On the reason for tragedy

This (Monday) morning's sermon was on St Luke 13:1-5:

There were present at that season some that told him of the Galilaeans, whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices.And Jesus answering said unto them, Suppose ye that these Galilaeans were sinners above all the Galilaeans, because they suffered such things? I tell you, Nay: but, except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish. Or those eighteen, upon whom the tower in Siloam fell, and slew them, think ye that they were sinners above all men that dwelt in Jerusalem? I tell you, Nay: but, except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.

And the sermon:

Receptionism on the Run, II

Perhaps I ought simply to relent.

Perhaps I should say,

"The authors of the Solid Declaration Article VII 87 went into some detail to point out the abuse of consecrated bread and wine in adoration. I wonder if they would as silent as our theologans (sic) are today toward the practice of left over consecrated wine settled in plastic cups setting (sic) in parish sacristies in garbage bags waiting to go to the dumpster. Does the Synod defend this practice?"

And then perhaps I should answer:

"First, to clarify the point of the Formula of Concord, Article VII, paragraph 87, we do well to include paragraph 86 (and interested readers will benefit from going back farther than than, at least to paragraph 83). The primary point is that consecrated elements are not to be separated or diverted from the rest of the 'usus' or 'actio' that includes 'distribution and reception or oral eating' that Christ commanded when instituting the sacrament.

"The so-called 'nihil' rule or principle is being presented, namely, that no action or emphasis (nihil= "nothing") that is beyond the sacramental practice (consecration, distribution, reception) is to be regarded as part of the sacrament.

"'Left-over consecrated wine' that remains in used vessels and to be discarded is thus wine that is beyond the sacramental practice. It is not going to be received or orally drunk by the communicant. It no longer has the nature of the sacrament and is comparable to elements that were being misused by the medieval Catholic Church as stated in paragraph 87. (We do note an important difference, of course: having left-over elements is not a sinful departure from Christ's institution, but simply an inevitable outcome of valid sacramental practice). We really do not know how much bread and wine were left over in the Upper Room when Christ instituted the Lord's Supper, nor do we know how it was disposed of. Scripture is silent on this. It is beyond the sacramental focus.

"So, to put it plainly, the left-over wine is considered and treated differently than during the sacramental practice because we are now beyond the sacramental practice. It would be unnecessary speculation to say much more about the nature or qualities of such left-overs. Our theologians . . . do not normally say much about the disposal of left-overs (sometimes called the reliqua or reliquae) for that reason."

Would that be acceptable? Examine the quotation, which comes from our friends at the Wisconsin Synod, and you might be able to see some rather glaring deficiencies for yourself. For starters, take note of how the Confessions seem to have become a norma normans here.

In other words, to return to the original notion: No. Perhaps not. I still see no reason to relent on the question.

On the leaven of Pharisees

This (Saturday) morning's Gospel, from St. Luke 12, wherein Jesus warns his disciples of the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy:

On Jesus' Condemnation of the Pharisees and Lawyers

This (Friday) morning's sermon, from St. Luke 11: Woe unto you Pharisees, etc.:

Two sermons: on self-exaltation and on repentance at the sign of Jonah

Last night's (Wednesday) midweek mass had as its Gospel the dissension among the disciples in Luke 22, which of them was greatest, and Jesus' consequent rebuke. This morning's (Thursday) mass had St Luke 11, Jesus' warning regarding the sign of Jonah. Both follow here:

A friend needing three loaves

This is one of my favorite Gospels, from St. Luke 11. It comes immediately after the Our Father, and is, I believe, a parable about the Our Father and its function in the canon of the Mass. The three loaves, the friend of the friend, the midnight hour, the children in bed, the door closed are all details not to be missed. Preached this (Wednesday) morning at St. Paul's:

Receptionism on the Run

Who says this conversation has come to an end? My own involvement in the discussion is sometimes limited, but it seems to me that in the course of its ebb and flow, it has been developing right along. The number of comments now exceeds 200. I've been posting some audio files of sermons meanwhile, but that ought not discourage the continuation of this important topic.

Now, as Venkman has astutely pointed out, we have begun to surround and hem in the error of receptionism, which, I hasten to remind you, happens to have been a major impetus behind the building of a tabernacle here.

I have long suspected that there are many whose reason for consuming everything is so they would not have to face their own refusal to believe that the simple words of Jesus abide forever. They may not have monstrances, but they do seem to have hours of adoration, not of the Sacrament, but of Melanchthon and his eucharistic errors (q. v.).

Evidently they have deleted from Galatians St. Paul's warning, "though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed." Either that, or they believe the Book of Concord carries more weight than the apostles and angels. Don't get me wrong, I don't think the BoC is guilty of the Melancththonian error, but they do, though they call it a truth. But if I did interpret the BoC as they do, I would sooner reject it than the words of Christ.

Verbum Dei manet in aeternam.

Satan Falls from Heaven

Sermon from this morning's (Tuesday) mass, on St. Luke 10, the sending of the seventy who returned with joy, and Jesus said, "I beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven . . .":

The Disciples Want to Call Down Fire from Heaven

This morning's (Monday) mass had as its appointed Gospel the reading from St. Luke 9 in which Jesus tells his disciples not to forbid a man for casting out demons in his name ("He who is not against us is for us") and rebukes them for wanting to condemn the Samaritans who did not receive him ("because his face was set to go to Jerusalem").

I forgot to turn on the PA system today, so no recording. Oops.

The sermon, briefly, explained that neither the man who was independently casting out demons nor the Samaritans had it right. The independent exorcist was wrong, even as those who were not Levites who attempted to offer sacrifices were wrong, and the Samaritans were wrong for rejecting Jesus.

But the disciples misunderstood him because they had yet to grasp the truth that his coming was divided in two, which no one expected. Divided in two: once in mercy, and the second time in judgment.

And this fact is wonderful, for had he not divided his coming in two, no one could be saved. Not only the independent exorcist and the Samaritans, but we ourselves are beneficiaries of the lovingkindness of Jesus in coming first in mercy. And so merciful is he that he absorbs the divine wrath of which the Scriptures so frequently speak, and of which the disciples were so acutely aware. He absorbs it, and the very means by which he absorbed it, his crucified body and the blood he shed, are given to you here from the altar, against the day of judgment which is to come.

Invocabit, Lent I (Jesus in the Wilderness)

Sermon at St. Paul's this (Sunday) morning, with Gospel reading spliced in before it:

On being ashamed of Jesus

Sermon for Sat. after Ash Wednesday, on St. Luke 9:

On Kissing Jesus' Feet

The weeping woman of St. Luke 7: the sermon for mass on the Thursday after Ash Wednesday.

On Repentance, II

The second of two Ash Wednesday sermons at St. Paul's.

On Repentance

The first of two Ash Wednesday sermons at St. Paul's.

The Father of Receptionism

The comments are now at 205 in the continued discussion, all of which can be accessed under the label "reservation of the elements."

It is undeniable that receptionism was afoot in Lutheran circles from the start. Not only is it possible that Andrae had receptionist leanings, and that the tension between those leanings and Chemintz' aversion to them is reflected in the Formula of Concord itself; it is clear that the tension existed a generation earlier, between Melanchthon and Luther. Jurgen Diestelmann has recently provided some compelling data on that tension, though his work is only available in German.

But even without that data, Luther scholars have long pointed to a fundamental difference in orientation between the Reformer and his closest compatriot, a difference of which he may even have been naively unaware.

The language of Luther in connection with the Sacrament tends to focus on what it is, while the language of Melanchthon tends to focus on what it does. This difference cannot be overestimated.

Hence we see from Luther the Small Catechism's first question on the matter: "What is the Sacrament of the Altar?" But from Melanchthon we see a whole host of meanderings culminating in the Variata of the Augsburg Confession, which could only go as far as to say that the body and blood of Christ are "shown" to the recipient: "Concerning the Lord's Supper our churches teach that with bread and wine the body and blood are truly shown to those who eat in the Lord's Supper." This statement is true as far as it goes, but the tragedy here is that it is Melanchthon's "improvement"; what it replaces is a confession "that the Body and Blood of Christ are truly present, and are distributed to those who eat the Supper of the Lord."

What resulted was much ado about Something. Friedrich Bente aptly described the fallout from this little change in his historical introduction to the Book of Concord, "The changes made in the Augsburg Confession brought great distress, heavy cares, and bitter struggles upon the Lutheran Church, both from within and without."

You can say that again. Not only in our history, as Bente reports: "Church history records the manifold and sinister ways in which they were exploited by the Reformed as well as the Papists; especially by the latter (the Jesuits) at the religious colloquies, beginning 1540, until far into the time of the Thirty Years' War, in order to deprive the Lutherans of the blessings guaranteed by the religious Peace of Augsburg, 1555"; but also right down to the moment: receptionism is arguably the most salient controversy among us today, and is at least partly responsible for the 205 comments and counting on this thread.

Luther was dedicated to his friend Melanchthon, and as far as I am concerned, his dedication to him is the primary reason he was not more forthright in recognizing and dealing with the man's receptionism. Melanchthon was, in Luther's estimation, a Greek scholar second to none, a brilliant thinker and writer, and, most importantly, a close companion and confidant in the midst of some life-and-death theological struggles which were very personal. One does not easily part ways with someone in whom so much personal approbation is invested.

Hence we may attribute a certain blindness on the part of Luther to the true leanings of his partner.

But there was no blindness in him regarding the Sacrament. None of the ambiguities in Melanchthon can be found in Luther. His well-known insistence at the Marburg Colloquy on the meaning of "is" in the Sacrament may be contrasted with his consternation over the fact that Melanchthon, who was sitting right next to him, would not do more of the talking.

Luther's death in 1546 prevented him from learning of the degree to which Melanchthon desired to form alliances with the Calvinists, which is now a matter of record.

In short, receptionism never arose in the heart of Luther. The birth of that dragon may be traced to Melanchthon.

Several years ago I paid my respects at Luther's grave before the pulpit in the Castle Church at Wittenberg. The church was filled with pilgrims and distractions that day, which may explain why I neglected to remember that Melanchthon's grave is there too, on the other side of the nave, before the lectern. Or perhaps it was Providence which kept me from Melanchthon's side. It certainly is Providence which has kept my heart stayed on the words This is my body which, evidently, are farther from Melanchthon's side than we might have thought.

The Difference between a Tabernacle and a Monstrance

The discussion continues.

We're now up to 185 comments on, I think, four posts. Click on the "reservation of the elements" label for all the relative posts.

Let's consider now the difference between a tabernacle and a monstrance.

Aside from the obvious, the monstrance allows for a perpetual elevation of the host. The monstrance essentially does what the celebrant does when he holds the host aloft immediately after it is consecrated. With its gilded rays, it also silently confesses that the host is the Body of Christ.

All in all, a monstrance is certainly preferable to a wastebasket!

And yet, as one ponders its use over against the use of a tabernacle, the question of abuse does inevitably arise, which we will do well to define carefully.

What is the abuse against which the Formula warns? I would suggest that the abuse is twofold, when one attempts to use the elements for a purpose for which they were not intended. We could all agree that using the host as an amulet or charm is an abuse. Placing it into the coffin of a loved one, or on one's mantle, is an abuse. What about a Corpus Christi procession? What about a monstrance?

The nature of possible abuse here is, it seems to me, one of two kinds, or both. It's either in expecting the Sacrament to do something it has not been instituted to do--we'll call this the abuse of questionable expectations--or in keeping it from doing what it has been instituted to do, namely, forgive sins when it is received in faith. We'll call that the abuse of impediment. And the abuse of questionable expectations may have the potential of giving rise to the abuse of impediment.

In itself, the nature of the former abuse, of questionable expectations, is somewhat forgivable. The woman who came up behind Jesus to touch the hem of His garment was certainly not chided for expecting something good to happen to her where Jesus had not promised it, and yet, in that case, something good did happen to her, and Jesus certainly did not rebuke her, though she feared He might. Similarly the people who expected something good to happen to them by the shadow of the Apostle Peter passing by were not reproached for this expectation, either by the Apostle, or by St. Luke the writer.

In a curiously similar way, people who expect good to come from proximity to the Sacrament, though it is not specifically promised, may perhaps be forgiven for this (especially the uninformed). They might even benefit from it, for all we know, though we have no promise that they will, and we become uncomfortable with the idea that people might turn to this kind of thing rather than to blessing where blessing is specifically promised and given. That would become the second abuse--I have called it, for lack of a better term, the abuse of impediment. That abuse is certainly the abuse of greatest concern. In fact, the primary difficulty with the abuse of questionable expectation may well be that it leads to the abuse of impediment.

So the matter of the use of a monstrance might be said to fall within the category of questionable expectation, though not necessarily.

Elevation of the elements prior to their reception is certainly not an abuse; yet it is specifically for adoration alone that the elements are elevated. It is a confession that what we are about to receive is truly Christ. No false expectation there, and no impediment. It is a laudable thing to elevate the host and cup.

Hours of adoration before a monstrance seem to fall within the category of questionable expectation, since people come to the church for no other reason than to pray there, before the exposed Sacrament. Put together with the faulty view sometimes promulgated within the Church of Rome that there is more benefit to be gained from merely witnessing the Mass than from receiving the Sacrament, this can be a problem, an abuse of the impediment variety.

Hence, the tabernacle seems a better receptacle for the reliquae than the monstrance, though not necessarily. We certainly would not want to discourage oral reception of the Sacrament. I suppose there might conceivably be a setting in which a monstrance would be understood as the fit receptacle for reliquae waiting to be carried to the sick, though I'm certainly not convinced of it. For my part, I think a tabernacle is preferable, since it is more clearly a place whose intention is reservation for the intended use of the Sacrament, in addition to which it is a safer place, when there is no one keeping guard.

Interestingly, and in spite of this, a recently uncovered reference in Luther indicates that he seems to have thought a monstrance acceptable, believe it or not. German scholar Jurgen Diestelmann has some new evidence which needs to be considered, of which you may expect a review to come forth from the pen of John Stephenson, in the next issue of Logia. Now if Luther recommended a monstrance, whatever else that might mean, it certainly adds weight to the already substantial mound of evidence that he believed that the real presence was not a temporary thing.

And that, of course, is something I am eager to confess. And this was the reason I determined the tabernacle to be ultimately a better thing than a pyx and cruet kept in the sacristy.

So We're A Little Behind

. . . which, as I always say, is better than being a big behind.

Still, it would be nice if the problem of a Gottesdienst balance below where it really needs to be could be alleviated with a little here, and a little there, from our loyal subscribers and friends of Gottesdienst. Anyone who can spare a little extra, say five or ten bucks even, please click here:

We do have a record of using all our donations efficiently and knowing how to operate well on a shoestring. Thanks in advance!

St. Paul's on the Air

Here are all the programs we've put up on the web since January. The most recent, which is last on the list, is for Quinquagesima (February 22) and the coming of Lent. Have a listen:

Why Reserve the Reliquae?

The discussion continues unabated, and I am pleased to find that some even find it edifying. It started, I think, over a post I rather offhandedly made in late January, at Gottesdienst Online about my desire to return to the historic historic readings. This was quickly picked up at HistoricLectionary.com, and some folks offhandedly remarked that I was all about innovation. I replied, huh? It turned out that some were a bit uncomfortable about my use of the tabernacle, and so I pulled the discussion in here, at my own blog, first with this post, and then with this one. In all, I count 144 comments made on this matter, in the space of about half a month. As Venkman has noted, it's about as much writing as some M.Div. theses.

Fr. Skillman has recently provided a nice summary on the nature of the entire discussion:

"This and the last major post have constituted a great discussion. Would you agree?

"The questioners are usually thoughtful, kind, and direct. The answerers (yourself included, of course) are thought provoking. I still have some confusion on this subject, but I have been edified by the discussion.

"I trust no one here thinks that this is keeping them from their 'real ministry'. I believe that discussions such as these are part of the 'real ministry'.

"Anyway, what a wonderful discussion. Thanks to you, our host, and the other participants."

I agree, Fr. Skillman, and thank you, too.

Fr. Messer, I alao appreciate your fine impersonation of me in my brief absence yesterday; I am truly flattered. Thank you. And you are right, of course; I couldn't have said better myself what you said:

"Thanks much [to interlocutor Michael Francis] for clarifying your logic. I now understand where you are having trouble with Fr. Eckardt's practice, although I'm confused about your assertion that the only inference you can make regarding Fr. Eckardt's desire to always keep something in reserve is that he does so for the sake of adoration (so that he might always have something to which he might genuflect).

"The reason for my confusion here is because I thought he already gave answer to this above when he stated that he always keeps something in reserve in case an emergency arises and he needs to distribute the Sacrament. His answer was not, 'I always keep something in reserve so that I might have something to adore and something to which I might offer my genuflection'. Why, then, must the only inference at which you can arrive be that he always keeps something in reserve for adoration? It seems to me that another possible inference (indeed, even a solid conclusion) is that he always keeps something in reserve so that he might have the Body and Blood of Christ available for distribution. Thus, where you see a 'glaring contradiction', I see a faithful consistency in his practice.

"Nevertheless, I should probably bow out and allow Fr. Eckardt to speak for himself."

Fr. Messer, you saved me the trouble and time of figuring out how to say the same thing. Again, thanks.

Honestly I have been a bit mystified by Michael Francis' continual allegations that I am being evasive. Rev. McCain makes the same claim, of course. It's a clever ploy to say someone's being evasive rather than to say either that you don't understand what he's saying, or that you simply don't agree with it.

What's puzzling to some is the fact that Mr. Francis is calling me inconsistent because I said that if I were called out to an emergency on a Saturday night, and only one host remained, I would still break it in half and leave half behind. Now the practical answer to that should be self-evident. What if, on returning, say, at 11 p.m. and going home, I should be called out at 2 a.m. on yet another emergency? Responsible reservation dictates perpetual reservation, for this expressed reason: the nature of an emergency is that one never knows when it will happen.

In addition, however, this practice also prevents the awkwardness of having to indicate to parishioners arriving on a Sunday morning after an emergency in which the last host was used, that there happened to be no Sacrament in reserve today, so be sure not to genuflect, for if you did so, you'd be doing so accidentally. To which most would look quizzically and say, huh? Much easier, and more effective, to teach that the elements are in reserve, the eternal light is always lit, and therefore be advised that it is appropriate to genuflect when you enter.

But actually, I'm slightly amused by the allegation that I'm being evasive. Evasiveness implies sneakiness, or having something to hide. Let's see, what could I have to hide? The fact that I desire to adore the body of Christ? But clearly I am not hiding that desire! Would that all the world knew of it!

But no, it's not really that, is it. It's the thought that I would only consecrate them to adore them, even though I made it clear that I meant to consume them (or have them consumed) at some point after adoring them. I guess that would mean it's the thought that I would mainly want to adore them, even more than wanting to consume them.

Well, let's suppose, just for the sake of argument, that that were true.

So what?

Would that constitute abuse?

I trow not. For I suggest that someone whose main desire, even during communion, is to consume, more than to adore, is the one who's really being abusive. Consider St. Paul's problem with the Corinthians: "For in eating every one taketh before other his own supper: and one is hungry, and another is drunken. What? have ye not houses to eat and to drink in? or despise ye the church of God, and shame them that have not? what shall I say to you? shall I praise you in this? I praise you not."

For if we consume without adoration--by which we must mean at least some form of acknowledgment of the Incarnate One--we have certainly become guilty of abuse of the Sacrament: "For he that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh damnation to himself, not discerning the Lord's body."

Now just so nobody gets all rankled, I am not accusing anyone here of taking things that far; but I am seeking to draw out some questioning threads so that we might venture to see where they may logically lead.

Join Us at the Table

Every week we have this little radio Program, St. Paul's on the Air, which for the past two years or more has been going out on the local radio station every Sunday morning at 7:30, and, ever since Issues, Etc. was kicked out of the Missouri Synod and launched an internet based station, Pirate Christian Radio, has been appearing there at, I think, around 7:30 a.m. on Wednesdays.

Well actually, if you'd like to have a listen, you can do so any time you want, by going to our own website. In fact, if you want, you can listen right now.