Category Archives: Sacraments or Ordinances

Floating with the Elephant—Toward a Fuller Doctrine and Practice of Water Baptism (Part 2 of 3)

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elephant floatingFor as the word of God, by the mysteries which it contains, exercises the understanding of the wise, so usually by what presents itself on the outside, it nurses the simple-minded. It presents in open day that wherewith the little ones may be fed; it keeps in secret that whereby men of a loftier range may be held in suspense of admiration. It is, as it were, a kind of river, if I may so liken it, which is both shallow and deep, wherein both the lamb may find a footing, and the elephant float at large. (Gregory the Great, Morals on the Book of Job, pref. 4)

These words from the preface of Gregory the Great’s Morals on the Book of Job beautifully describe the depth of meaning associated with sacred Scripture. Novices can understand its straightforward message of what to believe and how to live . . . experts can expend a lifetime of scholarly toil wrestling with its profound depth and complex intricacies. Like a lamb wading in the shallows, new believers can refresh in Scripture’s simplicity. Or like an elephant floating in the depths, mature believers can fill their open minds with awestruck wonder. How can the same Scripture be both shallow and deep? Because of “the mysteries which it contains.”

Like Scripture, God has given to the church sacraments, or “mysteries,” which are also both shallow and deep: baptism and the Lord’s Supper. Many Christians have been taught only one or two facets of these mysteries, unwittingly exchanging a deep river for a babbling brook. Yes, those who understand just the basic significance of the sacraments are still experiencing the water like a lamb finding a footing in an ankle-deep stream . . . but how much more rich their experience would be if they delve into the depths of these mysteries, floating at large with the elephant in an ocean of meaning!

The first two facets of water baptism discussed in part 1 of this series emphasized the confessional function of the practice—1) a public proclamation of faith in the Trinitarian creation and redemption narrative and 2) a personal association with the death and resurrection of Christ. The next pair treated in this essay emphasize the practical dimensions of baptism—3) repentance from a life of sin and 4) commitment to a life of sanctification.

In the earliest known record of pre-baptismal teaching for Gentile converts to Christianity, The Didache (c. 50–70), we see two very different lifestyles contrasted as “the way characterized by life” and “the way characterized by death” (Didache 1.1). After describing in some detail the new lifestyle of righteousness expected of believers (1.2–4.14) contrasted with the old lifestyle of wickedness expressed by unbelievers (5.1–6.3), the Didache presents the act of baptism itself as that pivotal point at which a believer makes the official, public, one-time turn from the path of sin and death to the path of righteousness and life. Chapter 7 begins, “Now concerning baptism, baptize as follows: after you have reviewed all these things [the old lifestyle of death and the new lifestyle of life], baptize in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (7.1–1).

Thus, in the earliest church during the time of the apostles, the single act of baptism simultaneously marked the convert’s official exit from the road of darkness and death and his or her commencement of a journey on the road of light and life (Rom. 6:13; Eph. 5:8; Col. 1:13; 1 Pet. 2:9). In the original practice of Christian baptism, the believer entered the water as the decisive visible act of departing from the broad path that leads to destruction (Matt. 7:13). He or she then came out of the water having committed to traveling the narrow path that leads to life (Matt. 7:14). At that very moment the believer’s entire trajectory—including values and morality—had changed. The baptized believer had once been walking according to the course of this world (Eph. 2:2), but now they had committed to walk in newness of life (Rom. 6:4).

Let’s look briefly at each of these opposite directions of the moral compass—the repentance that turns from a life of sin and a consecration that turns to a life of sanctification.

3. Baptism as Repentance from a Life of Sin (Acts 22:16; 1 Cor. 6:11)

Since the ministry of John the Baptist, the act of water baptism was connected to repentance from a life of sin. Mark 1:4–5 says, “John appeared, baptizing in the wilderness and proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And all the country of Judea and all Jerusalem were going out to him and were being baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins” (see also Matt. 3:11; Luke 3:3). The Greek word for “forgiveness” here is aphesis, indicating a “release.” It could refer to a release from the guilt and consequences of a person’s sins, but it also relates to a release from the life of sin. This is why along with “water for repentance,” John preached that those who were baptized should “bear fruit in keeping with repentance” (Luke 3:8; Acts 26:20).

Though people sometimes attempt to draw a heavy line between John’s baptism of repentance from a life of sin and the Christian baptism of association with Christ in the name of the triune God, Jesus Himself made it clear that repentance, baptism, and a release from a life sin were meant to continue on in the proclamation of the church. In Luke 24:47, the resurrected Jesus said that “repentance and forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem.” This corresponds with the mandate in Matthew 28:18, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” Thus, the practice of baptism as the mark of repentance from a life of sin continues from the ministry of John the Baptist into the Christian era. With that turning from a life of sin, the baptized believer experiences a “release” (aphesis) from its enslavement.

In another place, I have shown that the references to “repentance” and being once “enlightened” in Hebrews 6:1, 3, and 6, when read in light of an early Christian catechetical background like that found in the Didache, reveals that “baptism” was often used interchangeably with the words “repentance” and “illumination.” The former, repentance, referred to the turning from sin to righteousness. Illumination referred to the transferal from the domain of darkness to the domain of light. Thus, when Peter cried out to the Jews, “Repent, and each of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins” (Acts 2:38), the baptism itself was their act of repentance, releasing them from a life of sin, just like John’s baptism had marked the same conversion for sinful Jews.

The implication is clear: at baptism, believers were not simply confessing their personal faith in the triune God and associating with the death and resurrection of Christ. They were publicly testifying to their repentance from a life of sin. This is why baptism was often metaphorically described as “washing away sin” (Acts 3:19). Just as the blood of Christ spiritually and invisibly pardoned and cleansed a believer of all sin and guilt before God, the act of baptism publicly and visibly transitioned that believer out of a life characterized by sinfulness. This is why Paul was able to say in 1 Corinthians 6:9–11, “Do not be deceived; neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor homosexuals, nor thieves, nor the covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers, will inherit the kingdom of God. Such were some of you; but you were washed, but you were sanctified, but you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God.” Though the believers in Corinth had once lived lives characterized by sinfulness, they had been washed by baptism: set apart and declared righteous. That Paul most likely had the moment of water baptism in mind as that mark of repentance from a sinful life is suggested by his mention of the triune Persons: “in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ [the Son] and in the Spirit [the Holy Spirit] of our God [the Father]” (1 Cor. 6:11; compare Matt. 28:19). Though a believer is spiritually and invisibly forgiven of their sin and guilt and justified before God by grace through faith alone (Eph. 2:8–9), this spiritual reality is manifested before all through the act of water baptism, by which the regenerated believer visibly washes away his or her former lifestyle of sin by this solemn act of repentance

This rescue (or salvation) from a destructive sinful lifestyle is also in Peter’s mind when he says that “baptism . . . now saves you” (1 Pet. 3:21). Some have taken this to mean that the act of water baptism itself somehow applies saving grace to the individual, so without baptism a person cannot be eternally saved. However, when we understand Peter’s imagery and typology in this passage, such a view doesn’t hold water. Peter said that baptism corresponds typologically with the water of the flood. Note the analogy Peter draws: Noah constructed the ark, “in which a few, that is, eight persons, were brought safely through the water. Corresponding to that [water], baptism now saves you” (1 Pet. 3:20–21). So, in a way similar to the salvation achieved for Noah and his family through the waters of the flood, the waters of baptism now “save” believers in Christ. How did the waters of the flood save Noah? Peter’s second epistle tells us that the utterly sinful world, which stood under the just condemnation of God, was “destroyed, being flooded with water” (2 Pet. 3:6). Noah and his family were then deposited in a “new” world, washed clean of sinfulness. Similarly, the believer enters the water as a citizen of an old world—their world of sinfulness, darkness, and destruction. They then come out of the water as citizens of the new world—a world of righteousness, light, and life. The waters of baptism, according to Peter’s imagery, “save” a person from a lifestyle of sin, because baptism marks the moment of that person’s official, solemn abandonment and release from the sin that once characterized his or her life: “Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come” (2 Cor. 5:17).

Yet baptism as repentance from a life of sin is only one end of the compass. It represents the orientation and trajectory of the person prior to entering into the water. Nobody remains buried in the waters that wash them clean of a lifestyle of sin. As the believer died to the former direction of the “sinner,” he or she rises again facing a new direction: the life of a saint. This leads us to the opposite end of the compass to which the believer turns through baptism as a pledge to live a sanctified life.

4. Baptism as a pledge to live a sanctified life (1 Pet. 3:21)

Turning from a life of sin automatically involves turning to a life of righteousness, as does turning to a life of righteousness means forsaking a life of sin. Thus, as I have been saying, the third and fourth facets of baptism are inseparably linked. Paul wrote with the same dip of his pen, “You were washed . . . you were sanctified” (1 Cor. 6:11). Washing indicates the eradication of the dirtiness of a person’s immoral life. Sanctification means the setting apart unto a clean life.

From the beginning of the New Testament church, then, baptism involved not only the outward sign of one’s decision to abandon a life of sin, but also—in the same held breath—the commitment, pledge, or vow to live the Christian life by the power of the Spirit. It’s the pledge to live out “deeds appropriate to repentance” (Acts 26:20). Just as believers turned away from their trespasses and sins in which they “formerly lived” (Eph. 2:1–2), they committed to walk in “good works” (Eph. 2:10). Implied in the act of baptism as a solemn mark of repentance is the idea that the one being baptized was committing to live as a disciple, dedicated to observe all that Christ commanded (Matt. 28:20).

For explicit language related to baptism as a “pledge” or “oath,” however, we turn again to 1 Peter 3:21. After saying that “baptism . . . now saves you,” he clarified the precise nature and power of the rite he had in mind: “not a cleansing of dirt from the flesh”—that is, this wasn’t a bath to scrub the body—“but a pledge to God from a good conscience” (my translation). The second part of this statement has been variously translated as “an appeal to God for a good conscience” (NASB), “the answer of a good conscience toward God” (NKJV), and “the pledge of a good conscience to God” (NET). The Greek text itself is not clear whether baptism is meant to be the act that appeals to God for a clean conscience, or that baptism is a response to God with a commitment to holiness because of the conscience that has already been cleansed. It seems to me that the second option best fits the context and the overall teaching of the New Testament. Thus, the emphasis is on baptism itself as a visible pledge of the believer to God before many witnesses to forsake the lifestyle of sinfulness and begin a new way of life—like a wedding ceremony is a pledge of fidelity to one’s new spouse and faithfulness to the married life.

In this view, the language of 1 Peter 3:21 is best understood as indicating a personal “oath,” “vow,” “pledge,” or “promise,” in which the recipient of baptism thereby swears to live the Christian life by the help of the Spirit. In one of the earliest descriptions of how Christians baptized new believers, Justin Martyr said that baptism was administered to those who “are persuaded and believe that what we teach and say is true, and undertake to be able to live accordingly” (1 Apology 61). By submitting to water baptism, the new Christian was publically confessing his or her faith and promising to walk “by the Spirit,” the lifestyle associated with “the way of life,” that is, the sanctified life of discipleship to Jesus Christ.

Let me make one final clarifying note regarding baptism in order to clarify a common misunderstanding. Although the idea of “baptismal regeneration” is widespread among the early church fathers, it should not be confused with the notion of “baptismal salvation” in the sense of the water itself affecting a person’s eternal position before God. In the early church, the term “regeneration” or the “new birth” originally referred to a practical change in lifestyle—the very act of repentance from a life of sin to a life of righteousness we’ve discussed in this essay. The candidates for baptism had resolved to live new lives, abandoning their lives of unbelief, idolatry, and sin. The early Jewish Christian communities regarded baptism as the conscious decision to abandon the “path of death” characterized by sin and to begin a journey on the “path of life” characterized by righteousness (see Didache 1–6). Even in the New Testament baptism is metaphorically associated with being “made alive” (Col. 2:12–13) and setting a believer on the path of “newness of life” (Rom. 6:4).

Given this background of instruction that contrasted death and life, the language of “regeneration” in the earliest church fathers likely derived from the notion that baptism was the point of one’s conversion from the lifestyle characterized by death to a lifestyle characterized by life. Similarly, the early church also referred to baptism as “illumination” or “enlightenment,” as baptism marked the new believer’s change of course from the “path of darkness” to the “path of light” (compare Epistle of Barnabas 18.1).

This early Christian idea of baptism “washing” away an old lifestyle of sin and initiating a believer, empowered by the Spirit, into a new lifestyle of righteousness, is expressed well by Irenaeus of Lyons (c. A.D. 180):

When, therefore, did we bear the image of him who is of the earth? Doubtless it was when those actions spoken of as “works of the flesh” used to be wrought in us. And then, again, when [do we bear] the image of the heavenly? Doubtless when he says, “Ye have been washed,” believing in the name of the Lord, and receiving His Spirit. Now we have washed away, not the substance of our body, nor the image of our [primary] formation, but the former vain conversation [or, behavior] (sed pristinam vanitatis conversationem). In these members, therefore, in which we were going to destruction by working the works of corruption, in these very members are we made alive by working the works of the Spirit (in iisdem ipsis vivificamur, operantes ea quae sunt spiritus). (Iren. Against Heresies 5.11.2)

How, then, did the idea develop that says the water of baptism saves a person from eternal damnation, not merely from a sinful lifestyle? While the earliest church used the metaphors of regeneration and illumination to refer to the practical change of lifestyle, later Christians began to interpret these metaphorical terms more literally and metaphysically, resulting in the notion that the water itself supernaturally mediated saving (life-giving) grace to the recipient. From that point on until the Reformation, the idea that water baptism was a gracious means of salvation rather than a gracious means of initial sanctification became common. However, it seems most proper to regard baptism as intended to be the first means of sanctifying grace, the moment when a new believer commits to live the Christian life by God’s grace, to walk in newness of life.

To sum up: besides confession of faith in the triune God and personal association with Christ’s death and resurrection, baptism is an act of repentance from a life of sin and a pledge to live a sanctified life. Yes, those who understand baptism as a confession of faith in Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as well as a profession of trust in person and work of Christ have genuinely waded in the refreshing waters of this sacred rite like lambs lapping in a cool stream. However, with a greater understanding of its mysteries, those who have repented from sin and pledged a life of holiness through water baptism will find themselves going deeper than the little lambs, entering a sacred river where the elephant floats at large.

(NOTE: This series is continued in Part 3 of 3: “Dealing with the Elephants”)

Embracing the Elephant—Toward a Fuller Doctrine and Practice of Water Baptism (Part 1 of 3)

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blindmenandelephantIt was six men of Indostan // To learning much inclined, // Who went to see the Elephant // (Though all of them were blind), // That each by observation, // Might satisfy his mind.

In this nineteenth century poem, “The Blind Men and the Elephant,” John Godfrey Saxe recasts an ancient Hindu tale of six blind men who approach an elephant for the first time. The first man examines the elephant’s side and concludes that an elephant is much like a wall. After handling the tusk, a second blind man decides the elephant resembles a sharp spear. The third man imagines an elephant as a snake after feeling the beast’s writhing trunk. The fourth man explores one of the legs of the elephant and pictures a tree. Fiddling with the huge animal’s floppy ear, the fifth man deduces that the elephant is like a fan waving in the air. Finally, the sixth blind man grabs the tail and concludes that the elephant resembles a short rope. Saxe then ends his humorous but profound poem this way:

And so these men of Indostan // Disputed loud and long, // Each in his own opinion // Exceeding stiff and strong, // Though each was partly in the right, // And all were in the wrong!

When it comes to the church’s doctrine and practice of baptism, we encounter a very similar situation as the fictional blind men of Indostan. Whereas both the New Testament and the early church present a multi-faceted doctrine of baptism, various traditions since that time have reduced baptism to one or maybe two of its aspects. Some reduce the purpose of baptism to a public confession of faith in the Triune God (Matt. 28:19). Others may emphasize the individual’s personal association with the saving death and resurrection of Christ pictured in baptism (Rom. 6:3–4). Another group might point to baptism as an act of repentance, by which a convert turns from a life of sin (Eph. 2:1–10; Col. 2:11–14). A fourth contingent might emphasize the public commitment, pledge, or oath a believer makes at baptism to live according to the new life of faith by the power of the Spirit (1 Pet. 3:21). A fifth party may point to baptism as the rite of initiation into the new covenant community, by which believers officially become members of the church (1 Cor. 12:13; Gal. 3:27). Finally, some traditions focus on baptism as the church’s official extension of community “forgiveness” based on their repentance from sin (Acts 2:38; 26:18). To each of these emphases we can legitimately respond, “Yes, baptism is that, but it’s not only that.” Like the blind men of Indostan, “each was partly in the right, and all were in the wrong.”

It’s my contention that most every tradition of baptism has reduced the doctrine and practice of the sacred rite to one or two things when baptism was really intended to be and accomplish many things all at once. Each teacher or tradition has focused variously on the elephant’s tail, ear, side, leg, trunk, or tusk . . . sometimes even pitting one true and legitimate aspect of Christian baptism against another. In this essay I will begin to explore six facets of the doctrine and practice of baptism as reflected in the New Testament and read in light of the early church’s actual beliefs and practices. Through this study I hope to describe the rite in its fullness, suggesting how we might better embrace all of its facets rather than only one or two of them. The six facets of Christian baptism I will explore, starting with the first two in part one of this essay, are the following:

  1. Baptism as public confession of the Trinitarian Faith (Matt. 28:19)
  2. Baptism as personal association with Christ’s death and resurrection (Rom. 6:3–4)
  3. Baptism as repentance from a life of sin (Acts 22:16; 1 Cor. 6:11)
  4. Baptism as a pledge to live a sanctified life (1 Pet. 3:21)
  5. Baptism as a rite of initiation into the covenant community (1 Cor. 12:13; Gal. 3:27)
  6. Baptism as a mark of official community forgiveness (Acts 26:18)

1. Baptism as Public Confession of the Trinitarian Faith (Matt. 28:19)

Jesus Christ commanded that believers be baptized “in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (Matt. 28:19). This Trinitarian baptismal rite became standard in the church from day one. In Antioch between 50 and 70, baptism “in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” was clearly prescribed (Didache 7.1), and as we know, Antioch itself became a major hub for Gentile missions. Around A.D. 150, Justin Martyr, describing the church’s general practice of baptism as he knew it, said that “as many as are persuaded and believe that the things we teach and say are true” are then baptized “in the name of God the Father and Master of all, and of our Savior, Jesus Christ, and of the Holy Spirit” (Justin, 1 Apology 61).

Today many traditions treat this triune baptism as a mere formula recited while immersing, pouring, or sprinkling the baptized adult or child. They simply say words such as “I baptize you in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit” while applying the water. However, in the descriptions of baptism available to us in the writings of the early church, there is little evidence that Jesus’s command to baptize in the name of the triune God was ever treated as a mere formula. Rather, the evidence suggests that triune baptism actually implied a threefold confession of faith in response to three distinct questions followed by three distinct “immersions” or “pourings.”

The exact language seems to have varied from church to church, but the basic outline remained the same. The one baptizing would say something like, “Do you believe in God the Father and Master of all, who made all things?” The one being baptized would respond, “I believe.” The first immersion (or, in some cases, pouring) followed. Then the baptizer would inquire concerning the second article of the Christian faith: “Do you believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, God made flesh, who was born of a virgin, crucified for your sins, rose again from the dead, and ascended to heaven, whence He will come again to judge the living and dead?” The baptized would respond, “I do,” followed by the second washing. Finally, the baptizer asked something like, “Do you believe in the Holy Spirit, who through the prophets foretold the things about Christ and gives new life?” The respondent would reply, “I do.” The third and final immersion was administered.

The fact is that the “Father, Son, and Holy Spirit” language was not a formula to be recited but a summary of the faith to be confessed. This helps explain why sometimes in the New Testament the baptism is simply referred to as “in the name of Jesus” (Acts 2:38; 8:16; 10:48). It’s not that there were two competing forms of baptism going around in the first century: those baptizing in the name of Jesus only and those baptizing in the name of the Triune God. Rather, the exact wording of the confession of faith varied from person to person and from place to place, but the content was always the same: 1) the God and Father who made all things 2) sent His Son to die for sin, rise again, and ascend to heaven until His return, in order to 3) send the same Holy Spirit who had inspired the Scriptures to indwell the church until the second coming.

Therefore, when Jesus instructed His disciples to baptize “in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” the implication was that converts were to be instructed concerning basic Christian Trinitarian doctrine—the persons of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and their work in creation, revelation, redemption, and consummation. Confession of faith at baptism, therefore, confirmed the believer’s understanding of and belief in the triune faith. Clearly, this meant that some kind of pre-baptismal instruction was necessary so that when the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit were mentioned, the baptismal candidate didn’t just stand dumbfounded in the water, wondering what the baptizer was talking about.

True, the farther away from the Jewish synagogue the gospel reached, the more doctrinal instruction would be necessary prior to baptism. Jews and God-fearing Gentiles who already knew the Old Testament well would have been quite clear on their doctrine of God the Father, maker of heaven and earth. They would have known something of the Holy Spirit who had empowered the prophets of old and predicted the coming of the Messiah. In fact, they would have been anticipating the advent of that promised Savior and King. All they lacked was the understanding that Jesus of Nazareth was that Savior, King, and Son of God . . . that He was to die to pay for sin and rise again from the dead . . . and that He was to have two comings rather than one. In short, for Jews and God-fearing Gentiles, who already believed in the Old Testament faith, it wasn’t necessary to provide instruction for the entire biblical creation and redemption narrative . . . just the pieces that were incomplete prior to the advent of the Messiah. However, as the gospel penetrated the un-trained pagan Gentiles, more instruction would have been necessary regarding the Christian story as opposed to their non-Christian worldviews and myths. In fact, when Paul preached to the Gentiles in Athens, he began with the doctrine of God as Creator and Father of all (Acts 17:22–31).

We aren’t sure just how much instruction was given concerning the nature and works of the Triune God prior to baptism. It probably depended on where the unbelievers started out in their knowledge and belief in the one true God. For some it may have been a matter of a few simple assertions to connect the dots. For others it may have involved intense instruction, answering questions and dealing with objections. But whatever pre-baptismal doctrinal instruction occurred, we can be sure that when the new believer entered the water and responded to the questions, “Do you believe in God the Father . . . ? Do you believe in God the Son . . . ? Do you believe in God the Holy Spirit . . . ?” it wasn’t the first time they heard of the Father, Son, and Spirit.

In sum, one New Testament and early church facet of baptism is confession of faith in the triune God (Matt. 28:19). A full-bodied doctrine and practice of baptism must include more than this. But it shouldn’t include less.

2. Baptism as Personal Association with Christ’s Death and Resurrection (Rom. 6:3–4)

In its earliest attested form, the person receiving baptism would be fully immersed in the water (Mark 1:10; Acts 8:38–39). This is, in fact, the basic meaning of the Greek term baptizo, “to immerse.” This full immersion pictured the believer’s association with the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ. Romans 6:3–4 draws this analogy succinctly: “Or do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus have been baptized into His death? Therefore we have been buried with Him through baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.” Similarly, in Colossians 2:12 Paul says to the believers, “[You have been] buried with Him in baptism, in which you were also raised up with Him through faith in the working of God, who raised Him from the dead.”

In this second aspect of water baptism, the focus narrows from the entire Trinitarian creation and redemption narrative to the specific picture of the work of redemption through the death and resurrection of Jesus. In this way, baptism becomes itself a wordless confession of faith—our personal association with the death and resurrection of Christ on our behalf. The core events of the gospel itself—Christ’s death for sin and His resurrection from the dead (1 Cor. 15:1–5)—are played out before all.

As each believer individually participates in this act of confession, baptism is at its most personal. Through the act of baptism, a believer confesses his personal faith in the saving gospel. The young Christian confesses that Christ’s death paid for her sins and that His resurrection promises her own future resurrection from the dead. One cannot imagine a more personal, humiliating, tangible, and meaningful act as an outward sign of one’s inward convictions. One may certainly say “I do” to the question, “Do you believe that Jesus died for your sins and rose from the dead?” But by actually reenacting these saving works before all, the new believer says, “I believe it, but I also apply it personally to myself once and for all.”

To summarize: besides confession of faith in the triune God, a second aspect of New Testament and early church baptism is personal association with Christ’s death and resurrection (Rom. 6:3–4). Yes, a full-bodied doctrine and practice of baptism must include more than this. But it shouldn’t include less.

(NOTE: This series if continued in Part 2 of 3, “Floating with the Elephant”)

“Use Things the Way They’re Meant to Be Used”: Beyond Regs and Norms

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I’m hardly the model parent. I have no special training or expertise. I have no success stories (my oldest is just 13). And when I’m coping with my three kids’ day-to-day, hit-and-miss behavior, the fruit of the Spirit often gets juiced. However, over the years I’ve crafted a few “standing orders” that have helped maintain some modicum of control in my family. One of these is pretty simple but all-important in the Svigel household: “Use things the way they’re meant to be used.”

When followed, this rule can lessen the likelihood of accidents and injuries. Here’s how it works: Imagine your six-year-old grabs a five gallon bucket, turns it over, and tries to use it as a stepping stool to reach a bicycle helmet hanging in the garage. Suddenly the rule kicks in: use things the way they were meant to be used. Tragedy avoided. Or your ten-year-old can’t find his pocket knife to whittle bark from a branch. Instead, he grabs a pair of scissors, opens it up as wide as it will go, and starts shaving the twig with one blade: use things the way they are meant to be used.

Let me suggest that this rule of thumb can be applied when making ministry decisions, too. In fact, taking into consideration the intended purposes expressed in the Bible adds another dimension to the age-old debate between the “regulative principle” and the “normative principle.”

 

Regulatives vs. Normatives

For a long time Protestants have debated proper worship from two perspectives: those who adhere to the regulative principle (“Regs”) argue that whatever is not expressly commanded in Scripture is to be prohibited in worship and order. Those who hold to the normative principle (“Norms”) argue that whatever is not prohibited by Scripture is permissible in worship and order.

For example, some proponents of the regulative principle reject the use of musical instruments in worship because the New Testament neither prescribes nor mentions their use. On the other hand, followers of the normative principle would use a growing variety of musical instruments for worship because nothing in the New Testament expressly forbids their use. As another example, Regs tend to practice believer’s baptism exclusively, as this is the practice explicitly seen in the New Testament. Norms may practice infant baptism because nothing in the New Testament clearly prohibits it.

Needless to say, many evangelical churches follow a very broad normative principle, feeling the freedom to employ almost anything in their worship and order as long as it doesn’t violate a clear teaching of Scripture. Usually, then, a strong pragmatic principle tends to steer decisions. So, as an extreme example, if the Bible doesn’t clearly forbid driving motorcycles up and down the aisles and around the stage in order to illustrate the power of the Holy Spirit, then a church is free to ride motorcycles throughout the worship center if it will communicate the point in a memorable (read: entertaining) way. Or, to use a less extreme example, because the New Testament doesn’t clearly prohibit the use of artwork in the sanctuary, we are free to use art, images, multi-media presentations, plays, skits, movies, smoke, lightshows, dance, and other artistic expressions to communicate our message in memorable (!) ways.

Now, both the regulative and normative principles address matters that are not explicitly mentioned in Scripture (though they might be reasonably deduced from Scripture). Regs forbid anything not clearly affirmed; Norms allows things not clearly rejected. Yet what about the use of practices explicitly mentioned in Scripture in ways that are neither clearly condoned nor explicitly condemned? That is, the intended uses of some things are clearly articulated in Scripture, leaving us with clear direction on how they are to be employed, things like prayer, worship, leadership, money, Scripture, baptism, and the Lord’s Supper. The question then becomes: if Scripture teaches us clearly that Practice X is to be used for Purpose Y, is it also okay for us to use X for purpose Z? Let me give two examples.

 

Using the Bible the Way It’s Meant to Be Used

Scripture itself clearly sets forth the Bible’s intended uses. Scriptures point us to Jesus Christ (Luke 24:27; John 5:39; Acts 8:35; 18:28; Rom. 1:2; 1 Cor. 15:3–4). It’s to be read publically in church for instruction (1 Tim. 4:13). It also contains the wisdom of God needed to walk in righteousness (Ps. 119:105). In fact, its two main purposes can be summed up by 2 Timothy 3:15–17—“The sacred writings . . . are able to give you the wisdom that leads to salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus. All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness; so that the man of God may be adequate, equipped for every good work.” So really the purpose of Scripture is twofold: 1) to point us to a saving knowledge of the person and work of Jesus Christ (2 Tim. 3:15); and 2) to teach us how to live as children of God (3:16–17). In other words, the explicit purpose of Scripture is to regulate our faith and practice.

But what about other uses of the Bible beyond these two?

Is it right to use the Bible as a guide for dieting—WWJE (What Would Jesus Eat)? Is it okay to also use the Bible as a science textbook? A management manual? A guide for “biblical economics”? A pocketbook for political science? A source of frameable quotes to hang in our bathrooms? Is it right for us to publish special interest study Bibles that focus on only one particular topic in Scripture (whether end times, animals, or apologetics) . . . or to package the presentation for one particular audience (whether moms, dads, leaders, or specific ethnic groups)? If the Bible was meant to point us to Jesus, how badly do we err when we use it to point to other things . . . or to point to us? If the Bible was written to equip believers for every good work, do we err when we use it to justify political opinions, glean dietary advice, or formulate scientific theories?

In short, do we risk doctrinal and practical accident and injury if we deviate from using the Bible the way it’s meant to be used?

 

Using the Lord’s Supper the Way It’s Meant to Be Used

Most evangelical churches know they’re supposed to observe the Lord’s Supper (also called “communion,” “the Lord’s Table,” or “the Eucharist”). And most know that the New Testament spells out clear purposes, confirmed by the early church’s practice. The Lord’s Supper is meant to reflect the “one body” of the gathered church (1 Cor. 10:17; 11:20) rather than a family’s normal meal at home (1 Cor. 11:22, 34). Around the Table, Christ’s disciples gather to dine with the Lord, commemorating His saving death and resurrection and anticipating His personal return (1 Cor. 11:23–26). Practiced properly, this community covenant meal provides spiritual blessing and strengthens faith (1 Cor. 10:16). Both the New Testament and early church confirm that the churches observed the Lord’s Supper every Sunday as part of the weekly gathered worship (Acts 20:7; 1 Cor. 11:18–20; see my essay, “Should We Celebrate the Lord’s Supper Every Sunday in Church?”).

Even though we have a sufficient picture of the intended purpose of the Lord’s Supper, what about other uses of the observance of the meal besides these?

Is it right for us to observe the Lord’s Supper at home in our families? On camping trips with friends? Should it be used as an evangelistic tool, presenting the gospel through the meal and asking unbelievers to partake as their first act of faith? Should its intended weekly observance be suspended in favor of an annual feast? What about partaking of the Lord’s Supper as part of our individual, private prayer time and devotion? Or during an “online” service with whatever elements we have at hand—bread and juice, pizza and Coke . . . donuts and coffee? How far from its intended purpose dare we take the Lord’s Supper before we end up out of bounds? If Communion is intended to be an act of covenant renewal among the gathered church as a commemoration of the suffering and death of Christ during corporate worship, do we err when we observe it in ways not intended by the Lord and practiced by His apostles?

In short, do we risk doctrinal and practical accident and injury if we deviate from using the Lord’s Supper the way it’s meant to be used?

 

Use Things the Way They’re Meant to Be Used

The constant tension and occasional conflict between proponents of the regulative principle and adherents of the normative principle will probably endure until the end of the age. Regs forbid things not clearly affirmed in or reasonably deduced from Scripture. Norms allows things not clearly rejected in Scripture. But in the midst of this legitimate debate, we sometimes fold in things for which the Scriptures are very clear regarding their purpose and function. This raises an important question that neither the Regs nor Norms directly address. If the Bible explicitly tells us the way things are meant to be used, on what basis and by what authority do we use them in ways that were unintended?

Of course, this question, too, deserves a fair-minded debate. What are the limits of liturgical freedom beyond the prescribed functions in the New Testament before we’re guilty of offering strange fire before the Lord (Lev. 10:1)? Are we not, then, better off sticking close to the clearly-articulated purposes and intensions of the Bible rather than cleverly, creatively, and perhaps dangerously and rebelliously making our own uses for them?

Maybe we ought to apply my household rule to better manage the household of faith: use things the way they’re meant to be used. I know in my own family this principle makes sense. It prevents things from being broken. It gets things done more efficiently. And it also keeps people safe. Perhaps some of our churches and believers have suffered unintended damage because we have failed to follow a reasonable rule of thumb: use things the way they’re meant to be used.

Should We Celebrate the Lord’s Supper Every Sunday in Church?

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A monthly, quarterly, or simply “infrequent” observance of the Lord’s Supper (or in some traditions “the Eucharist,” “Communion,” or “the Lord’s Table”) has become generally accepted by many churches. So common is the non-weekly observance that when Bible-believing Christians are confronted with the fact that the earliest churches observed the Lord’s Supper weekly, as instituted by Christ and the apostles, they respond with disbelief, defensiveness, or even resentment. Countless excuses spill from their lips as to why they can’t (or won’t) conform their Sunday worship to the original apostolic model presented in the Bible and clearly seen in the earliest churches founded by the apostles.

Frankly, a lot of confusion, misinformation, bad preaching, and bad teaching have permeated our understanding of the Lord’s Supper. Therefore, it’s necessary to revisit the biblical, historical, and theological facts confirming that a weekly observance of the Lord’s Supper in the context of the local church’s Sunday worship was the original apostolic practice to be observed in all churches since—including yours and mine. I know this essay is long, and at points it can become somewhat technical. But I promise it will be worth your diligence.

 

Coming Together around the Bread and Cup

Let me begin by setting forth the simple establishment of the Communion service ordained by Christ at the completion of the Last Supper. Though the meal preceding its establishment was a typical Passover Seder, the institution of the bread and wine as the body and blood was a radical modification of the Passover tradition. Christ first “gave thanks” for both the cup and the bread (Matt. 26:26–27; Mark 14:22–23; Luke 22:17–19). The Greek verb “to give thanks” is eucharisteo, the noun form of which is eucharistia. This is the term used in the early church for the Communion service of bread and wine—the “thanksgiving” or Eucharistic observance.

Christ also identified the broken bread with his body and the cup of wine with his blood (Matt. 26:26–28). This is clearly a completely new revelation, not an expected part of the Jewish Passover observance. Therefore, Jesus’s words, “Do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:19; 1 Cor. 11:24) refers exclusively to the institution of the bread and wine. In fact, Paul himself narrows the observance to the consecrated bread and wine when he says, “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (1 Cor. 11:26). That is, the proclamation, remembrance, and observance are all focused on the bread and wine, not the entire Passover meal.

Of course, neither Jesus nor Paul clearly said anything at this point about the frequency of the observance of the Communion service. Paul used the ambiguous term, “as often as” (1 Cor. 11:25–26). However, this term does not mean “do it whenever you want.” Clearly the Corinthian church already had a set pattern of observing the Lord’s Supper. Paul was therefore building upon that understanding of the frequency of the observance while reminding them that as frequently as they observe Communion, they are proclaiming the Lord’s death. The emphasis was on remembering the purpose of the observance every time they participate in it, not on observing the Lord’s Supper whenever they felt like it.

So, is there a way for us to determine what the apostles actually established as the normative practice of the Lord’s Supper?

In 1 Corinthians 11, Paul points out that when the Christians in Corinth “come together,” problems arise (11:17). Paul uses the term “come together,” sunerchomai, in this passage as a term for the official assembling of the local church in Corinth. In verse 18 he says, “When you come together as a church, I hear that there are divisions among you.” Also, 1 Cor. 14:26 uses the same term for the official gathered meeting of the church. This confirms that Paul had in mind the weekly gathering of the community to observe the practices he had established during his eighteen-month period of teaching the new Christians several years earlier. Though they had maintained the weekly practice of gathering together as a church, the meeting had become fraught with problems.

When did this gathering together of the church occur? Well, 1 Corinthians 16:1 says, “On the first day of every week, each of you is to put something aside and store it up.” The idea is that each believer is to contribute something of his or her wealth to a community pot that would later be collected when Paul arrived. The “first day of every week” is, of course, Sunday. The book of Acts also notes that the church of Troas gathered “on the first day of the week . . . to break bread” (Act 20:7). In fact, Paul stayed a full seven days in Troas after his arrival there in order to remain with the disciples during that Sunday. No other day would do.

In any case, the weekly gathering, having been firmly fixed in Judaism as Saturday, naturally continued in the early church, but with an important change. The earliest Christians commemorated the resurrection of Jesus, which occurred on “the first day,” Sunday (Matt 28:1; Mark 16:2; Luke 24:1; John 20:1). That this was the pattern established by the apostles themselves when they planted their churches is confirmed in the first century historical document from the church in Antioch, which instructs new churches, “Every Lord’s day, gather yourselves together, and break bread, and give thanksgiving after having confessed your transgressions” (Didache 14.1). So early is the Didache (dated by modern Didache scholars now between A.D. 50 and 70) that it gives us a window into the actual practice of the churches established by the apostles themselves. It’s not surprising that we find Ignatius of Antioch some years later faithfully carrying out the instructions of the apostles. He notes that those who have come to Christ from Judaism are “no longer observing the Sabbath, but living in the observance of the Lord’s day, on which also our life has sprung up again by Him and by His death” (Ignatius, Magnesians 9.1).

Therefore we see that our reading of the New Testament documents concerning Sunday worship (the Lord’s day, on which He was raised from the dead, not Saturday), is confirmed by the historical documents that relay the actual practices of the early church. (For more information on Sunday as the original day of Christian worship, see my essay, “Putting the Sabbath to Rest.”)

What were the churches expected to do when they “came together” (sunerchomai) each Sunday? Returning to 1 Corinthians, we see that in conjunction with the “coming together,” they were to celebrate the unity of the body by observing “the Lord’s supper” (1 Cor. 11:17–20)—a mark of unity at which they were utterly failing (11:21). That this “Lord’s supper” was not a fellowship meal is confirmed by the fact that Paul explicitly instructs those with means to “eat at home” (11:34; cf. 11:22). Rather, the “Lord’s supper” observed in the weekly coming together was that observance instituted by Christ “on the night when he was betrayed” (11:23).

 

Was the Lord’s Supper Just a Passover Meal?

Though some have closely tied the institution of the Lord’s Supper to the annual Jewish Passover meal, such a perspective fails to hold up to biblical, theological, and historical scrutiny. Already in 1 Corinthians Paul makes a point that “after supper” Jesus took the cup (1 Cor. 11:25). The Passover supper itself was over. What Jesus instituted came afterwards, was detached from the traditional Passover meal, and involved words and actions that were not part of any traditional Passover Seder. Renowned early church scholar, Everett Fergusson, writes of the account of the institution of the Lord’s Supper in the Gospels: “Mark and Matthew make nothing of the meal setting, except to mention it as the occasion when Jesus gave a special meaning to the bread and the cup. They focus attention on what was important for the continuing practice of the church” (“Lord’s Supper and Love Feast,” Christian Studies 21 [2005–2006]: 28).

Theologically, Christ uses the bread and the cup to point us to the New Covenant. In stark contrast, the Passover meal was an annual hallmark of the Old Covenant. In fact, in the key New Covenant passage in Jeremiah 31, the prophet proclaimed, “Behold, the days are coming, declares the LORD, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah, not like the covenant that I made with their fathers on the day when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt” (Jer. 31:31–32 ESV). The mark of remembering the institution of the Old Covenant (redemption from Egypt) was the annual Passover celebration. The mark of remembering the institution of the New Covenant (redemption in Christ’s blood) is the weekly Lord’s Supper, remembering Christ’s incarnation, death, and resurrection each week as a reflection that Christ has not yet returned (1 Cor. 11:26).

Thus, the difference between Passover and the Lord’s Supper is as different as the Old Covenant and the New Covenant, as different as circumcision and baptism. This is why Paul put the Old Covenant Jewish observances in proper perspective in Colossians 2:16–17—“Therefore let no one pass judgment on you in questions of food and drink, or with regard to a festival or a new moon or a Sabbath. These are a shadow of the things to come, but the substance belongs to Christ” (ESV). These shadows of things to come (including the Passover, cf. 1 Cor. 5:7) must never be confused with the realities of Christ’s person and work—remembered through the weekly celebration of the bread and cup.

 

Was the Lord’s Supper the “Love Feast”?

The “love feast” is mentioned only once in the New Testament (Jude 1:12), paralleled in 2 Peter 2:13 with reference to a “feast.” Too often the “love feast” has been understood by modern readers as a “fellowship meal,” like a church potluck, Sunday school picnic, or some other time of “food, folks, and fun.” But the “love feast” held by many in the early church was actually a “charity meal” primarily for the purpose of providing sustenance for the needy members of the congregation—widows, orphans, and the poor. Its inspiration did not come from the Last Supper, but perhaps from the Lord’s miraculous feeding of the hungry in Matt. 14:19 and the early church’s practice of providing for the needy through the voluntary benevolence of the rich (Acts 4:34–35). In some places the love feast was supplemented with or supplanted by a monetary or food offering intended to provide for the poor and needy. On the other hand, the Lord’s Supper was an observance distinct from the love feast. In the Lord’s Supper, bread and wine were ceremonially consumed as a memorial confession of Christ’s person and work, a medium of spiritual fellowship with Christ himself, and a means of covenant renewal among the local church community.

Everett Fergusson writes, “The Lord’s supper and the love feast were two distinct activities—the one a remembrance and proclamation of the death and resurrection of Jesus and the other an act of benevolence and fellowship. It took some time before a distinct and fixed terminology prevailed, even as some time passed before the functions were separated in time, but the activities themselves had discreet meanings from the beginning” (Fergusson, “Lord’s Supper and Love Feast,” 35). Similarly, Marcel Metzger, an expert on the history of Christian worship, writes concerning the charity meals, “The community meals were at once a realization and an expression of charity and mutual support, another aspect of communion in one single body. In times of want and famine . . . the demands of mutual help led in all likelihood to the organization of daily meals for the benefit of the needy” (Marcel Metzger, History of the Liturgy: Three Major Stages, trans. Madeleine M. Beaumont [Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1997], 21–22).

Simply put, the “love feast” is not the same as the Lord’s Supper. Neither is the love feast simply a fellowship meal, like our modern potlucks, or any meal we have with other believers. Rather, when we read the Bible in its historical-theological context, it becomes clear that the “charity meal” was often observed in conjunction with the gathered community as a way for the well-off to provide for the needy. Thus, the modern equivalent of the “charity meal” in our churches is not the Lord’s Supper, a potluck, or a church-wide picnic, but a benevolence offering for the poor.

 

Was the Lord’s Supper Any “Breaking of Bread” with Believers?

Some time ago a young man contacted me with concerns over his church’s apparent teaching and practice of the Lord’s Supper. He reported that the pastor of the church taught that the biblical Lord’s Supper was never intended to hold a special place in church worship. Rather, the Lord’s Supper, he said, was any meal that believers enjoy together. In fact, that pastor boldly asserted that the traditional in-church observance of the Lord’s Supper was a “bastardization” of its original intent (these are his words, not mine!). And he added that he partook of the Lord’s Supper three times a day—whenever he “broke bread” with fellow believers at breakfast, lunch, or dinner!

Sadly, this confusion occurs far too frequently among careless Bible-readers who fail to read the Scriptures in their literary and historical context. The idiom “to break bread” is already used in the Old Testament. In Isaiah 58:7 and Jeremiah 16:7 the authors use the Hebrew word parash, “to divide,” in the sense of “sharing” food with the needy and the mourning. The Septuagint (the pre-Christian Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures) renders the idiom in Jeremiah 16:7 as “break bread.” By the New Testament, the practice of “breaking bread” in conjunction with a blessing at the beginning of a meal was customary in Judaism, often in the context of “dividing” one’s supply of food with others (Matt. 14:19; 15:36). Thus, when Jesus instituted Communion after the Last Supper, we are told that he “took bread, and after blessing it broke it.”

Everett Fergusson clarifies: “The phrase, ‘break bread,’ referring to a general custom, could refer to beginning a meal or to the specific remembrance of the death of Jesus. The context must decide which is meant in each case” (Fergusson, “Lord’s Supper and Love Feast,” 30). Many careless readers of Scripture (some who should know better!) have read the term “to break bread” as if a) it always means the Lord’s Supper, or b) it always means any meal with others, or c) it has both meanings, so it is a meal with others, which is the Lord’s Supper. This latter error—of which the pastor mentioned earlier was guilty—is akin to the exegetical fallacy D. A. Carson calls “Unwarranted adoption of an expanded semantic field” (Exegetical Fallacies, 2d ed. [Grand Rapids: Baker, 1996], 60–61).

The context of each passage must determine the kind of “breaking bread” involved. When Paul was on his way to Rome by ship and he broke bread with others on the vessel (Acts 27:35–36), this was a normal meal; it does not indicate that Paul shared the church’s Lord’s Supper with unbelievers as part of his evangelism! Earlier, in Acts 20, it appears we have both uses of “to break bread”—first as a reference to the Communion meal (Acts 20:7), then later as a common meal (20:11). So, when we see that believers “broke bread” with each other, we cannot automatically assume that the text necessarily means the church’s observance of the Lord’s Supper, Communion, or Eucharist—observed in the context of Sunday worship. Rather, it may be: a) any normal daily meal (Luke 24:30—like our breakfast, lunch, or dinner); b) a joyous fellowship or community meal with believers (Acts 2:47—like our potlucks or banquets); c) a charity meal for the benefit of the poor (Matt. 14:19—like our soup kitchens or charitable food banks); or d) the memorial bread and wine of the Lord’s Supper observed in church (1 Cor. 10:16—the same as our Communion).

The Lord’s Supper, one form of “breaking bread” with believers, was always meant to be an observance in the context of the worshiping church during their Sunday morning gathering (Acts 20:7). By confusing the various distinct uses of the phrase, “to break bread,” with its special use for the Lord’s Supper, some pastors and teachers have misinterpreted the observance of the Lord’s Supper as any every-day meal or as a special potluck meal. This has led some churches to eject the Lord’s Supper from their Sunday morning service altogether, reduce its frequency to special (i.e., “rare”) occasions, or to even offer it to unbelievers. Such practices don’t stand up to honest and informed biblical, theological, and historical scrutiny.

 

Weekly Observance in the Context of the Gathered Church

When we read the Bible in the historical context of the actual beliefs and practices of the earliest Christians, the conclusion is indisputable. All the churches throughout the world, in response to the institution of Christ and the authoritative instructions from His apostles, observed the bread and cup as the body and blood of Christ weekly as part of the Sunday morning worship when the church came together (1 Cor. 11:17–20). Do modern churches, therefore, have the right to alter this identifiable apostolic practice, taught in Scripture, observed in the earliest churches, and maintained for centuries as an immovable part of authentic weekly Sunday worship?

The apostle Paul instructed the Thessalonians to “stand firm and hold to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by our spoken word or by our letter” (2 Thess. 2:15). Paul expected the Corinthian Christians to “maintain the traditions even as I delivered them to you” (1 Cor. 11:2). Indeed, the teachings of the apostles are “the foundation” of the church, to which all later developments are to conform (1 Cor. 3:10). And we are to avoid and correct the errors of “human tradition” that inevitably creep into the church’s beliefs and practices (Col. 2:8). Judge, therefore, for yourself whether any teacher, preacher, pastor, or theologian has the authority to change the weekly Lord’s Supper observed in the context of the local gathered community. To do so seems to me to deviate from the clearly discernible tradition which Paul “received from the Lord” and “delivered” to the Corinthians—as well as all the churches he planted and in which he labored. This practice is not a mere worn-out tradition of men, but a hand-delivered practice from Christ and His apostles.

Not only did the ancient church take the apostles’ tradition regarding the Lord’s Supper seriously, but Protestant teachers also knew this to be the original teaching of the early church, too. The great reformer, John Calvin, wrote, “We ought always to provide that no meeting of the Church is held without the word, prayer, the dispensation of the Supper, and alms. We may gather from Paul that this was the order observed by the Corinthians, and it is certain that this was the practice many ages after” (Institutes of the Christian Religion, 4.17.44). The Roman Catholic Church had deteriorated in their practices to a point in which only priests partook of the Sacrament of the Mass daily, giving only the bread to their parishioners and that often only once a year! But by studying the Bible and the early church, the reformers knew this infrequent observance had no resemblance to authentic Christian worship. Instead, the weekly Sunday observance of the Lord’s Supper was intended to be a distinguishing mark of a biblically and historically faithful Protestant congregation.

Fergusson provides a balanced perspective with regard to proper observance of the Lord’s Supper as established by Christ and handed down by the apostles: “The association of the Lord’s supper with the Lord’s day and the association of the day of the resurrection with the day of meeting should not be weakened or broken by another practice. Nor should the significance of the Lord’s supper as a memorial of the death and resurrection of Jesus made by the gathered community of disciples be turned to other purposes. To make the Lord’s supper a sacrament that brings a blessing just by doing it [as in Roman Catholicism] says too much about the Lord’s supper. To treat it as a general religious act of personal piety so that it can be taken on other occasions than the assembly of the church [as in many evangelical churches] says too little about the Lord’s supper” (Fergusson, “Lord’s Supper and Love Feast,” 38).

How tragic that so many evangelical churches have drifted in their worship so far from the Bible, the practices of the earliest churches, and the ideals of the reformation!

 

Now for the “Yeah, Buts”

When confronted with the biblical, historical, and theological facts, Bible-believing Christians ought to amend their ways. They should conform their attitudes and actions to the commands of Christ, the mandates of the apostles, and the universal observances of the ancient churches. However, far too many evangelical pastors and teachers respond to these facts with all sorts of excuses for continuing to deviate from the apostolic practice. Over the years, I’ve heard them all. I present seven of the most common excuses, with my own brief responses in italics.

1) “If we observe the Lord’s Supper every week, it will become routine and mundane; a less frequent observance makes it more special.” Response: Then apply this same logic to the sermon, the collection, prayers, or singing. Would a monthly sermon make the message more meaningful? Would a quarterly praise and worship time make the songs more memorable? Would a monthly offering make every penny received that much more precious? On the positive side, I have heard countless testimonies from churches who have opted to obediently observe the Lord’s Supper weekly, saying they would never go back to a monthly or quarterly observance after experiencing the blessings of the weekly table.

2. “If we observe the Lord’s Supper every week, the worship service will be too long!” Response: So maybe you should shorten or cut out some of the activities you do during the worship service that aren’t actually apostolic. Or try re-appropriating time to better balance the elements of worship to include everything the apostles mandated. Most of our typical worship services can be divided at 50% preaching, 30% singing, and maybe 20% for everything else: prayer, offering, announcements, etc. Does this proportion reflect the Bible’s own emphases? Since the facts point to a weekly observance of the Lord’s Supper as an essential element of worship, shouldn’t we find a way to give it the space it deserves? Many other churches are able to do this. Why can’t yours?   

3. “Observing the Lord’s Supper every week looks too Catholic!” Response: The question shouldn’t be “How can I best avoid things that look Catholic?” but “How can we best conform to the things Christ and the apostles established?” It should be noted that Protestant reformers themselves—because of the compelling evidence of Scripture and early church practice—favored a weekly observance of the Lord’s Supper, not because it was Catholic, but because it was Christian. As pointed out above, in the medieval Roman Catholic Church, most people observed the Lord’s Supper rarely (usually only once a year!)  

4. “We can reflect on the person and work of Christ in other ways that are more culturally relevant than the Lord’s Supper.” Response: By what authority do you disobey Christ’s command? By what new revelation do you challenge the authority of the apostles? By what divine wisdom or insight do you place the Lord’s Supper in the category of “optional” observances? Jesus, through the apostles, established the Lord’s Supper as a unique practice that does more than just provide a means of reflecting on Christ. A close reading of 1 Corinthians 10–11 shows that with the observance comes spiritual blessing, a mark of unity in the body, fellowship with Jesus Christ through the Holy Spirit, and an act of covenant renewal before God and fellow believers. Also, the many evangelical churches that have restored a weekly observance of the Lord’s Supper to their worship have testified to its “relevance” as a weekly confession of faith that involves all five senses in a way that no other act of worship can. 

5. “Our church has done it quarterly (or monthly) for as long as I can remember. They won’t accept a weekly observance.” Response: Any church can be re-educated and shown the error of its ways. It may take time, study, skill, patience, and perseverance, but it has happened all around the nation. Numerous independent Bible churches, traditional Baptist churches, and other evangelical congregations that had long abandoned weekly observance have recently re-established this ancient practice and wouldn’t consider going back. No generation is immune from doctrinal and practical deterioration. Every church must frequently reevaluate and realign its beliefs and practices to the apostolic standard. A long history of disobedience is no excuse for a future of disobedience.

6. “My pastor [or professor] says you’re wrong. A weekly observance of the Lord’s Supper in the local church worship is not really what the Bible teaches.” Response: I’m sorry to say that your pastor [or professor] is simply reading the Bible outside of its actual historical context. I’m not alone in this. I personally know of no bona fide expert in the history of early Christian worship who would argue against my conclusions. (Oh, but I’m sure there’s one out there, somewhere!) I only know of ill-informed pastors or scholars who are non-experts in this field who argue that the original apostolic church didn’t observe the Lord’s Supper weekly. You see, we can actually look at the earliest churches that were established by the apostles and see that they clearly practiced the Lord’s Supper each Sunday in the gathered community. This isn’t a guessing game. It’s not a matter of some reading the Bible this way, others reading it that way. Being aware of the actual historical context, we will be equipped to read the New Testament descriptions and prescriptions in a clearer light. Sorry to say it, but your pastor or professor is reading into the New Testament what he or she wants to see in light of his or her modern church practices, personal preferences, or professional pride. They are not letting the Bible say what it said in its original first century context.

7. “Our church is too big to celebrate the Lord’s Supper each Sunday during the worship service. It’s a logistical nightmare!” Response: Somehow giant churches still manage to collect money every Sunday, and I’ve never heard anybody complain that it was a logistical nightmare! But even in churches with thousands in attendance, creative ways can be discovered to observe the Lord’s Supper weekly. Perhaps breaking into smaller groups throughout the facility after the sermon for the Communion component . . . or dismissing those who are not spiritually prepared during a brief intermission for preparation, then observing with those who remain . . . or working out a way to more rapidly distribute the elements to participants. Bottom line: if you value the Lord’s Supper as much as you value the collection of money, you can find a way to accommodate a church of thousands. (Also see my essay on problems with certain church ministry models that are not conducive to a weekly observance of the Lord’s Supper: “7 Church Ministry Models from Ideal to Awful.”)

Beyond the Preference-Driven Church: Revisiting the Marks and Works of the Church, Part 4—ORDINANCES

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So far in this series on the Marks and Works of the church, we explored the first two essential Marks of Orthodoxy and Order. To maintain a balanced Orthodoxy, we must focus on the fundamental doctrines of the Christian faith in our preaching and teaching, which will exclude destructive heresy and allow for diverse views on non-essentials. To uphold a proper biblical church Order, church leaders (pastor-elders and deacons) must lead with wisdom and humility and the congregation must obey and submit to the ordained leadership. But before we move on to the essential Works of a church, we must discuss the third Mark—Ordinances.

A Rare Instance of Radical Advice

Not long ago a young man contacted me with concerns over his church’s apparent teaching and practice of communion. He reported that the pastor of their church taught that the biblical Lord’s Supper was never intended to hold a special place in church worship. Rather, the Lord’s Supper, he said, was any meal that believers enjoyed together. In fact, that Bible Church pastor boldly asserted that the traditional in-church observance of the Lord’s Supper is a “bastardization” of its original intent (these are his words, not mine!). And he added that he partook of the Lord’s Supper three times a day—whenever he broke bread with fellow believers at breakfast, lunch, or dinner!

This radical teaching sounded strange to my friend. And rightly so! All his life he had been taught that the Lord’s Supper was a special, solemn rite of the covenanted church community—an integral and special part of Christian worship. So, unsure of how to handle the situation at his church, he called me for advice. My response to him was simple: confirm that this was really what the pastor taught . . . then leave that “church” and bring as many people with him as he could.

For those of you who know my view on local church commitment, this may sound shocking. I can count on one hand the times in my life I’ve recommended that people actually leave their local churches. (See my essay, “Leaving Church” here.) However, when a church’s leadership intentionally tampers with a foundational Mark of the local church, that organization comes dangerously close to losing its legitimacy as a true biblical church. That “church” may be a teaching ministry, it may be a worship experience, and it may contribute in its own way to the nourishment and growth of believers. But without the essential biblical Marks, that organization is not a living local body of Christ.

Some of you may be scratching your heads, wondering, “What’s the big deal? It’s just the Lord’s Supper. A piece of cracker and a sip of juice—barely a crumb and hardly a swallow!” My response? If you wouldn’t leave your church over a failure to rightly observe the Lord’s Table, you don’t quite understand the essential Mark of Ordinances and the role they play in the sanctification of the church.

My View of the Ordinances

The doctrinal statement of Dallas Theological Seminary, where I teach church history and systematic theology, says this: “We believe that water baptism and the Lord’s Supper are the only sacraments and ordinances of the church and that they are a Scriptural means of testimony for the church in this age. (Matt. 28:19; Luke 22:19-20; Acts 10:47-48; 16:32-33; 18:7-8; 1 Cor. 11:26).” This brief statement on the essential Mark of Ordinances is striking in what it doesn’t say. It favors neither infant nor believer’s baptism and allows for immersion, pouring, or sprinkling. It permits the Lord’s Supper to be observed weekly, monthly, or annually. In short, besides affirming the enduring quality of the sacraments for the church, this statement allows for a number of diverse beliefs and practices regarding baptism and the Lord’s Supper.

But in light of Scripture and the early church, what more can we say about these essential Ordinances of the church?

Yes, Baptism Now Saves You!

It is undisputed that the New Testament closely relates believing, baptism, and salvation (Mark 16:16; Acts 18:8). As such, water baptism is often associated with receiving the Word, repentance, forgiveness, washing away sins, calling on Christ, and receiving the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:37–41; 22:16). Indeed, it vividly pictures a cleansed life freed from the debilitating stain of sin (Romans 6:3–4). However, before we jump to the mistaken conclusion that the rite of water baptism itself saves, forgives, or literally washes away sins, we must note that water baptism and baptism by the Holy Spirit are clearly distinguished (Acts 1:4–5). In fact, in some cases water baptism precedes baptism by the Spirit (Acts 8:14–16). In other cases Spirit baptism—received by simple faith—precedes water baptism (Acts 10:44–48).

How do we reconcile the Bible’s close connection—but clear distinction—between water baptism (the outward sign) and Spirit baptism (the inward reality)? First Peter 3:21 helps. Peter wrote that “baptism now saves you,” immediately clarifying the kind of rite he had in mind—“not a cleansing of dirt from the flesh [the physical act itself] but a pledge to God from a good conscience.” That is, the rite of water baptism is the public pledge or confession that marks a conscience already cleansed by the Holy Spirit (see Hebrews 9:14; 10:22). Thus, the ceremony of baptism must be closely associated with our conversion to Christ by grace through faith alone—but it should never be equated with it. I think the Westminster Confession of Faith presents a good biblical balance with regard to the association (but not equation) of baptism and conversion: “Although it be a great sin to condemn or neglect this ordinance, yet grace and salvation are not so inseparably annexed unto it, as that no person can be regenerated or saved, without it; or, that all that are baptized are undoubtedly regenerated” (28:5).

In short, water baptism was the exclusive response of faith to the preaching of the Gospel. Though baptism is rightly viewed as an outward sign of an inward reality, the early church would not officially recognize inward faith apart from the outward sign. Just as a public wedding initiates a man and woman into the life of marriage, public baptism initiates a believer into the visible community of Christians. As such, biblical baptism must always precede church membership, discipleship, leadership, and observance of the Lord’s Supper. I believe we deviate from the teachings of Scripture and the practice of the early church if we severely divorce saving conversion from the seal of baptism.

Yes, Christ Is Present in the Eucharist!

The ancient term “eucharist”—already used by Christians for the Lord’s Supper in the first century—comes from the Greek word, eucharistia, which simply means “thanksgiving” (see the first century historical document, Didache 9). In the apostolic age, it referred not simply to the broken bread or the poured wine, but to the observance itself—the celebration, the commemoration, the participation as a community. “Eucharist” at the time of the apostles primarily meant the prayer, confession, and fellowship that centered on re-proclaiming Christ’s incarnation, death, and resurrection—the Gospel. It included our response of reflection, repentance, reconciliation, and renewal in light of our mark of baptism and our ongoing fellowship with God and with one another.

But what do we mean by the “presence” of Christ in our observance of the Lord’s Supper? Well, here’s what I don’t mean—I don’t mean Christ has magically merged with the bread and wine. I don’t mean His spirit has left His body and descended from heaven and attached itself with the wafer and the juice. Nor am I particularly fond of all of the ancient and modern attempts at explaining how Christ is present in the Eucharist—transubstantiation, consubstantiation, real spiritual presence, and so forth. In my opinion all of these views miss the profundity of the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper and reduce this Ordinance to a thing.

What I do mean by Christ’s presence in the Eucharist is that in our right observance of the Lord’s Supper He has made good on His promise that “where two or more have gathered together” in His name—that is, according to His will, by His standards, centered on Him—then He is there, in their midst (Matthew 18:20). As we properly partake of the sacred meal He ordained, Christ graces us with His mysterious real presence by means of the Holy Spirit. Simply put, Christ doesn’t simply pass into the morsels; He is truly present at the meal. He’s not simply uniting with the food, but inviting us to fellowship. Furthermore, in a real, physical sense, Christ is present through the gathered Body of Christ, the Church, as it joins together in unity and submission to its Head. This mystical union of Christ with His Church means that where the community is present, so is Christ (see Acts 9:4–5; Rom 12:5; 1 Cor 10:16; 12:12–14; Eph 4:12–13; 5:23).

What, practically, does it mean to you and me that Christ is uniquely present in the proper observance of the Lord’s Supper? Well, think about it this way—when we pray that God will be “with” somebody, we’re actually praying for real, tangible effects, that is, for God to do something. In fact, where God is present, God is active. When we think of Christ’s presence in the observance of the Lord’s Supper, we should worry less about how He is or isn’t lingering in the bread and wine, but what He’s doing in the midst of the people. God has chosen to work through the Lord’s Supper in a way that He works in no other church practice.

One effect of Christ’s active presence is the unity and purity that result from self-examination, proclamation, and participation. In this sense, the Lord’s Supper is a means of sanctification. God has chosen to bring about sanctification of the whole church through the Lord’s Supper in a way that no other individual or corporate discipline can. When we properly observe the Ordinance, we will grow together spiritually as a family of God. However, there’s another side of his promise of participation in the “cup of blessing” (1 Cor 10:16). Failure to partake properly brings judgment in the form of weakness, sickness, and even death (1 Cor 11:29–30)!

Three Needed Responses

First, many independent Bible Church traditions have over-reacted to the Roman Catholic dogma that understands baptism and the eucharist as means of salvation rather than as means God uses in His work of sanctification. As a result, we have spent much of our time emphasizing what baptism and the Lord’s Supper don’t do, all the while neglecting the biblical teaching on what the Ordinances do. It’s time we move on from telling what baptism and the Lord’s Supper aren’t and get back to explaining what they are. We need to return to the biblical centrality of baptism as the ceremony of initiation into the community of faith . . . and the Lord’s Supper as the celebration of continued fellowship. We need to recall the indispensable role these Ordinances play in our spiritual growth as individuals and a church. There’s a reason the early church celebrated the Lord’s Supper weekly: it’s as important to spiritual growth as the apostles’ teaching and prayer (Acts 2:42)!

Second, if you or your children are unbaptized believers, what’s keeping you from taking that initial step of baptism as the public act of initiation and commitment to the Christian community? As you arrange for this act of obedience to Christ, let me urge you to follow the biblical order of the Ordinances, holding off on participation in the Lord’s Supper until you’ve been baptized. This isn’t a light matter. Proper order is a vital part of proper observance. Just as a wedding ceremony frees a man and woman to participate in the intimate act of marriage, baptism publicly confirms a believer’s devotion to Christ, allowing the believer to participate in the intimate fellowship of the Lord’s Supper. From the biblical perspective, participation in the Lord’s Supper without baptism is like shacking up before the wedding!

Finally, if you harbor unresolved conflict with a fellow member of the church or hide unrepentant sin, stop participating in the Lord’s Supper. On the authority of the Bible, if you don’t repent you will become weak, sick, and die. And as long as we as a church continue to practice the Lord’s Supper tolerating unrepentant members, the entire body will continue to suffer as it fails to experience the full blessing that comes from the presence of Christ in the right observance of the Ordinances.