Athenians bucked Paul when he brought up that issue (Acts 17:32.)
- Getting close to the Body and Blood of Our Lord is no guarantee that you have internalised Our Lord into your life. The Pharisees, scribes and other worthies were close enough to Our Lord to spit on him and yet were unchanged by his physical presence other than to be angered by him. Paul brings up the issue of unworthy reception, the poster child for which was Judas Iscariot. It is legitimate to criticise Roman Catholicism’s obsession with this, but the answer is simple: it’s not an either/or proposition but a both/and one.
- Ultimately the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist is supernatural in nature. As I said before, it was Our Lord’s last miracle in his earthly ministry. It is a sad business that people who proclaim that divine healing is part of the atonement (Isaiah 53:5) would turn around and deny what really should be taking place when we celebrate the Lord’s Supper.
It is time for Pentecostals and all those who believe that our God acts supernaturally now as he did when Jesus Christ was on earth and in the years immediately after his Resurrection to claim that he does the same when we gather to celebrate what Bossuet used to call “the sacred pledge of the Eucharist.” It is more than narrow literalism: it is the reclamation of our birthright.
Positive Infinity 