The Sacraments in Protestant Practice and Faith

PREFACE

There is a very thin line between courage and foolhardiness. To attempt to describe the sacraments in traditions as rich and varied as those within Protestantism over the course of nearly five centuries may seem to be closer to foolhardiness than courage, yet the benefits of being so bold may more than compensate. Sometimes it is helpful to see the whole forest rather than the individual trees, because recent convergences only make sense in the light of past divergences. This gives me the courage to try to take a long-range perspective so one can see how the individual components of sacramental life fit together. There are plenty of studies on the individual pieces; I am trying to put the whole puzzle together.

Ours is a time when enormous changes in sacramental life, both Protestant and Roman Catholic, are underway. Thousands of Protestant congregations have moved to a much richer and deeper observance of the sacraments in recent decades. Where the eucharist was once infrequent, it has now often become monthly or weekly. The making of new Christians through baptism has been taken much more seriously, as the new prominence of baptismal fonts or pools indicates.

At the same time, contrary movements are evident, particularly in the efforts of the church-growth movement to reach out to new or returning Christians. These churches may frequently see the sacraments as a handicap to reaching the unchurched. Some relegate the eucharist to the margins of church life and even practice rebaptism.

For Roman Catholics, nothing is stationary either. The shortage of priests increasingly makes the mass unavailable in small and remote parishes. Polls show major discrepancies between official dogma and popular belief, especially among the young. Devotions have changed even faster than the liturgy.

Evidently nothing is nailed down permanently. But it is helpful to have some perspectives to evaluate contemporary changes. That is the purpose of this book. In order to understand the present, we must have some knowledge of the past five centuries. Our survey of the past will be rapid and will always point to present realities. The European and North American backgrounds of most of Protestantism can help illumine the recent experiences of younger churches in Africa, Asia, and South America. Even the churches of Australia, New Zealand, and the Pacific islands are barely two hundred years old. So we write from a background of a limited geography to one now global.

A strong conviction of mine is that practice often shapes reflection. Thus I have put first the discussion of what the churches do and second the meanings that people derive from those practices they find familiar. Practice sometimes erupts into controversy, so I have chronicled disputes alongside the practices which sometimes provoked them. The dominant meanings at different times and churches are reviewed as a sequel to practice. There often has been a reciprocal relationship between practice and meaning. I believe one cannot dissociate what the church does from what it says it means. Liturgy and theology are intimately connected and shape each other.

Throughout, I have tried to let authors and texts speak for themselves, albeit sometimes through the translations of others or myself. This seems preferable to paraphrases, which miss the flavor and passion of what is being said. I have had to confine myself to the most important writers and texts. One could write many volumes on the Protestant sacraments if trying to reflect the contributions of the second-string varsity teams. No, I have had to limit myself only to star players.

In all cases, I have given priority to actual liturgical texts which real people have read and heard. The writings of theological mentors may have been read by thousands; the liturgies shaped the lives of millions. The United Methodist liturgies have been published in over four million hymnals; any theologian would be ecstatic to have in print one percent as many books. Liturgical texts reflect both the creative efforts of individuals in the past and the consensus of committees in the present, so they are a good index of both practices and meanings.

In dealing with the present, I have had, again, to be selective. I have chosen my examples from the four most widely used service books in American Protestantism. I believe they are representative of other service books in use in North America and much of Europe. Their similarities are more striking than their differences, yet each has distinctive characteristics. The four blend together in my mind as MELP, i.e., United Methodist Church, Episcopal Church, Evangelical Lutheran Church of America, and the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). These four represent four different liturgical traditions: Methodist, Anglican, Lutheran, and Reformed. Other churches have their own books, or borrow from these four churches, or improvise their own rites.

I have tried to be impartial in describing their contents. As principal writer of the United Methodist eucharist service, I may have some prejudices but at least will reveal the intentions of the compilers of that rite, to which many others contributed.

For those who wish more background, my Protestant Worship: Traditions in Transition (1989) will fill in many details about the worship life of the nine Protestant liturgical traditions. Some, such as Quakers and Pentecostals, are scarcely mentioned in this book. The section For Further Reading lists important books on the sacraments in Protestantism beyond those listed in the notes.

One is struck by the incredibly rich and varied experiences of the various Protestant churches over the past five hundred years. This diversity has been the great contribution of Protestantism to the legacy of Christian worship. As the churches become global, it is exciting to envision the gifts the younger churches of the world will bring. My classes currently include students from Canada, Greece, Japan, Korea, Taiwan, Zimbabwe, and the Philippines. It has given my writing a new focus to realize that I am no longer addressing only citizens of the United States. I thank my students for expanding my horizons.

As I complete forty years of teaching (1959–1999), it is my fervent hope that this book will continue to teach when and where I cannot.

It is a pleasure to thank those who have contributed most direcdy to this book: Nancy Johnson for her careful proofreading, Cheryl Reed for deciphering my notes and typing so faithfully, and above all, my wife, Claire Duggan White, for putting up with me while I was thinking about the book and for putting up without me while I was writing it.

James F. White

University of Notre Dame

September 27, 1998

CHAPTER ONE

Sacramentality

The term sacramentality is relatively modern. One does not find Reformation treatises using this terminology. Yet there are a number of high-profile issues in the sixteenth century for which this modern term is appropriate. Although this may seem an anachronism, it is also helpful in showing both how much and how little has changed in nearly five centuries of Protestant sacramental life. By sacramentality we mean the concept that the outward and visible can convey the inward and spiritual. Physical matters and actions can become transparent vehicles of divine activity and presence. In short, sacraments can be God’s love made visible.

It must be borne in mind that sacramentality is not confined to Christianity or even to religion in general. We have seen in our own time efforts to sacramentalize the American flag. For some, competitive sports take on a sacramental character. Football weekends on some college campuses have all the aura of the great holy days of the liturgical year.

Our purpose in this chapter is to describe those factors that unite the sacraments in various Protestant churches. It is natural to begin with the writings of the sixteenth-century Reformers since many of their statements still have a normative quality. But even where nuances have shifted over time, a chronological sequence seems the best way to trace these changes. Thus the sixteenth-century stratum will receive more attention than the strata laid down in subsequent centuries even though only the more recent layers may be operative today.

We begin with a brief survey of the inherited tradition of the church in the West. Then we examine some concerns about the purposes and functions of sacraments in general. This inevitably leads to the question of how many observances are to be counted as sacraments. From there we may survey how the concept of sacramentality has gradually come into its own. All this will give us background for examining the sacraments individually in subsequent chapters.

THE INHERITED SACRAMENTAL TRADITION

Most of the leaders of the sixteenth-century Protestant Reformation were priests. Both they and their flocks were deeply imbued with the sacramental life of the late medieval church of the West. For the most part, the sacramental life of the Eastern churches was not on their screen at all. It was not until the nineteenth century that reliable information about this major segment of Christianity began to be readily available and appreciated, if not appropriated. So we are dealing with the legacy of the Western half of Christianity only.

By the sixteenth century, the public worship life of Christian laity in the West was almost monopolized by the sacraments. Clergy and members of religious orders might recite the daily offices of prayer in community or, increasingly, in private. A few laypersons might own and use in private books called primers with devotional materials largely from the psalter. But these were for the literate and the affluent. The public worship of the village or city focused on the sacraments, particularly the mass.

One’s entire life from cradle to grave was ministered to by the sacraments. They formed the basis of pastoral care and provided resources for each stage of life passages as well as for the day-in and day-out journey. By the late Middle Ages, birth was greeted within a very few days by baptism. Marriage was considered a sacrament, and death was preceded by a final anointing and followed by a requiem mass. In between birth and death, one might receive confirmation if a bishop chanced by and throughout life one found a remedy for sin in confession. The mass provided weekly, if not daily, encounter with Christ. Ordination was for the clergy only but they constituted a much higher percent of the population than today, in some cities 10 percent of the population.¹ The sacraments were the chief system of ministering to the people and of sustaining their religious life.

But as with all systems, there were omissions and disfunctions. The system often seemed more efficient for the work of the clergy than for the religious life of the people. The sacraments were in Latin, except for the marriage vows. What participation there was at the mass consisted largely in seeing the consecrated host, the so-called ocular communion. One sixteenth-century bishop said that it was never meant that the people should indeed hear the Matins or hear the Mass, but be present there and pray themselves in silence.² Most people received communion once a year and councils had to urge them to keep even this minimum. Baptism was largely a private family ceremony, increasingly performed with a minimum of water. Confession was mandated yearly but had moved increasingly into a perfunctory juridical mode with no sense of community. Protestants were not the only critics of sacramental practice; the Council of Trent (1545–1563) called for an end to all that smacked of ‘avarice,’ . . . ‘irreverence’ . . . [and] ‘superstition’ in the mass.³

From the late fourteenth century onwards, a covert form of rebellion preceded the Reformation in the form of the devotio moderna. This was a move of piety inward, disputing the necessity, if not the efficacy, of the outward and visible sacraments. By no means a repudiation of the sacraments, it was an appeal to what seemed a more immediate reality of inward encounter with the risen Lord. Although not necessarily a precursor of the Reformation, the devotio moderna had many characteristics in common with movements that surfaced in the sixteenth century.

Increasingly, the sacraments had been the subject of intellectual debate. Some of this was necessitated by the proliferation of miraculous stories of bleeding hosts, kneeling donkeys, and Jews converted by the consecrated hosts. For the first eight hundred years, there had been no systematic treatise on what believers experienced in the eucharist. For nearly twelve hundred years, there had been no consensus even on how many sacraments there were. Augustine had mentioned several dozen. But this freedom had come to an end in the thirteenth century with the scholastic urge to define things. A major impetus came through what became the standard theological textbook, The Sentences, written about 1150 by Peter Lombard, briefly bishop of Paris. Lombard tells us that the sacraments of the new law . . . are: baptism, confirmation, the bread of blessing, that is, the eucharist, penance, extreme unction, orders, marriage.⁴ Yet as late as 1179, the Third Lateran Council mentioned enthronement of ecclesiastical persons or the institution of priests, . . . burying the dead as sacraments.⁵

This freedom of interpretation was ended by the later scholastics. The seven that Lombard enumerated became definitive, and the Catholic Council of Trent said no more, or less, than seven. Lombard had said that extreme unction is said to have been instituted by the apostles (James 5). A momentous shift occurred in the thirteenth-century agreement that all seven were instituted by God. Thomas Aquinas tells us that since, therefore, the power of the sacraments is from God alone, it follows that God alone can institute the sacraments.⁶ This statement was taken with utmost seriousness by the Protestant Reformers. The freedom that had prevailed for three-fifths of church history to speak of a wide range of activities as sacraments and not have to base them on institution by God had ended in the thirteenth century. Augustine could call the ashes of Ash Wednesday a sacrament; by the thirteenth century one could not.

And the scholastics, in trying to fit all seven sacraments into a pro-crustean bed of form (words), matter (physical elements), and minister had imposed on them definitions which were not intrinsic to them. What is the matter of marriage except the conjugal act, which was rather difficult for the church to perform? And if each sacrament had to have a precise form, does that not render actions and prayers essentially indifferent? The way was open to a sacramental minimalism in which baptism could be valid even if performed with a medicine dropper. The sign value of the acts and matter was basically indifferent.⁷

A more serious problem lies in the fact that abstract theology now shapes experience rather than vice versa. It may be optimistic to say that in earlier periods the experience of the divine in the sacraments had shaped reflection upon them. But the scholastics, in their rational probing into the effects of grace in each sacrament, reversed the equation that praying shapes believing. Very likely this shift never happened in the East, which to this day has refused to define how many sacraments there are or the precise operation of grace in them. When Aquinas defines the principal effect of this sacrament [extreme unction] as the remission of sin as to its remnants,⁸ that becomes how anointing is experienced. The experience of the sacraments by sixteenth-century Christians was thoroughly shaped by the intellectual baggage they brought to church with them. And this formed a major part of the inheritance of the Reformation from the medieval church.

THE PURPOSES OF THE SACRAMENTS

It is only in recent times that rather abstract treatises have been written on the purposes of sacraments in general. Most Protestant writers on the subject have been more concerned to correct existing practices or to encourage certain forms of piety. And no one writes hymns about sacraments in general!

At the same time, by examining proposed reforms, we can detect across the centuries various purposes coming to the forefront and motivating change. Thus we shall be looking at matters usually incidental to writers’ intentions but nonetheless echoing like a recurring theme through their arguments for reform.

The most significant document in Protestant reforms of the sacramental system was Martin Luther’s treatise The Babylonian Captivity of the Church, first published on October 6, 1520, in Latin. It had been foreshadowed by a series of three sermons on penance, baptism, and the eucharist the previous year. They are relatively mild teaching sermons. A more radical tone appears in A Treatise on the New Testament, That Is, the Holy Mass, written in June or early July of 1520 and published in July. Luther begins to attack various abuses such as misconceptions about the mass as sacrifice, masses for the dead, withholding the cup from the laity, and the words of institution said silently.⁹ By September, when he was writing The Babylonian Captivity, his thought had developed even farther.

The Babylonian Captivity stands as the most important single treatise shaping all Protestant sacramental life. It articulates concerns that are still intact among most Protestants. Though frequently not acknowledging the source, virtually all Protestant theologians reflect the treatise’s main points. It is not surprising that it was vigorously opposed by his Catholic contemporaries. The greatest irony is that Henry VIII of England attempted to refute it by a treatise, Assertio Septem Sacramentorum, for which he and his successors were given the title Defender of the Faith by Pope Leo X in 1521. Obviously, no one foresaw what faith that would be for Henry and all but two or three of his successors!

The very title, Babylonian Captivity, is a very unsubtle reference to the captivity of the Jews in Babylon in the sixth century B.C. But Luther probably knew that Petrarch had also used it to refer to the Avignon papacy during which fourteenth-century popes had moved to France and there were two or three rival popes simultaneously. The image is that the eucharist and the whole sacramental system (save baptism) had been held in bondage to grievous errors of doctrine and practice.

Our concern here is with the positive aspects of this document. Luther did not seek to abolish any of the sacraments although he certainly sought to reform them and