Calvin. History and Reception of a Reformation Week 2. Calvin's Thought Sequence 9. The Lord's Supper The Lord's Supper (or Eucharist): no issue was more divisive among Protestants in the 16th century. In fact, this division played an important role in the establishment of a Reformed Church alongside the Lutheran Church. The communion table has long been a source of division, not only among Protestants, Catholics and Orthodox Christians, but also within Protestantism itself. Though the 20th century witnessed much progress towards some sort of consensus among the various Protestant denominations, there is still a long way to go. The Eucharist (Latin: coena, meaning "meal") -- the sharing of bread and wine -- is a liturgical act which goes back to the very first Christian communities. It was originally practiced by Jesus and his disciples. For Calvin, there are two sacraments: baptism and the Lord's Supper. They have in common the fact that they employ what Calvin calls "external elements" -- material things such as water, bread, wine -- which are signs
pointing to a reality that is not "of this world." Thus they are "elements of the world" through which God achieves an ulterior purpose. What is the meaning of this meal, the Lord's Supper (or Holy Communion)? It took Calvin some time to clarify his thoughts on the matter. Here I will be basing myself on the final exposition of Calvin's ideas, as published in the late 1550s. Calvin was convinced that his interpretation of the Lord's Supper (or Eucharist) opened up the possibility of reconciliation among the various Protestant factions, and even reconciliation
with Roman Catholicism, should it renounce certain doctrines. Calvin viewed his position -- rightly, in my opinion -- as a "via media" (middle way) between the extremes represented by Zwingli, on the one hand, and Luther on the other. Zwingli and Luther had come to an theological impasse concerning this issue at the Marburg Colloquy of 1529. For Zwingli, the Eucharist is first and foremost a memorial to the sufferings of Jesus Christ. It is therefore a human act, rather than one during which God acts. Nothing is conferred during this sacrament, least of all the body and blood of Jesus by way of the bread and wine. The gathered assembly commemorates the events of Jesus' life, and specifically his crucifixion and resurrection, understood as the "salvific event." The community testifies to its faith by coming together and celebrating this meal. There is no actualization of the salvific (the crucifixion and resurrection), only commemoration. For Zwingli, no material object or external thing can ever confer faith. For Luther, on the other hand, when Jesus says in the Gospel: "this is my body" and "this is my blood," the word "is" is to be taken in a literal, real sense. Jesus' body and blood are, in a real, literal sense, conferred -- given, present -- in the wine and bread consumed during the Eucharist. For Luther, however, the bread and the wine do not disappear when the body and blood are given (or conferred) -- there is no transubstantiation. The material elements -- the bread and the wine -- do not disappear, as if replaced by the body and blood of Jesus; as if only the accidental properties of the bread and wine -- their
smell, their taste -- remained (which is the Catholic doctrine, as defined by the Fourth
Council of the Lateran in 1215). Luther's position is often referred to as "consubstantiation," as a way to distinguish it from the notion of transubstantiation. The substances of the bread and the wine, as well as of the body and blood, are given together. Luther thus remained fairly close to the Catholic doctrine, even though he rejected transubstantiation. How does Calvin's position compare to those of Zwingli and Luther? As I was saying, it represents a middle way between them. Calvin gives the Eucharist two dimensions, which he insists must not be confused: the earthly dimension and the spiritual (or celestial) dimension. On the one hand, the Eucharist represents something, namely, the events of the crucifixion and the resurrection. It thus includes an element of commemoration, i.e., the bread and the wine are symbols (or signs) of the salvific events. In this, Calvin's position is close to Zwingli's. There is no new sacrifice, only commemoration. The bread and the wine are signs -- signs that must not be confused with the things they indicate. This terminology of "signs" (or symbols) and "things represented by the signs" (i.e., symbolized) comes from St Augustine. Yet Calvin also goes beyond Zwingli's position. Indeed, he echoes Luther when he says that something is truly conferred during the Lord's Supper: the body and blood of Jesus Christ. Calvin writes: "We must have indubitable faith that when we partake in the symbol of the body,
in the same way do we partake in the body itself." For Calvin, then, the Lord's Supper is more than a memorial, but less than a sacrifice consisting in a re-actualization of the salvific event. There is a real presence, even though this presence cannot be "locally enclosed" in the bread and the wine. The presence of Christ cannot be constrained or restricted to anything material or physical, i.e., to anything belonging to our world. For Calvin, the Lutheran Eucharist "immures the body [of Christ] as if in a hiding place." To summarize: Calvin goes against Catholicism by asserting that the visible sign (the bread and wine) is not cancelled by the "thing symbolized" (i.e., the spiritual reality to which the
sign is pointing). Calvin diverges from Zwingli by saying that, beyond the visible sign, there is a spiritual reality conferred, or given, in the performance of the sacrament. In the eyes of Zwinglians, consequently, when Calvin claims real presence of the body and blood, as opposed to mere representation, symbolism or commemoration,
he becomes a sort of crypto-Catholic. For Zwinglians, many passages in Calvin's work are to be either ignored or corrected, particularly those in which he presents the celebration of the Lord's Supper as a sacrament by virtue of
which a presence is conferred to the community. For Lutherans, on the other hand, Calvin's ideas are much too close to those of Zwingli, since they profess not only a presentation of the body and blood in the partaking of the bread and wine,
but also a representation, that is, a distance (or difference) between the material species (bread and wine) and what these signify (or symbolize). The bread and wine are not the body and the blood; they are figures that represent the body and the blood. This very Zwinglian position of Calvin's brought him much
criticism from Lutherans. Over the past five centuries, as regards Calvin and the Lord's Supper, some have tried to push him towards the Zwinglian side, whereas others have highlighted the ways
in which he echoes Lutheranism. The potential for being torn between two extremes is indeed
one of the problems associated with any "via media," or middle way. One very important aspect of Calvin's thought concerning the Eucharist is the role of the Holy Spirit -- its power or, as Calvin puts it, its "virtue." Here we have a decisive aspect of Calvin's teaching on this matter: it is the Holy Spirit which communicates to the gathered assembly the body and blood of Christ, which are
represented by the bread and the wine. Through the Spirit, there is true communication -- communion, union, participation in Christ. Thus there is in the Spirit a real spiritual presence. The question is not whether the body and the blood are present, but how. Calvin does not question whether such a presence exists, but seeks to define the manner in which the Spirit is present. The Spirit is the divine power, or divine virtue, that enables the faithful to communicate -- to be in communion -- with the body and blood of Christ through specific material elements
(bread and wine). Just as bread and wine nourish and delight human beings, so does the body and blood of Christ nourish and support the spiritual life of the community. For Calvin, then, the Lord's Supper is a "spiritual banquet" that "confirms, comforts, recreates and delights." Thus Calvin, unlike Zwingli, does not reduce the Lord's Supper to a merely human act -- a memorial, a commemoration, a testimony of faith by the community. Granted, it is a human celebration, but not only: in it, God, as the Holy Spirit, unites Christ -- who, since his ascension, no longer has a physical presence in this world-- with the
community of believers. The Spirit effects this connection between Christ and the community of Christians. With the Eucharist, Christ has "brought closer to us the benefit of life of which he is the source." God, then, has fulfilled his promise: to give life, to give His life, to cause life to flow in His creatures. Calvin writes: "He pours His life into us, as if He were entering into our bones and marrow [...]
to accomplish what He promises." This divine action is followed by a human response: the expression of praise and gratitude. Calvin writes: "The Lord's Supper induces thanksgiving." God's grace, God's goodness, finds its response in human gratitude. Grace (Greek: charis) is echoed by gratitude (Greek: eucharistia, reprising the root "charis') -- hence the title of Brian Gerrish's book "Grace and Gratitude." Calvin writes: "We say that Christ descends to us, as well by the external symbol as by his Spirit, that he may
truly quicken our souls by the substance of his flesh and blood." God -- Father, Son, Spirit -- is the source of life, in a story that includes and overcomes death, a story of which the Lord's Supper is the visible, material, sensory expression. Here again, God places Himself on our level in order to communicate with us. Likewise, baptism enables the believer's participation in this story of life and death. The Lord's Supper unites the Christian community in a single body. As the visible Word, it constitutes the Christian community, the ecclesial body, in the same way that the preaching of the Word constitutes the Church. This has very important ethical consequences, which I'd like to emphasize. Calvin writes: "We shall have profited admirably in the sacrament, if the thought shall have been impressed and
engraven on our minds, that none of our brethren is hurt, despised, rejected, injured, or in any
way offended, without our, at the same time, hurting, despising, and injuring Christ; that we
cannot have dissension with our brethren, without at the same time dissenting from Christ;" "that we cannot love Christ without loving our brethren; that the same care we take of our own body we ought to take of that of our brethren, who are members of our body." This passage is taken from the fourth and final book of the "Institutes." Sacraments, then, confirm us in our faith; they are for us an exercise in the protestation (in the sense of "profession") of our Christianity. Calvin recommends "frequent use" of the Lord's Supper -- "at the very least, once in each week." Reformed Protestantism, in what is a reflection of an almost primal anti-Catholicism, has not followed this recommendation -- a development certainly bemoaned by some.
