Showing posts with label Sacraments. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sacraments. Show all posts

Friday, February 15, 2013

Young Communicants & Voting

On Interviews & Testimonies, Part VI

Continued from Part V

Q.  Should these young children vote?  If they are full communing members of the church, how can they be forbidden the right to vote?  Should children admitted to the table become voting members as well?

No, young children should not vote.  They can eat at the Table, but they don't participate in ruling the church.  Surely one can discern the significant differences between eating at the Lord’s Table and passing judgments in the church’s council.  What happens in your families?  Children are invited to the family table to eat, but they are not invited to participate in the family’s decision-making process. Why?  That duty belongs to the father and mother since they have the prerequisite wisdom and experience to make wise judgments about the family finances, plans, etc.

Therefore, we must make provision for a two-fold distinction within the membership of the church: 1) members that do not vote (baptized children or new Christians who partake of the Lord’s supper but are not old enough or mature enough to vote); and 3) the adult communing and voting members.

Maturity is needed for voting, not for eating; for making complicated decisions, not for feeding on Jesus.  Jesus feeds all, but not everyone is qualified to make decisions that bear upon the doctrine and government of his church.  Every baptized member of the church is part of the family of God, but not necessarily mature enough to pass judgment in the assembly.  This means that the proper place for training and extensive examinations is at the time when the young man or woman prepares to take on the responsibilities and privileges of voting membership!

The distinction between communing and voting can be biblically sustained, even if the Bible does not really talk about “voting” as we practice it in America.  In the Bible, every circumcised member of the community and his entire family ate at the Passover and participated in the festival meals (Ex. 12:48), but only those who had reached a certain age could go to war and be counted in the census (Num. 1:3).  Oftentimes, modern Christians are more interested in avoiding any criticism of being “undemocratic” than genuinely thinking through the implications of nine-, ten-, or even 16-year-old children voting on pastoral calls, church by-laws, or building programs.  Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me,” not “Let the little children participate in the community's decision making process.”

In our homes we practice this distinction regularly.  Small children are acknowledged by the parents as being part of the family, as having a right to participation in the full life of the family, especially when this is manifest at the family dinner table.  Parents feed their children, they regularly provide them with all the tokens and symbols of their incorporation and membership in the family.  At the same time, parents recognize that until the child grows in knowledge and experience he will not be capable of making judgments about the leadership and direction of the family.   Children are not given responsibility for keeping the budget, nor do we call together the entire family and vote on the weightier matters that parents must consider in ruling the family.  Maturity and experience are needed to make such decisions.  Thus, we must make a fundamental and important distinction between communing and voting members, between partaking of the dinner with which Jesus feeds us and making informed judgments about the administration and direction of the church.

Nothing in the PCA Book of Church Order forbids the Session from establishing a voting age for communing members.  One of the former stated clerks of the PCA once noted that it is, in fact, the prerogative of the Session to establish a voting age if it so desired.   Members of the original committee that wrote the PCA BCO have expressed their desire to keep the language ambiguous so that each Session would have liberty in this area.

Saturday, February 2, 2013

Young Child Communion & the Westminster Standards

On Interviews & Testimonies, Part V

Continued from Part IV

Q. Doesn't admitting young children violate the Westminster Standards?  Shouldn't we only admit mature believers who can understand what is happening at the Table?

Is young child communion consistent with the Westminster Standards?  Yes, I believe so.  First, consider the Westminster Confession of Faith (hereafter WCF).  No mention is made (wisely) of ages or intellectual capacity in either chapter 14 “On Saving Faith” or chapter 15 “Of Repentance unto Life.”  Furthermore, paragraph 3 of chapter 14 shows that the Westminster divines were sensitive to the fact that mature faith ought not to be made the criteria for genuine faith since saving faith “is different in degrees, weak or strong, may be often and many ways assailed and weakened, but gets the victory; growing up in many to the attainment of a full assurance through Christ, who is both the author and finisher of our faith.”  Surely it would be wrong to insist that a young covenant child give evidence of a mature faith before we count them as a genuine believer!  Genuine faith may be present in covenant children, not having as yet grown up into “the attainment of a full assurance through Christ.”  Why should such faith—weak and immature as it may be—serve as a barrier to the covenant child’s participation in the Lord’s communion meal?

The mention of assurance ought to remind us of another statement in the Confession which teaches that lack of the conviction of the assurance of faith is not necessarily evidence of the absence of saving faith.  The Confession does indeed hold out to us the goal of attaining full assurance since those believers who “truly believe in the Lord Jesus, and love him in sincerity, endeavoring to walk in all good conscience before him, may in this life be certainly assured that they are in the state of grace” (18.1), but the divines are also quick to remind us that “This infallible assurance does not so belong to the essence of faith, but that a true believer may wait long, and conflict with many difficulties, before he be partaker of it” (18.3).

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

On Leaven, Yeast, and the Lord's Supper

I offer some biblical and theological thoughts on the question of what kind of bread to use in the Lord's Supper.  This is not a polished essay.  I'm just "casting my bread upon the waters," as Solomon advises (Eccl. 11:1).

1.  The main thing to think about is that the unleavened bread is bread made without the old sour "starter" dough that contains the yeast.  In normal situations the yeast comes from that starter  "leaven."  "Leaven" refers to the old, sour reserved dough that contains the yeast.  Leaven contains yeast.  Leaven is not the same as yeast.  The NIV and other translations screw this up entirely.

2.  When bread is being made, there are two sources for yeast.  First, you can get yeast from the old leaven that you have "reserved."  In fact, the yeast must be imported into the "leaven" at the start of the process.  When the process begins yeast is cultivated from the lees of wine.  Then the yeast is put into the dough.  A portion of the dough is used to cook the first batch, but a larger portion is "reserved" in order have the yeast readily available for use in later loaves.  This "starter" dough that is kept is what is called the "leaven."  It's the old, sour dough used as a delivery mechanism for the yeast.

3.  The second way to get yeast is to get it "fresh" when it's cultivated from wine.  In the ancient world people knew how to rise bread without the sourdough lump (leaven).  Technically, a fresh loaf of bread made with this newly cultivated yeast is not "leavened."   What this means is that the first batch of yeasted, rising bread that is made with the new yeast is not leavened bread.  It is yeasted, but not from the sour dough leaven.  So you could say that a loaf made with yeast not from the reserved, sour leaven is still unleavened bread.  It's new.  It doesn't use the old, sour stuff.  The bread we use for the Lord's  Supper in our church is not sour dough bread.  It is not leavened bread.  It contains fresh yeast.  It is yeasted, but not leavened.  This is theologically and symbolically significant.

Saturday, December 1, 2012

Private Masses

Calvin: "I call it a private mass whenever there is no communion among believers in the Lord's Supper, even if a large crowd of people are otherwise present" (Institutes 4.8.7).

Calvin is talking about a priest doing the Eucharist with the gathered people not communing.  It's "private" even if there's a lot of people in the room while it's being performed by the priest because no one but the priest is partaking of the bread and wine.

Of course, private masses are still performed for various reasons by Roman priests. But the Roman church has reintroduced communion in both kinds as well as regular congregational participation at the weekly Supper.  The Reformation was pretty successful in dealing with the late medieval problem of the withdrawal of the laity from the Table.

But there's another problem with the way modern Christians celebrate the Lord's Supper that might be labeled as "private mass" or maybe just "private communion."  The word "communion" refers not only to our communion with the resurrected Jesus through the bread and wine at the Supper.  There's also a horizontal dimension to the Table that flows from union with Jesus.  We are united with one another.  We commune with Jesus and with one another.  "Because there is one loaf, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of one loaf" (1 Cor. 10:17).

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Holiday Feasting!

Everyone knows, of course, that the pilgrims established a feast, invited the Indians and the whole community, and all for the purpose of giving thanks to God for his gracious provisions.  But did you know that in decreeing a feast, they were acting according to a long tradition among the people of God?A tradition that gives priority to feasts—joyous communal eating and drinking—over against fasting and penitential self-affliction?

When the church is healthy she multiplies feasts, when she is sick and wayward she increases fasting and turns the feasting Table of the Lord’s Supper into a somber Tomb.   This is what happened in the late Middle Ages, before Calvin and Luther restored weekly communion, feasting, singing, and gave Christian people a reason for giving thanks.  Knowing that Jesus died to set us from from sin, death, and the devil leads to thankful feasting.

This tradition of giving precedence to feasting is not merely a tradition, it’s mandated by God in the Bible—Old and New Testaments.  God multiplied feasts and commanded his people to eat and drink and rejoice regularly, repeatedly.  Here is just one example:
And before the LORD your God, in the place that he will choose, to make his name dwell there, you shall eat the tithe of your grain, of your wine, and of your oil, and the firstborn of your herd and flock, that you may learn to fear the LORD your God always. And if the way is too long for you, so that you are not able to carry the tithe, when the LORD your God blesses you, because the place is too far from you, which the LORD your God chooses, to set his name there, then you shall turn it into money and bind up the money in your hand and go to the place that the LORD your God chooses and spend the money for whatever you desire—oxen or sheep or wine or strong drink, whatever your appetite craves. And you shall eat there before the LORD your God and rejoice, you and your household (Deut. 14:23-26).
So why does God command us to feast?

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Salus extra ecclesiam non est

When Augustine was contemplating becoming a Christian Simplicianus, Ambrose's tudor and assistant, told him a story about Victorinus.  Victorinus was a Roman rhetorician and translator of neo-Platonic philosophical works. He had begun to read the Scriptures and study the Christian faith, encouraged by Simplicianus.  Simplicianus told Augustine that Victorinus once came to him in private saying, "I should like you to know that I am now a Christian."  Simplicianus replied, "That I will not believe, and I shall not count you as a Christian until I see you in the church of Christ."  That was wise advice from Simplicianus to Augustine, the young man for whom contemplation was everything.

The Latin in the title to this post means "There is no salvation outside of the church."  Typically, we add "ordinarily" to that slogan just to be sure that everyone understands that there are extraordinary situations where people do trust Jesus but are not able to join with a local congregation. The point is, however, that becoming a Christian is not simply something that happens in one's head.

Friday, October 26, 2012

The Trinity Institute

This morning I return from Birmingham after having two days of meetings for the Trinity Institute for Biblical and Culture Studies. This was the first meeting of the board of directors. We accomplished a lot, but there's still a ton of work to be done. I'm typing this on my iPad, so I'm not going to take the time now to add a lot of links. I'll do that when I get home. Look for more on the Trinity Institute in the coming months. Peter Leithart will be the President and resident scholar. We will be offering all kinds of educational opportunities designed to promote our distinctive understanding and practice of Christian liturgy and life.

Monday, January 12, 2009

Welcoming Little Children

In Luke 9:46-48 Jesus puts an end to an argument among his disciples about who is the greatest by taking a child and "putting him by his side." Then he said to them,"Whoever welcomes this child in my name welcomes me."

There's a lot going on in that little paragraph. But I'd like to highlight something that is often missed. When Jesus sets the child by his side this is not first of all a metphor for something else. Receiving a child is not an allegory pointing to something “deeper” or more spiritual. It’s not simply an “object lesson.” Jesus means first of all that true greatness in his kingdom is about receiving little children. You want to be great? Then welcome little children in my name.

By placing the child by his side, Jesus is identifying himself with the child. You receive this child, you receive me. This is similar to Matt. 25 where Jesus says that "when you do something for the least of these my disciples you do it for me."

Children have a position of honor in Christ’s kingdom, and adults better get with Jesus’ program. This is also evident from Paul's discussion in 1 Cor. 12 of the seemingly weaker members of the body. They deserve special honor. And remember all of those times in the Gospels were the disciples are rebuked by Jesus for not paying attention to babies and little children. Suffer the little children to come to me, and so on.
There's another interesting thing about Jesus' words. The language of "welcoming" repeated 4 times here by Luke was virtually a technical term for hospitality in the original language. Receiving/welcoming a little child means showing him hospitality, honoring him as a guest at your table.

In his commentary on Luke Joel Green notes that Jesus action and words
"undermines everything that the Roman world would hve taken for granted regarding questions of status and social relations. 'To welcome' people would be to extend to them the honor of hospitality, to regard them as guests (cf. 7:44-46), but one would only welcome a social equal or one whose honor was above one's own. Children, who's place of social residence was defined at the bottome of the ladder or esteem, might be called upon to perform acts of hospitality (e.g., washing the feet of a guest), but normally they would not themselves be receipients of honorable behavior. Jesus turns the social pyramid upside down, undermining the very conventions that led the disciples to deliberate over relative greatness. . ." (p. 391-2).
Jesus says, make children honored guests at your table. If the church is a family, and the Lord's Table is the ritual center of the family, then the children ought to be there.

In the Roman and Helennistic culture of Jesus’ day, children were not honored, they were little higher than slaves on the social scale. Jesus turns the social pyramid upside down. I think the church still has a lot of learning to do about the place of children in our gatherings, especially at the Lord's Supper.

Monday, October 27, 2008

Free Liturgical Advice #4 - Do it; Don't Talk About it!

How many times to I have to say this? Who's listening? Anyone?

Don't preach another sermon at the Table before Communion. We've already heard one sermon; and it if it was a Presbyterian sermon, it was probably already much too long. Why do we need to hear another sermonette before the Supper? Enough talking. We don't need another extended explanation or invitation to the Table before the Lord's Supper. Just do the Supper as Jesus commanded.

Our tradition is so very screwy on this point. We feel like we have to "fence" the Table long and hard in order for the Supper to be effective, so that people will take it seriously enough. Even if we grant the need to take the Supper seriously, what makes us think that talking about it for 15 minutes before we pass out the food will actually make a difference? Presbyterians don't seem to be able to appreciate ritual unless every step is "explained" in the liturgy.

Besides, the Table is not all about us turning in on ourselves or even our individual devotional experience with the Lord. It's a social event, a ritual meal with other people!

It's no surprise to me that most Presbyterian and Reformed churches don't practice weekly communion. Who would want to endure such a protracted call to "serious" self-reflection and "genuine," "honest," "true," "real," "internal" appreciation of the Table every dang week? Not me.

Remember, I've argued against this kind of thing at length here. Perhaps I should serialize my talk at this year's PCA General Assembly and post it here on my blog.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Christ's Presence at the Table

Over at Evangelical Catholicity Jonathan Bonomo has a friendly response to Will Barker's talk at the GA Colloquium on the Sacraments. I think this kind of courteous, but pointed interaction with the substance of these talks is fruitful.

I said something like this in my comments on his post, but it bears repeating—over and over and over again. The way “spiritual” and “spiritually” are understood by most in conservative presbyterian circles is not Calvinian. Heck, it’s close to subchristian. It's certainly not biblical. It always amazes and angers me that people pit “spiritual” against “physical,” “material,” and/or “body” in popular Reformed theology. The adjective "spiritual" in the Bible is a reference to the work of the Holy Spirit. Something that is "spiritual" is "of the Holy Spirit," and not necessarily anti- or supra-material or physical. It’s the Holy SPIRIT, people! We should all agree to capitalize the word "Spiritual" from now on in order to get this straight.
"How is your Spiritual life this week?"
"Fine, I have been striving to not grieve the Spirit in my behavior at work"
"That's great. I've been praying for you."
What is worse, I’ve found that even most ministers think that the “spiritual presence of Jesus” in the Supper is a shorthand way of saying that he is omnipresent as God the Son. Press them about what they mean by "spiritual presence" and they will say that Jesus is present invisibly and “spiritually” in his divine nature at the Table. But that doesn't get us anywhere. God the Son is omnipresent as God always and everywhere. So is the "spiritual presence of Jesus" at the Lord's Supper nothing more than the reality of his divine presence at Home Depot or Greenbriar Golf Club? No. The miracle of the Lord's Supper is that the Holy Spirit makes the glorified, life-giving body and blood of Jesus present to his people.

Perhaps we are so sloppy in our thinking about the Supper because we practice it so infrequently and we are so frightened to say that Baptism and the Lord's Supper actually do something. Talking about Baptism and the Lord's Supper in our circles is pretty frustrating.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Show Forth the Lord's Death

In my presentation at the GA Colloquium on the Sacraments I argued for a more joyful, communal experience at the Lord's Table. Will Barker gave a brief, gracious response to my paper suggesting that there was a place for a more solemn experience at the Table. He based this on Paul's statement in 1 Cor. 11:26, "For as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes." I believe Dr. Barker's 10 minute response will be posted shortly.

Here are a couple of things to think about. First, I grant that there can be a time and a place for a more solemn, subdued administration of the Supper. Depending on what's happening in the congregation, it may be appropriate given what is happening in the life of the congregation that week. The church may have a more subdued experience at the Table immediately after the death of a prominent member, or the excommunication of a brother or sister, or perhaps anytime when the congregation as a whole needs to mourn or repent. The first time the Corinthian church came together for the Lord's Supper after Paul's letter was read to the congregation probably wasn't the most joyful experience. I don't have a problem with occasional solemn communion services. At least once a year on Maunday Thursday the Supper should probably be experienced as such.

Second, "proclaiming the Lord's death" is not the same thing as mourning his death, or worse, attempting to relive the circumstances of his death. "Proclaiming the Lord's death" could mean one of two things. On the one hand, it could be a reference to the fact that the Good News of Jesus' death is proclaimed every time we eat the bread and drink the wine. The Supper is a public enactment of the application of the death of Jesus to the people of God. The fact that the "proclaiming" happens "as you eat this bread and drink the cup," means it's not a representation or reenactment of the death of Jesus. Eating and drinking cannot possibly be considered symbolic reenactments of death. Eating and drinking are about life and living!

The death of Jesus has happened. It's in the past. We come to the Table where the bread and wine are already there. The body and blood are separated, which means that the death has occurred. In the OT sacraficial system, the blood always had to be separated from the body of the animal, and that separation signaled the death of the victim. We come to the Table that has been spread for us because Jesus has already died. We now enjoy the fruits of his death. The death of Jesus cannot be reenacted at the Table. We can only enjoy the results of the death of Jesus—his body and blood given to us as food. Once again, it's a Table, not a tomb.

Third, the other interpretation of 1 Cor. 1:26 is the one I favor. The Lord's Supper is a covenant memorial meal. By means of the Supper the church memorializes the death of Jesus to the Father. When understood against the backdrop of the Old Testament "memorials," this New Covenant memorial meal is a dramatized ritual prayer reminding God of His covenant. The Lord’s Supper is the New Covenant memorial rite. It is the fulfillment of all the older ways that the Lord instituted as the means whereby His people would call upon His Name and dramatically ask Him to remember His covenant. All the memorials of the old order are now fulfilled and completed (compacted) into one simple covenantal memorial meal. Jesus says, “Do this as my memorial.”

At the Table we memorialize the death of Jesus. This is not about our "remembering" but about the church's reminding God of his covenant promises. It's about our action toward God. This is our prayer to God to remember Jesus and keep His covenant. We "show forth the Lord's death" to the Father asking Him to keep His gracious promises to us in Christ. In the case of the Lord’s Supper this memorializing is an act of the congregation, a pleading of the promises of God. This comes to focus in the prayers of thanksgiving (Greek: eucharist) and memorial before the bread and wine are distributed and eaten, but it is not limited to this. Indeed, the entire meal shows forth the death of Christ, as Paul says in 1 Cor. 11:26: as often as we eat and drink, we show forth the death of Christ.

This “proclamation” is not limited to the prayer or the breaking of the bread, but we memorialize Christ to the Father by means of the common meal. Here is the memorial of Your Son’s atoning sacrifice for us, O Lord, remember and be gracious towards us. Traditionally these prayers always included a summary of the life and work of Jesus Christ. A eucharistic memorial prayer should sound something like this:
It is truly appropriate and right that we should at all times and in all places give thanks to You, O Lord, our heavenly Father, almighty everlasting God. But it is especially fitting that we should now, gathered around this Table, thank You for Your gracious covenant promises to us in Christ. Remember, Father, our Lord’s humble birth, His holy life, His innocent sufferings and death, and His resurrection and ascension for us. Faithfully keep Your covenant with us for Jesus’ sake and come now to nourish and equip us for service in Your kingdom. By Your Spirit make the body and blood of our Lord life-giving nourishment for Your people; in Jesus’ Name we pray. Amen.
A Eucharistic prayer like this, then, together with the doing of the Lord’s Supper “show forth the death of Jesus” (1 Cor. 11:26) to the Father. The whole meal is a dramatic prayer, a pleading of the promises to the Father by memorializing His Son’s birth, life, suffering, death, and resurrection for us.

All of this to say that our "proclaiming the Lord's Death" at the Table does not demand or imply a solemn, funereal atmosphere for the Supper. The death of Jesus should be proclaimed joyfully, whether to others (as a Gospel enactment) or to the Father (as our memorializing of Jesus work for us).

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Who is a Christian?

Baptized children are Christians. What's the problem? A baptized baby is a Christian. Covenant children who have been baptized are called Christians. What else would they be called?

Why is there such resistance to this? Some people act as if they have never heard of such a thing before. I guess it's because we have grown accustomed to talking about people "becoming Christians" when they are older and have conversion experiences. A baptized child then "becomes a Christian" when he gets old enough to pray a certain prayer or experience the guilt of sin and the forgiveness of Christ in a more mature way. If this is how one "becomes a Christian" how can we considered little children "Christians" before they have had such an experience? You see the problem.

But this is not really the best way to put it. I'm all for conversion experiences. Our Christian children need to experience the power and guilt of sin in order to appreciate the forgiveness of God. But when a baptized Christian child experiences in a fresh, mature way God's mercy and grace in high school or college they have not "become a Christian." They are growing and learning truths about themselves and God that they couldn't learn as little children. That's great. It's absolutely needful. But let's stop telling them that they weren't Christians before those experiences. That's just not accurate.

A baptized infant bears the name of Christ. God graciously gives him a new name. He is baptized into the name of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The child is thereby baptized into the body of Christ and becomes a member of the church. Baptized children don't "join the church" later on when they are older. Their formal admission into the membership of the church is by baptism. And if they are members of the church, they are Christians. How could it be otherwise?

But someone might ask,"But are they truly Christians? Are they really, genuinely Christians?" And by this they no doubt are asking if this particular baptized child is regenerate and one of the elect? But this same question can be asked of any member of the church, child or adult. There are all sorts of people who pray the sinners prayer, have singular conversion experiences, profess faith in Christ, etc. They don't all turn out to be "real, true Christians," do they?

You see, this way of using the designation "Christian" is really not very helpful at all. If we are talking about inward regeneration and a true change of heart, how can anyone know for certain who is a "true Christian." We can't. We don't deal directly with other people's hearts and souls. We relate to each other through words and actions and ritual signs.

And why do we deny to little children genuine spirituality? Why can't little children have a faith appropriate to their age? Why must all professions of faith by little children be regarded with such suspicion? Why is it more real for an adult to say, "I believe," than for a little child? I seem to recall Jesus making the faith of little children paradigmatic for adults! We have reversed it.

Baptized children are Christians. We ought to relate to them as such. We pray that they grow up to be faithful Christians. This is the proper qualifying adjective. There are lots of Christians who are not faithful to their calling in baptism. Some even must be cut off from the body of Christ and lose the privilege of being called "Christian." All of us are inconsistent and fail to live up to the name we were given at Baptism. Even so, at Baptism infant children receive the name "Christian."

Here's a helpful portion of the Second Helvetic (Swiss) Reformed confession (A.D 1566) on Baptism:
WHAT IT MEANS TO BE BAPTIZED. Now to be baptized in the name of Christ is to be enrolled, entered, and received into the covenant and family, and so into the inheritance of the sons of God; yes, and in this life to be called after the name of God; that is to say, to be called a son of God; to be cleansed also from the filthiness of sins, and to be granted the manifold grace of God, in order to lead a new and innocent life. Baptism, therefore, calls to mind and renews the great favor God has shown to the race of mortal men. For we are all born in the pollution of sin and are the children of wrath. But God, who is rich in mercy, freely cleanses us from our sins by the blood of his Son, and in him adopts us to be his sons, and by a holy covenant joins us to himself, and enriches us with various gifts, that we might live a new life. All these things are assured by baptism. For inwardly we are regenerated, purified, and renewed by God through the Holy Spirit and outwardly we receive the assurance of the greatest gifts in the water, by which also those great benefits are represented, and, as it were, set before our eyes to be beheld.

Friday, June 13, 2008

Doing the Rite of Communion Right

The Colloquium on the Sacraments went well this morning. A good time was had by all. You can find a copy of all the papers here. The title of my lecture was "Efficacy and Ritual Performance: How the Administration of the Sacraments Affects What They Actually Accomplish." Have at it. I'll try to post an audio version sometime soon.

BIG UPDATE:

Here are all four presentations in the order they were presented. The first one has the opening comments of the moderator and then Will Barker's presentation. Enjoy!

Will Barker's Presentation on the Reformation and puritan background (7.1mb mp3 file)

Rob Rayburn's presentation (6.7mb mp3 file).

Ligon Duncan's presentation (6.1mb mp3 file)

Jeff Meyers's presenation (7.9mb mp3 file).

Responses from each speaker and Q & A session.

Thursday, May 29, 2008

PCA General Assembly Colloquium on the Sacraments

I finished my presentation on sacramental efficacy for the General Assembly Colloquium this year. I need to get it to the convener tomorrow. The stipulated question that each of the 4 speakers were asked to address is: What do the sacraments actually accomplish in their administration?

I sought to answer this question from a slightly different perspective. I've broken the question up into two parts, each adressing two dimensions of the problem. First, it's not enough to simply ask what the Lord's Supper, for example, accomplishes, but what ought it to accomplish?

And once we answer that, then the more difficult question is: Does the Lord’s Supper actually accomplish what God intends in our churches? And if it doesn’t, what’s the problem?

Most Reformed people would respond to the problem of the Supper's not accomplishing what God intends with a reference to the individual communicant’s lack of faith. Efficacy depends on the faithful reception of the Supper. No faith, no benefits. True enough. But is that the whole story? What if the way we do the Supper, the way the Supper is performed and then experienced is a major part of the problem? What if even faith-filled Christian people are hindered from receiving all the gifts God intends to give in the Supper because we pastors and elders are not being attentive to the proper manner in which the Supper is to be performed?

That's the question I will address in my presentation. Maybe I'll post it after it's delivered on June 10th.

Saturday, April 5, 2008

PCA GA Colloquium on Sacraments

It might be easy to miss this on the official GA website seminar schedule. But there's a pre-General Assembly colloquium on the sacraments scheduled for Tuesday morning, June 10th from 9:30 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. in Reunion Ballroom F.

The speakers for the Colloquium are Will Barker, Ligon Duncan, Jeff Meyers (me), and Rob Rayburn. The question to be discussed: What do the sacraments actually accomplish in their administration?

There will be 4 main presentations by each of the speakers (25 minutes each), then 4 responses by each speaker (10 minutes each). Following that there will be 30 minutes of Q & A from the audience.

If you know someone who would be interested in this kind of discussion, you should alert him so that he makes plans to arrive at GA in time for this Tuesday morning gathering.