Yes, our blog was HijACKED so I have recreated it within the CEDS domain. It had existed elsewhere and you were simply redirected to it before now. So, in a way, this is a good thing. The new blog address is simply http://ceds.edu/door/
All seems to be working fine now but when you log on and try to post or comment, there may be difficulties. I doubt it but give it a try by commenting on this post.
When I get time I will fancy up the joint a bit.
Some days I just don’t feel like showing up for this job. I want to; I just don’t feel like it. Satisfying moments are few and far between and so briefly enjoyed. When I was a printer, though there were those grudging days when nothing seemed to get accomplished, I got to see the results of my work—stacks of paper and ink…and satisfied customers.
When I was a calligrapher, though the inked paper didn’t exactly pile up, the craft itself—not unlike printing—was satisfying. I saw the results of my work. There was a tactile nature to lettering and a delight in seeing a well-crafted serif or flourish appear. Then there was the privilege of hanging it on the wall (my own or another) and just having it there to appreciate over the years.
As a pastor, most days begrudge me of satisfaction. Where is the accomplishment? Where even the gauge of movement? Where is the stack of paper?
I desire do two things this morning. One is get my fingers in ink again. The other is find a way to make pastoring a craft that is tangible and satisfying. The first I may rediscover insofar as lettering and painting but probably not printing. Still, I keep having printing dreams; the last two nights especially. But it’s hard to imagine where I’d find the time and money to print again.
The second, discovering a pastoral craft, seems theologically implausible. This vocation is based on faith. The tangibles are distantly spaced over one’s life and so fleeting that the rewards of a pastorate are left to believing or hoping you’ve made an impression.
I can study and write and preach and teach and marry and bury and visit and counsel…and call it a craft or even approach it as a craft. (There is an idea worth exploring.) But where are the results? Where are the stacks of imprinted lives? I suspect I will never see the results in any lastingly gratifying way until my days are no more.
Until then, this grudging craft must be done in faith, days stacking up as leaves, no page quite the same as the previous, letting the Holy Spirit be the printer and I more the press.
Originally posted at “Theodidacti“
In response to the state of the Church at the time, and through close study of Scripture, Luther developed and focused on a theology of the cross. This became a filter for him through which he analyzed his opponents’ arguments, pastoral care, philosophy, reason and general thought. The theology of the cross, especially in direct opposition to a theology of glory, became central to his life and it would, in my opinion, be worth every Christian’s time to learn a little about this theology of the cross, and to spend some time analyzing life through those lenses. When one takes the time to look at glory contrasted with the cross, it makes one really contemplate what Christ did for us and how we as humans react to that. It forces us to examine ourselves and our relation to God, and to each other.
I spent some time thinking about the teachings of Luther, especially in regard to cross theology versus glory theology, and filtering different ideas and questions through both sets of filters. Often thoughts were sparked when someone asked me a question that arose from a perspective of glory, and my response was to apply the thought or question to a theology of the cross.
We are doing an ‘in-between” type of small group study at present, and while normally we study a book of the Bible, we are taking some time to do a workbook type of study. It is topical and deals with having a godly perspective in the way which one views oneself. It does sound much worse than it is, but it is, from what I have read thus far, pretty grounded theologically and does combat many glory-type outlooks. (i.e. Feeling good about one’s self because one has had certain success; met certain standards; accomplished certain goals and such.)
During discussion someone said something to the effect of; (speaking about God’s grace and His total forgiveness of us, entirely without any contribution from us) “It just seems too easy.” Because I have been locked into cross mode, my immediate response was that it was certainly not easy, nor cheap. When you look at the cross; really look at what went on there, you see how difficult it was and how horrible a price was paid for out justification. It definitely made the group recognize a glimpse of our ability to forget the cross, while we focus on the more glorious aspects of our walks.
This all too common outlook has problems on two sides, where the cross holds answers for those sides. The first is touched on in the comment above about justification coming too easily. That is in our struggle to be victorious we fail, and we fail, and we fail, and our security in Christ is chipped away with each failure. If justification by faith alone seems too easy to someone then on some level they really are susceptible to doubt creeping in. This is because if it seems too easy then from that perspective it probably is too easy, and on some level works will necessarily creep back into their justification. One must stare straight at the cross and recognize the absurdity of the cost, of the price that was paid in order to remove all doubt that salvation came too cheap or too easily.
The flip side is that we lose sight of the cross and begin to think we are doing pretty well. We begin to think we are defeating sin, while we are really just nurturing a different sin. C. S. Lewis discusses this concept with regard to pride, and likens it to fighting the hydra. Lewis beats the pride down that he feels when he imagines a student commenting on his superior intellect, and then heaps self congratulation upon himself for beating that pride. As he cuts down one head of the hydra, another appears.[1] This reminds me of the difficulties that Luther himself underwent while trying to live under a theology of glory; heading to confession and never able to fully confess, as sins crept in through and around the confessional time.
This glory and works focused outlook is rooted in the believer’s inability to take God at face value. In Romans chapter nine, Paul makes very clear what God thinks about our intentions, desires and wisdoms. Paul quotes from Exodus 33:19 when addressing the justice of God’s sovereignty; “And I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy.”[2] Paul goes on in verse 16, “It does not, therefore, depend on man’s desire or effort, but on God’s mercy.” Paul, in one verse, in one sentence, shatters the basic tenants of the theology of glory when he writes, “But who are you, O man, to talk back to God?” (Rom 9:20) How can the created being think to understand the desires of the creator, or how the creator works except for that which is directly revealed? Our revelation is Scripture and Scripture is centered on and rooted in the cross. Too look past the cross is to open oneself to gross assumption and to foolish speculation about God, and these are nothing on which to build a theology or a life.
Luther, in his Heidelberg Disputation makes this point by renouncing the theologian who looks around the cross to glory.
19. That person does not deserve to be called a theologian who looks upon the invisible things of God as though they were clearly perceptible in those things which have actually happened.
20. He deserves to be called a theologian, however, who comprehends the visible and manifest things of God seen through suffering and the cross.
21. A theologian of glory calls evil good and good evil. A theologian of the cross calls the thing what it actually is.
22. That wisdom which sees the invisible things of God in works as perceived by man is completely puffed up, blinded, and hardened.
“Puffed Up, Blinded and Hardened” might be a good book title for a work discussing the theology of glory. We are puffed up as we think ourselves able to apply reason and insight to see beyond that which God has chosen to reveal.[3] We are blinded[4] by the wisdom of this world, which declares God’s wisdom to be foolish.[5] The more we pat ourselves on the back, attribute our victories to God’s being pleased with our merit and with our works, the further we entrench ourselves in the puffed up blindness.[6] The more glory is taught and embraced, the more it becomes the norm and is embraced as truth.
This, I think, is why Luther was so virulent with his opposition. Luther did not want this theology of glory to become the norm as is man’s tendency. When one begins to actively look for markers of the theology of glory, one finds that it is quite prevalent in today’s churches. It is preached, believed and lived to the detriment of believers, leaving them theologically malnourished and unable to understand why. What is the role of the theologian of the cross in correcting this focus on glory and on works? Is it an apologetic work, one of pure preaching of the cross?[7] How do we get modern American Christians to take time and examine their theology? I do not have the answer at hand except to say, we do not. God is the one who will change the individuals’ hearts and minds; how he uses us to do that is the better question. I suspect it is a focused revamping of preaching toward that of “Christ crucified”[8], and through interactions between lay- theologians of the cross with those caught up in glory unawares.
Selected Bibliography
Lewis, C. S. Family Letters, 1905-1931. Vol. 1 of The Collected Letters of C.S. Lewis.
New York: HarperOne, 2004.
[2]All Scripture references are from the English Standard Version unless otherwise indicated.
[3]Toward the scorners he is scornful,
but to the humble he gives favor. (Prov 3:34)
[4]“And if the blind lead the blind, both will fall into a pit.” (Mat 15:14b)
[5]1 Cor 1-2
[6]Such teachings come through hypocritical liars, whose consciences have been seared as with a hot iron.
[7]Another question, which I do not have room to discuss in this essay would be, “How much is a theology of glory being preached throughout different cultures today?”
[8]Where is the wise man? Where is the scholar? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know him, God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe. Jews demand miraculous signs and Greeks look for wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than man’s wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man’s strength. (1 Cor 20-25)
Luther wants it to be perfectly clear, there is righteousness, and then there is righteousness. Perhaps even better stated, there are righteousnesses and there is righteousness. Luther is clear that we have many different ideas about righteousness, and they are valid in a temporal or fleshly sense, but there is a perfect righteousness that is absolute, and that while the others can attempt to mirror it, they cannot be true righteousness.
These two righteousnesses are labeled by Luther; one is “active righteousness”, the other “passive righteousness”. The labels reflect man’s involvement in the righteousness where man is active in “active righteousness” and man is passive in “passive righteousness”.
Active righteousness deals with the old man, still under law. Man attempting to adhere to the law is considered by Luther to be active righteousness. Active righteousness also contains ordinances of man. “There is a civil or political righteousness, which kings, princes of the world, magistrates and lawyers deal with. There is also a ceremonial righteousness, which the traditions of men teach.” In short active righteousness is the attempted adherence by man to rules and traditions set down by man, and those set down by God intended to show us our need for Him.
To be clear, Luther does not consider active righteousness to be bad, on the contrary he calls it, “the gift of God, like all other good things which we enjoy” but sets active righteousness as contrary to passive righteousness, or righteousness of faith. Passive righteousness is completely received, man plays no part, at all, whatsoever in the receipt of passive righteousness.
Luther states that “by the law comes the knowledge of sin” and points out that trying to clear our conscience by following the law, which intends to show us our sin, will fail. The law reveals man’s hopeless state, it makes him fear his unworth; but how great the goodness in contrast, when the law is removed from sight and replaced with grace.
I would be remiss if I did not point out that Luther is not talking about removing active righteousness completely from sight, because while here on earth there is active righteousness to be sought. While on earth man should be performing good works, but the focus is on the passive received righteousness. For the new man, born of a grace received from God there is no law and there is no sin – and so there is no fear, weighty conscience, or shame. That is the Spirit is freed from all such oppression even if the body, which is already condemned to death still struggles against such thoughts and feelings. There is a sense of ‘happening and yet already happened’, where Luther points out the certainty of things to come as being already complete. We are already condemned as for our earthly selves and bodies, but our spirits are already freed even while we await the completion of these in glorification.
Man can play no part in the receipt of this passive righteousness. Doing so is to lose sight of true justification by faith and grace alone, and moves into a justification occurring with our involvement. It must be completely passive on man’s part in order to stand up to God’s judgment, for nothing man can do is unpolluted, and one work by man cannot undo the other transgressions and so the conscience is wounded. “For whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become accountable for all of it.” (James 2:10) Man cannot do anything to earn justification as it is spoiled by his inability to fulfill the obligation of the law.
It is contrary to man’s wisdom to see it this way. How can we not be held to the law for our salvation? The Gospel does not seem truly possible to the wisdom of the world and so we must ever more diligently present and proclaim the truth of passive righteousness, lest people focus on the world’s wisdom and suffer the fear, doubt, and weight of conscience that comes with the world.
I am finding that this is, at least in part, what makes studying Martin Luther and his theology so interesting. Humor, tweaks at his opposition, pastoral application, clear precise theology, impeccable knowledge of Scripture, and the list goes straight on through the recording of some-what candid conversations.
It is difficult to get a sense of the pace of conversation, but I try to imagine the ebb and flow where Luther can pick such appropriate Scriptures out to help make his point. For instance when Dr. Jonas Justice quips about Scripture being so full of wisdom that man can never really fully study it or comprehend it, Luther points out 1 Peter 4:13a and brings up an excellent illustration, likening our rejoicing in suffering to a child pouring affection upon a switch with which he is beaten. For these type of responses to be delivered extemporaneously is quite impressive.
It is no surprise that Luther should be so familiar with Scriptures, after a life of study, translation, and of course defense of his interpretations. Scripture was the despot of Luther’s mind; inasmuch as he was able, he allowed his every thought and action to be ordered by Scripture. I was also impressed by his quick ability to create, or at least apply secular parables and fables. Luther spent time translating Aesop’s Fables and it seems to me, that Luther was quite Pauline in applying secular literature and culture to make clear sacred points.
I enjoyed the topical breakdown and see myself referring back to Table Talk for insight, color, or thought provoking statements. There are plenty of quotes that just make one stop and reflect. Whether one agrees, disagrees or finds oneself trying to understand what Luther was trying to convey, it would have been wonderful to have been present. (At least for those who understand German) I would love to have pushed him to explain statements like chapter CVI; “If Adam had remained in his innocence, and had not transgressed God’s command, yet had begotten children, he should not have lived and remained continually in that state in Paradise, but would have been taken into the everlasting glory of heaven, not through death, but through being translated into another life.” Table Talk contains plenty of thoughts like these to keep a diligent reader thinking for months.
Luther employs much use of contrast to make his points. He discusses the merits of astronomy against the ‘nothing’ of astrology. He discusses the misguided focus of lawyers as the preachers preach against them. Allegory against practical application and in many other places he builds his argument with contrast.
One can get a sense of Luther’s personality in Table Talk also. One attribute that stuck out to me in particular was his own sense of importance. I hesitate to call it pride in this case as Paul had a similar attitude, but Luther certainly regarded himself on a level similar to that of Augustine and almost that of Paul, the apostle. Quotes like, “I think with myself: now comes an alteration, for St Paul preached not above forty years, nor St Augustine; always, after forty years pure preaching of God’s Word, it has ceased, and great calamities have ensued thereupon.” (DCCXCII) compare himself and his preaching to that of the other great preachers. Certainly, it is merited, especially in comparison to Augustine on whose theology Luther built much of his own theology, but when one examines Luther’s life toward the end, and the bitter disputes he had with other reformers, one wonders if perhaps he did let pride stand in the way of possible unions.
Luther did much for the common man. I often hear him lauded for his connection to the common man; however he does seem to put himself above common people in Table Talk. When Katie complains about the servants, Luther agrees that good help is hard to find and that everyone complains about the servant class. (CLVI) He goes on to say of “this class of people”, “we must govern them, Turkish fashion, so much work, so much victuals, as Pharaoh dealt with the Israelites in Egypt.” Perhaps it is akin to us discussing the blue or white collar worker, or how to deal with the United Auto Workers Union, but is just rings with a bit of a disconnect to the common man.
Table Talk is such a wonderful work to have available. It provides much insight into all the other works we have by and about Martin Luther. I find myself wishing we had similar works for theologians like John Calvin and others who do not share so much about themselves as did Luther.
Luther The Reformer: The Story of the Man and his Career, by James M. Kittelson is an excellent read. Kittelson does a great job disseminating the events of Luther’s life, within context, while surmising the motivations of the characters involved based on well thought out reason, and study of writings of the characters involved.
I thought I knew a little about Luther, and I was proven correct; very little indeed. Having read certain of Luther’s writings, watching Luther, and doing a little casual study, all these would have been more productive had I read this book first. Luther’s life might best be divided into four parts: Childhood and early years; Post lightening storm – pre Wittenberg doctorate; 95 Thesis – Wartburg; Wartburg – Death. While not perfect lines in time, they do give a general break down of how Luther’s life seemed to progress.
Luther grew up relatively poor to strict, sincere parents. Luther’s father made many sacrifices and at the same time was hard on Luther as Hans desired better things for his son than he had for himself. Hans pushed Luther toward becoming a lawyer, and while Luther excelled in his severe studies, he wound up walking away from law to the reclusive monastic life.
On his way to Erfurt he was struck to the ground by a bolt of lightning. Then and there Luther swore to St. Anne that he would become a monk. Much to his father’s chagrin, Luther was upending Hans’ plans for Luther’s life. Luther’s stalwart dedication to his faith and vows left its mark on his body and health. Luther could see only Christ bearing the sword, and worked hard to make penance for his constant sin. This time was incredibly hard on Luther mentally also as he was realizing what salvation by works looked like, and finding that not even a small spark of good dwelt within him; it was hopeless for all good deeds were tainted on some level.
Luther took a stance of loyalty which landed him in trouble with his order and got him exiled to Wittenberg. Wittenberg was a rough town of little to ill repute, but did have a University where eventually Luther became a professor. While preparing lectures, Luther started realizing that works were not going to cut it and faith/grace alone was the only thing that will save a man. Even so he was fairly cautious and deferral to Rome, until the sale of plenary indulgences brought Johann Tetzel. This squat salesman-priest was raising incredible funds for the construction of St. Peter’s Basilica. The battle between the two emboldened Luther, who was more than a match for the little man with an honorary degree, and it entrenched Luther against practices of Rome.
The natural consequence of Rome doing something wrong leads to analysis of the authority of Rome. If Rome is wrong, what about specifically, the pope what about councils? Luther dug in on the point, Christ alone. After the Diet of Worms, where Luther refused to recant his writings he was abducted by sympathetic friends of his cause, and spirited off to Wartburg Castle. Rome wanted Luther dead and there was tremendous political pressure on Elector Frederick who had been protecting Luther while trying to appease Rome.
While in loose captivity, Luther had a lot of time to think and to write. He had learned Greek and Hebrew and had managed to grab his volumes in those languages before being dragged off to Wartburg. This is where Luther took on the task of translating the New Testament into common German.
Eventually Luther longed to return to Wittenberg and to see what was happening in his wake. He corrected some errors of the people by preaching Law that must come out of grace. He did however begin to sour toward any disagreement and became polarized.
Other reformers who had tremendous respect for Luther and who disagreed on certain texts (“This is my body”) were regarded by Luther as less than Christian. Men who agreed, as it turns out, on most everything except what the makeup is actually of the bread and wine of the Eucharist, were shunned by Luther rather than embraced for the common work they were doing.
This final, souring period was disappointing to discover about the man. But that’s just it; Luther was a man and God has always used weak mankind to show his strength. Perhaps had Luther remained deferent on some lesser points and managed to avoid many political situations there would have been a temptation to take his words as canon by some.
The simpler answer is probably just that he was a man who fought long and fought hard for change, and saw any disunity in the change as a greater danger as the Church would be broken apart further. In seeking to hold the Protestant Church together, he drove it further apart. Despite this turn toward the end, Luther remained dedicated as always to the gospel. Desperately quoting John 3:16, Luther’s heart gave out and he died.
It is difficult to summarize all I learned from reading this excellent commentary on Luther’s Heidelberg Disputation. This was my introduction to the disputation itself, as well as being my first reading Forde’s book. I look forward to rereading this book after completing other works by and about Martin Luther in order to have a better context for the issues Luther is addressing in the disputation.
On a surface level it was interesting to think about not only the two types of theologies in Luther’s estimation, but also and perhaps more interesting, the two types of theologians. The two theologians being the theologian of glory, and the theologian of the cross, each with their own likely named theology.
The theologian of glory is the one who seeks to look past the revealed suffering and sovereignty of God, instead seeking the hidden glories which are unlocked by good works. The theologian of the cross rejects this theology and views it akin to man trying to usurp God’s role in his attempts to understand God’s motives and hidden attributes. Moses exhibited traits of the theologian of glory when he asked to see God’s face. In answer, God allows him to see only the glory which follows behind. The theologian of the cross levels the accusation that the theologian of glory ignores the suffering of the cross when they attempt to look beyond it, and in so doing they reject God’s answer to Moses as the cross is the following trace of God’s glory which He has chosen to allow us to see. This presumption leads man astray and into mortal sin, despite its apparent desire for good.
The theologian of the cross on the other hand, looks plainly at what God has revealed. The horrible and ugly appearance of the cross is not to be shunned and rationalized by man, rather to be embraced and accepted. There is to be no effort to hide this suffering as this is God’s revelation, and accepting the cross alone is where salvation is found. Just as it is seen so often in Scripture, the wisdom of man is made foolish by God’s wisdom, and the appearance of ugliness in the sorrow of the cross is actually where the glory of God is revealed to man.
There is a bittersweet simplicity in being a theologian of the cross; sweet in its simplicity, and bitter in finding the sweetness submerged in sorrow. In recognizing that I put Christ on the cross, I can take the recognition in one of two directions. I can try to see the beauty that God has done for me, which I have chosen and perhaps even made myself ready for through meritorious works; or I can stare at what I have done and embrace the suffering, sharing in Christ’s death and presumed resurrection. The first focuses on man’s glory, the second on God’s sovereignty.
After one has received the working of the cross, only then do good works truly come from God’s good will; that is the works are good in actuality because they are part of His perfect will. Prior to the cross good works only blind the doer as they miss their own depravity, fooled by thinking they are in fact good and beyond the suffering of the cross. After one embraces the stark reality of the cross, good works flow over and out of the person in response. Works cannot save, works can only blind until the full picture of the cross is embraced.
There is much to be said about the specific issues which Luther is addressing. The philosophy of Aristotle, the overarching doctrine of the Catholic Church of the day, and other such contexts are ripe for exploration. I intend to reread this book once I have immersed myself deeper into the context of Martin Luther.
Michael Spenser has written an engaging, much needed article that needs a response from us.
The second paragraph under “Why is this going to happen?” point 1 is particularly compelling.
Being against gay marriage and being rhetorically pro-life will not make up for the fact that massive majorities of Evangelicals can’t articulate the Gospel with any coherence. We fell for the trap of believing in a cause more than a faith.
This paragraph points a finger at us…at pastors and professors. We need to change our long practice of merely training the pastorate and start training the church. That begins with training pastors not just what but how to disciple the church. But could we also change our approach and begin training the church itself?
We Evangelicals have failed to pass on to our young people an orthodox form of faith that can take root and survive the secular onslaught. Ironically, the billions of dollars we’ve spent on youth ministers, Christian music, publishing, and media has produced a culture of young Christians who know next to nothing about their own faith except how they feel about it. Our young people have deep beliefs about the culture war, but do not know why they should obey scripture, the essentials of theology, or the experience of spiritual discipline and community. Coming generations of Christians are going to be monumentally ignorant and unprepared for culture-wide pressures.
Any comments? Ideas?
The Septuagint
A Paper Submitted to Dr. Terry Eddinger
Carolina Evangelical Divinity School
In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirement for the Course
“Between the Testaments”
by Mark Ryman
December 2, 2008 
The world between the Jewish and Christian testaments had not turned out the way the Jewish people had thought. Instead of conquering the Promised Land of Canaan and influencing or even ruling the nations around them, they would end up being dominated by those very peoples. Eventually they were to be ruled by even more far away lands. Notably, they were subjugated by the Greeks and later the far-reaching Roman Empire.
As much as the Jewish people may have wandered from their God’s directive to “take possession of the land that the Lord your God is giving,”1 they did not stray from their religion. “The chastisement of the exile largely cured the Jews of the problem of idolatry. Although difficulties with syncretism (identification of the God of Israel with the Most High God of Hellenism) continued, the emphasis upon monotheism was one of the characteristics of Jewish belief.”2 However, they were in danger of drifting because their culture was being changed by their conquerors and perhaps most dramatically so by the loss of their language. “Language [has] …an impact on cultural and religious developments.”3 As Jewish people were assimilated by other cultures, particularly Greek and Roman, over a span of many generations Hebrew would of necessity become a secondary language. In order to work and conduct business. dispersed Jewish people would have to speak the language of that land. As generations passed the vernacular would become the primary language of their children, to the extent that their customary language—Hebrew—might fall into disuse and itself become a foreign or worse, a forgotten language. This shift of colloquial speech meant that they could lose more than Hebrew; they might also lose their identity as a religiously distinctive people. In order to resist total cultural shift it would have been necessary to find a method for their religious code—specifically the five books of Moses—to speak to those who no longer spoke the language of Moses.
The changing historical and political fortunes of the Israelite nation necessitated the translation of the Hebrew Bible into other languages. Several of these ancient versions are available in manuscript form and represent important witnesses to the Hebrew Old Testament. The more important include the Samaritan Pentateuch (the Bible of the Samaritans dating to the fourth or fifth century B.C.), the Aramaic Targums (pre-Christian paraphrases of the Old Testament in Aramaic, the lingua franca of the Babylonian and early Persian periods, cf. Neh. 8:8), the Greek Septuagint (a by-product of the impact of Hellenism on the Jewish people, ca. 250 B.C.), Jerome’s Latin Vulgate (A.D. 382-405), and the Syriac Pershitta (ca. A.D. 400?).4
As a result of the most recent “changing fortune” of Jewish people (the conquest of the Near East by Alexander the Great in 333 BCE.), the Jewish people found themselves dispersed across the wide empire that was Alexander’s. This diffusion of people was so prevalent that it became a noun, the Diaspora (or the Dispersion).5 James borrows the term in the introduction of his New Testament letter. “James, a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ, to the twelve tribes which are of the Dispersion, greeting.” (Jas 1:1)6 Peter also uses it in his greeting: “Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, to the elect sojourners of the Dispersion of Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia.” (1 Pet 1:1)7 John mentions the Diaspora in his gospel: “Therefore the Jews said among themselves, “Where does this man intend to go that we will not find Him? Does He intend to go into the Dispersion among the Greeks and teach the Greeks?” (John 7:35)8 These references to the Diaspora in the New Testament are additional witnesses to the Hellenization of first the Jewish community and then the Jewish-Christian community. The influence of Hellenism not only changed the location of Jewish people but the language of that displaced group (not to mention other people groups as well). This relocation over a broad geography effectively gave these Jews a new name. “The word diaspora…became the technical Greek term for Jewish communities in foreign lands.”9
Ptolemy I transported many Jews to Egypt, and Alexandria became a major center of the Jewish dispersion. The Jews in Egypt flourished during most of the Ptolemaic period, playing a not inconsiderable role in the political and economic life of the country and supplying a significant part in its military force. During the Ptolemaic period one of the most significant events in religious history was undertaken: the translation of the Old Testament into Greek.10
This Hellenizing influence on the Jewish people who were dispersed throughout the Mediterranean region of Alexander’s empire required them to speak Greek. “In Alexandria a knowledge of Greek was not a mere luxury but a necessity of common life.”11 If the Jewish Diaspora wanted to keep their Jewish religious identity, they would need to bring what made them Jewish (that very religion) into Greek culture. Without the ability to speak Hebrew, they were still Jews. Though no longer living in the land including and surrounding Judea, they were still Jews. Their physical characteristics did not make them Jews. The thing that made them a “peculiar people” (Deut 14:2)12 was that God set them apart and gave them a distinctive character. This uniquely Jewish culture was discovered primarily in their law called the Torah (as mentioned above, those first five books of the Old Testament that are attributed to Moses). Two questions must have come into the minds of the more religious but Hellenistic Jews in the Diaspora. How could they continue knowing their Jewish individuality if they could not read their law? And how could they read their law if the could no longer read Hebrew? The writings of Moses, as well as the rest of their Bible, were written in Hebrew. The texts had never been translated into any other language. When the Jewish people had been in Egyptian, Babylonian, and Assyrian exile, their law had never been translated into those culture’s languages (so far as we know today). But by the time of the Alexandrian Empire, with an acculturation so complete, the need was pressing. “Because as a rule the Jews of the Diaspora scattered throughout the Mediterranean no longer spoke Hebrew [and] they needed to translate their sacred writings into Greek.”13 This had never been done with the Hebrew Bible. In fact, the Septuagint was “the first translation of a sacred book into another language.”14 This also speaks plainly about the level of Hellenistic acculturation; no other subjugation of Jewish people had ever resulted in the need to translate their sacred writings. The reason for such a complete acculturation may have simply been the length of time the Greek empire lasted. The Egyptian captivity lasted 430 years (Exod 12:40) but the law had not yet been given to Moses; the distinctive nature of the Hebrew-speaking people was not yet defined. The Assyrian exile lasted an inconclusive span of time but Jerusalem did not fall, therefore the religion of the Hebrew Bible persisted. The Babylonian exile lasted about 50 years, hardly enough time to lose a culture. But the empire of the Greeks lasted a quarter of a millennium—by conservative standards, over six generations—and that was plenty of time for a people to lose their distinctiveness, especially given that the Greek Empire was followed by the Roman Empire and that lasted an additional half-millennium.
Fear of losing their Jewish roots being the reason behind the translation seems clear enough but another explanation was tendered. The Letter of Aristeas (part of the Old Testament pseudepigrapha) describes
…how the Jewish Torah was first translated from Hebrew into Greek for the great library of the Egyptian king Ptolemy Philadelphius (285-247 B.C.E.) in Alexandria… According to the author of the letter, the king’s librarian requested the high priest of the temple in Jerusalem to send translators with the Hebrew scrolls to Alexandria. The high priest complied, sending six men from each of the twelve tribes of Israel, that is seventy-two translators…
The translators were escorted to an island called Pharos, connected by a causeway to Alexandria. Working there for seventy-two days, they produced the first Greek translation of the Pentateuch. When the translation was complete, it was read to an assembly of the Jews in Alexandria, who enthusiastically received it and gave the translators a great ovation.15
This story within the larger letter has a legendary quality to it, something more like a propaganda program to get Jewish people to accept the work. The Letter of Aristeas may simply be one of history’s great advertisements. The letter was written “to defend Judaism in general and the Greek version in particular. During the conflict in Judaism over Hellenization, some Jews embraced the Greek language and culture while others resisted such acculturation on religious principle.”16 Aristeas was written about a century after the Greek Pentateuch had been produced. Therefore much of the rest of the Old Testament had by then been translated (It took two to three centuries for the entire Old Testament to be translated.17) but then so would have other Greek translations, as we shall see shortly. Perhaps Aristeas was written not only to promote a Greek translation but to endorse the Septuagint over rival Greek translations. But it speaks of a good deal more, all of which paints the empire as favorable to and for Jews. Indeed, the entirety of Aristeas “serves not only to commend the Septuagint as the official translation but also to commend more liberal Hellenistic Judaism.”18
Josephus affirms the Aristeas account without equivocation and Philo goes a giant step further and “makes the translation an act of divine inspiration” as he has the 72 translators working in separate cells and later emerging with a single, identical translation.19 The Early Church Fathers seem to have bought in to the Aristeas legend but Swete notes that Jerome was an “exception.” Jerome states that Philo’s additional account of the separate cells is an “absurdity.”20 The entire, early testimony indicates The Letter of Aristeas may be a mixture of propaganda, legend, and truth with the truth not being in its depiction of who did the translation. Swete insists the Old Greek “was on the whole the work of Alexandrian Jews”21 and leaves it at that, save to discredit Aristeas. Modern scholars agree as no book cited here agrees with Josephus or Philo on the details of translation, Swete however, being most condemning. Yet from the disputed tale of the seventy-two translators of the Aristeas story a title was derived for the historic translation, using septuaginta, from the Latin for seventy(-two), thus often shortened and abbreviated as the Roman LXX.”22 However the Septuagint came to be, it was the first Greek translation of Hebrew Scriptures. But the Septuagint was not the only Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible in the empire.
There were seven early Greek translations. It is currently debated whether Greek translations called Aquila, Symmachus, and Theodotian are original translations from the Hebrew or corrected, subsequent editions of the Septuagint. The Septuagint is therefore sometimes referred to as the “Old Greek” since it was the first of these early translations. Perhaps Aquila, Symmachus, and Theodotian were even competing with the Septuagint for a place as the dominant Greek translation (giving rise to an Aristeas advertising campaign). These, as well as later recensions of the Old Greek (varieties known as the Hesychian text in Egypt, the Hexaplaric of Origen in Palestine, and the Lucianic from Constantinople to Antioch)23 show how much the Greek culture, particularly its language, had affected Judaism. The recensions may indicate that if Aquila, Symmachus, and Theodotian were indeed competitors that the Septuagint had won the day since these further editions were of the Septuagint instead of the other three translations. Regardless, there was obviously a great need to provide, first the Jewish law, then the entire Old Testament, and finally other writings for so-called Jewish-Christians in the lingua franca of that time: Greek.
The Alexandrian Jews were certainly influenced by Hellenism (at least by their displacement from Jewish culture if not for a call from an Alexandrian library) to create the first translation of a sacred text, the Septuagint. Later, Jesus, the Apostles, and the Church were not so much influenced by Hellenism as they were by the Septuagint—though one does go with the other. “Modern Christians” might assume “that the original Hebrew is the inspired text of the Old Testament, but this fact was not so obvious to the early church, which, following Alexandrian Jewish tradition, seems to have accepted the Septuagint as equally inspired.”24 “The Christian Churches of Greek-speaking countries throughout the Empire read the Old Testament in the Alexandrian version.”25 In fact, the eventually more Hellenistic than Jewish Christian Church had so appropriated the Septuagint that the Aramaic Targums “may have been designed to replace the Septuagint”26 for Jews wanting to distance themselves from a now Christian document.
Where the Jews now rejected their own document, the Christians embraced it. It was the Bible of Jesus and the Apostles; they quoted it extensively. As a result, one might argue that the Greek translation may be inspired on the same level as the Hebrew text. After all, Jesus sometimes quoted the Septuagint. In other words, he did not, as would be done with a Targum, simply translate or interpret the Hebrew Bible—though he sometimes did this too. Instead, he often directly quoted the Septuagint. The Apostles also quoted it and they did so very often. This more than suggests—it implies an acceptance of the Septuagint by both Jesus and his disciples, so it is no wonder that the early Church adopted it as their scripture.
The putting of Hebrew religious ideas into the Greek language was an important transitional step that prepared the way for Christian preaching. Moreover, most of the New Testament citations of the Old Testament follow the Septuagint. The Bible of the early church, except for some Jewish believers and a few scholars, was the Greek Old Testament.The Septuagint was the most important literary event, perhaps the most important single development of any kind in the Hellenistic period, for the development of early Christianity.27
The Septuagint and its koine Greek, that common Greek spoken in Alexandria, had become so highly regarded (and so different from classical Greek) that for awhile it was regarded as “’Holy Spirit Greek,’ a form of the language specially inspired by the Holy Spirit for purposes of revelation.”28 This conviction eventually changed but it points out just how much, not only the Septuagint but, the Greek language itself meant to the early Church. This indicates a quite profound effect that Hellenism had on Christianity and continues to have to this day. Lay persons are often transfixed by a preacher’s “ability” to throw out some Greek in the midst of a sermon or Bible study. The same amazement is true of the use of Hebrew in these arenas but if the modern Church knew just how much the Greek Septuagint was the language of the New Testament, more awe could be the result even in Old Testament studies.
Hebrew had been the official language of Judaism for millennia. The Jewish insistence on having their own way instead of following God’s statutes and commands had led to them being chased by enemies instead of doing the chasing as promised in Leviticus 26:3-7 and elsewhere.
If you walk in my statutes and observe my commandments and do them, then I will give you your rains in their season, and the land shall yield its increase, and the trees of the field shall yield their fruit. Your threshing shall last to the time of the grape harvest, and the grape harvest shall last to the time for sowing. And you shall eat your bread to the full and dwell in your land securely. I will give peace in the land, and you shall lie down, and none shall make you afraid. And I will remove harmful beasts from the land, and the sword shall not go through your land. You shall chase your enemies, and they shall fall before you by the sword.29
The irony is that in not observing the law, they lost not only their lands and security and peace, but their language. In order to maintain a measure of the old faith, they had to do something that had never been done: translate their sacred text into the dominant culture’s language. Once done, that translation was revered until the text and its language was then chased down by yet another culture: the Church. The effect was that the cherished document, one of the most significant things of all religious history,30 was abandoned.
The Christian Church however built on the Jewish foundation of the Septuagint. “The New Testament has been much influenced by the Septuagint”31 but so was “the earliest of the non-canonical Christian writings, the letter addressed c. A.D. 96 by the Church of Rome to the Church of Corinth, abounds in quotations from the O.T.; and more than half of these are given substantially in the words of the LXX.”32 Moreover, Clement, Justin, and other early Christian writers such as the author of the Epistle of Barnabus also relied on the Septuagint for their claims to scriptural authority.33
The Septuagint, not the Hebrew Bible, was the primary theological and literary context within which writers of the New Testament and most early Christians worked. This does not mean that the New Testament writers were ignorant of the Hebrew Bible or that they did not use it. But since the New Testament authors were writing in Greek, they would naturally quote, allude to, and otherwise use the Greek version of the Hebrew Bible.34
It was however the Septuagint which Jesus and the Apostles quoted, not the other early Greek translations already mentioned.
As time passed, other early Christian writers (Shepherd of Hermes, Ignatius of Antioch, Polycarp of Smyrna) began to pull away from appeals to the Septuagint. This however was not because the Church had lost respect for the Old Greek. They still quoted the Septuagint but by now were able to cite the New Testament and other Christian writings.
By the time Jerome translated the Bible into Latin, now the language of the most recent rulers—the Roman Empire—the Septuagint was still exerting its influence. For the Church of the first few centuries, the Septuagint was still “the standard form of the Old Testament.” By standard, one should understand that it was canonical to many clerics. In case there is any doubt of the veracity of this statement, even “Augustine demanded that Jerome use this canonical form of the text and not the Hebrew original as the basis for his translation.”35 By this one sees that the influence of the Septuagint remained strong from the translation of the Pentateuch in the early- to mid-third century B.C. until beyond Jerome’s Vulgate of AD 384.
The half-millennium old Judeo-Hellenistic-Christian influence of the Septuagint should not be forgotten any more than the Hebrew text it was based upon. A New Testament professor once advised his students to sell all of their commentaries and buy a copy of the Septuagint. In it, he knew his students had the best chance of understanding the “grammar, vocabulary, and thought-world of the New Testament…already made by Greek-speaking Jews.”36 There is perhaps no better way to stay true to the statutes and commandments of God and to defend against further theological drift than to rely upon the Old Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible that the Christian Bible depends upon.
End Notes
1. The Holy Bible. English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Good News, 2001), Joshua 1:15.
2. Everett Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 538.
3. Ibid., 135.
4. Andrew E. Hill and John H. Walton, A Survey of the Old Testament (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2000), 387-388.
5. Karen H. Jobes and Moisés Silva, Invitation to the Septuagint (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2000), 20.
6. The Holy Bible, The American Standard Version (Camden: Nelson, 1901), 245.
7. Paul W. Esposito, The Complete Apostles’ Bible (LaVergne: Lightning Source, 2007). This is a new English translation of the LXX that I have in an electronic version. Therefore I have no page numbers to provide.
8. Ibid.
9. H. B. Swete, An Introduction to the Old Testament in Greek (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1989), 2.
10. Everett Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 404.
11. H. B. Swete, An Introduction to the Old Testament in Greek (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1989), 8.
12. The Holy Bible, King James Version, a reprint of the edition of 1611, (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2005), no pagination.
13. Karen H. Jobes and Moisés Silva, Invitation to the Septuagint (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2000), 20.
14. Everett Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 436.
15. Karen H. Jobes and Moisés Silva, Invitation to the Septuagint (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2000), 33-24.
16. Ibid., 34.
17. Ibid., 30.
18. Everett Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 451.
19. Ernst Würthwein, The Text of the Old Testament. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1995), 51.
20. H. B. Swete, An Introduction to the Old Testament in Greek (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1989), 14.
21. Ibid., 9.
22. Everett Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 432.
23. Karen H. Jobes and Moisés Silva, Invitation to the Septuagint (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2000), 46-56.
24. Philip S. Alexander, “Hellenism and Hellenization as Problematic Historiographical Categories.” Troels Engberg-Pedersen, ed. Paul Beyond the Judaism/Hellenism Divide, (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2001), 64.
25. H. B. Swete, An Introduction to the Old Testament in Greek (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1989), 87.
26. Everett Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 437.
27. Ibid., 436. 28. Ibid., 136.
29. The Holy Bible, English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Good News, 2001).
30. Everett Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 436.
31. Ibid., 136.
32. H. B. Swete, An Introduction to the Old Testament in Greek (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1989), 406.
33. Ibid., 406-432.
34. Karen H. Jobes and Moisés Silva, Invitation to the Septuagint (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2000), 23.
35. Ernst Würthwein, The Text of the Old Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1995), 50.
36. Ibid., 434-435.
Bibliography
Alexander , Philip S. “Hellenism and Hellenization as Problematic Historiographical Categories.” Troels Engberg-Pedersen, ed. Paul Beyond the Judaism/Hellenism Divide. Louisville, Westminster John Knox, 2001. Esposito, Paul W. The Complete Apostles’ Bible. LaVergne: Lightning Source, 2007. Ferguson, Everett. Backgrounds of Early Christianity. Eerdmans: Grand Rapids, 2003. Griffin, Winn. God’s Epic Adventure: Changing Our Culture by the Story We Live and Tell. Los Angeles: Harmon Press, 2007. Gruen, Erich S. Heritage and Hellenism: the Reinvention of Jewish Tradition. Berkeley: University of California, 1998. Hill, Andrew E. and John H. Walton. A Survey of the Old Testament. Zondervan: Grand Rapids, 2000. Horsley, Richard A. Scribes, Visionaries, and the Politics of Second Temple Judea. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2007. Jobes, Karen H. and Moisés Silva. Invitation to the Septuagint. Baker Academic: Grand Rapids, 2000. Stegemann, Hartmut. The Library of Qumran: On the Essenes, Qumran, John the Baptist, and Jesus. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998. Swete, H. B. An Introduction to the Old Testament in Greek. Peabody: Hendrickson, 1989. Würthwein, Ernst. The Text of the Old Testament. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1995. English Standard Version. Wheaton: Good News, 2001. The Holy Bible. The American Standard Version. Camden: Nelson, 1901. The Holy Bible. King James Version, a reprint of the edition of 1611. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2005.
What is Communion’s place in the church? For the reforming movement this was a question with doubtless importance that needed to be answered. Martin Luther’s convictions here unmistakably made a contribution that forever affected Protestantism. Yet his thoughts on this matter, as well as all his work, did not come about in a vacuum. In order to appreciate Luther’s view one must consider the context. When doing so it essential to not simply see it against the backdrop of the Catholic church. Luther over time felt that he disagreed with the radical reformers even more on this issue. So to properly understand Luther’s view of Communion, consideration must be made of his main opponents’ view. It is the purpose of this paper to come examine both Luther and Ulrich Zwingli’s conception of Communion in order to better understand Luther in particular. Luther and Zwingli had radically different views on the meaning of Communion, which continue to influence the beliefs of people today. Their debate centered on the meaning of the bread and the wine, and that is the debate this paper will explore.
Martin Luther’s doctrine of the Lord’s Supper was built on his strong belief in the Word of God. He could not reconcile the practices of the church, especially in the Mass and the Sacraments, with Scripture. He began to question everything in light of Scripture. As Luther moved deeper into his study, the scriptures strongly impacted his view of the Lord’s Supper. His study of scripture led to his conviction of faith alone in regards to justification, and also changed his understanding of the Sacraments. His newly gained appreciation for the Word would alter his Catholic view of the sacrament and lead him into conflict with other reformers as well.
To understand Luther’s view of Communion and its impact on the Roman Catholic Church and the Reformation, one must understand that the act of Communion was central to the religious belief system of the day. The mass was believed to be a repetition of the Incarnation and the Crucifixion. In the bread and the wine God again becomes flesh and Christ dies upon the altar. Priests were the only ones who could administer the sacraments, so they had tremendous power and were charged with overseeing the body of Christ. As the re-enactment of the crucifixion took place, they administered the crucified body of Christ to participants during the Mass. Luther’s convictions of faith alone led him to question every Catholic tradition or doctrine not supported by Scripture. Transubstantiation was one of these traditional beliefs that had no scriptural basis.
Luther’s goal was not to undermine the priest or the church. He simply wanted people to experience the reality of the Sacrament and the presence of the living Lord. He desired to get rid of the excesses of the Mass and to allow the reality of Christ to be shared by all. Luther saw communion as a celebration of community that would draw believers unto Christ and to each other by means of faith. In regard to faith and the Lord’s Supper, “I may be wrong on indulgences,” declared Luther, “but as to the need for faith in the sacraments I will die before I will recant.” His rejection of transubstantiation was complete and unequivocal.
Although the Lord’s Supper was for the community of believers, he saw it also as an intense personal meeting between the individual and God. The experience of communing with God did not come through intervention or administration by a priest. It happened in the heart of the individual. Luther asked, “Who can accept or apply for another the promise of God which requires the faith of each individually?” For Luther, only Christ could lead man to truly experience God. The Catholic priest had no power to do this.
It is wrong to assume that Luther’s rejection of Catholic Church doctrines meant he ignored Christ in the sacrament. Once convinced that the New Testament taught the “real presence” of Christ in the Lord’s Supper, Luther began to state his view, as simply, “This is my Body.” For Luther, Communion is not in the hands of the priest but in the words and body of Christ and one’s own faith. He rejected the doctrine of Transubstantiation, which taught that as the priest spoke, the bread and the wine became the body and blood of Christ. “God has chosen to declare himself unto mankind at three loci of revelation. The first is Christ, in whom the Word is made flesh. The second is Scripture, where the Word uttered is recorded. The third is the sacrament, in which the Word is manifest in food and drink.”
“This is my body” framed the context for Martin Luther’s belief about the Lord’s Supper and over which many debates would occur. Luther said, “How Christ is brought into the bread I do not know. But I know full well that the Word of God cannot lie, and it says that the body and blood of Christ are in the sacrament.” Luther fervently believed that Christ was in, with, and around the elements, but the bread and wine were still bread and wine. The bread and wine were not “turned into” the body of Jesus, like a magic trick, by the words of the priest. When Jesus said, “This is my body,” Luther believed Jesus meant that the bread and wine would contain the essence of Christ. Thus, the bread was seen as both bread and the body of Jesus that was manifested in it. It was not bread that was no longer bread because it had been changed into the body of Jesus; nevertheless, Christ was present in it.
Unlike Zwingli, he believed in the literal meaning of the word “is” and would not yield regardless of the argument brought before him. Luther believed in the “real presence” of the living Christ or the “unity of the sacrament.” He used these terms to argue that Christ is in, with and around the elements. Consequently, during Communion the believer receives Christ’s body and blood, given for his or her sins.
Zwingli’s education was largely affected by humanism and the teaching of Erasmus. Erasmus called for the spiritual understanding of Christianity and salvation. For Zwingli, revelation could never contradict reason. He understood God as the first cause that underlies all reality. He believed that God, as truth, sheds light on human darkness. This meant that the Spirit is more important to understanding the Word than the letter. The Spirit, Zwingli believed, could and does make direct contact with the soul of the believer and reveals the true meaning of the Word. This differed from Luther’s view that God was forever a mystery hidden from man and the Word of God always came as something that contradicted reason and rationality.
Just like Luther he no longer accepted the Catholic view that the bread and the wine become the body of Christ at the words of the priest, and yet he still believed in the Real Presence–but not the Presence that Luther taught. Zwingli’s theology of the Lord’s Supper is in one way rather simple. He believed that in Communion “the individual receives only bread and wine, but that by reflecting on the Lord’s death the individual received a spiritual blessing from this symbolical eating and drinking.”
If Luther’s favorite words were, “This is my body,” then Zwingli’s favorite words were from John 6:63, “It is the spirit that matters, the flesh is of no avail.” It has been said of Zwingli that he believed in the “Real Absence.” Christ was not literally in the bread and wine. Christ was present but in the heart of the believer and not actually in the bread and the wine. He believed that Christ was in heaven seated at the right hand of the Father and as the person took the sacraments, Christ entered the soul of the believer. How Christ does this Zwingli did not explain.
Zwingli interpreted the elements of the sacrament in a symbolic or figurative sense, as a memorial to the work of Christ—rather than as a literal reenactment of the crucifixion, as the Catholic Church claimed. For him, the word “is’ in the statement “This is my body,” meant represents or signifies. In other words, “This is my body” could be rendered, “This represents my body,” or “This signifies my body.” Here Zwingli did not think this passage was meant to be taken literally. Yet he believed that practices not contained in the Scriptures were to be shunned, and practices that were found there were to be adhered to absolutely and uncritically. Zwingli said a figurative understanding was necessary in the case of the Eucharist. To interpret “This is my body” literally, one had to accept the absurdity that bodily eating could have a spiritual effect. He pointed out that spirit can only be affected by Spirit. Because Communion was so central to worship at that time, a collision between the two men was inevitable. Indeed, conflict between Luther and Zwingli was to come.
It is clear that both Luther and Zwingli believed that Christ is intimately involved whenever a person receives the elements of Communion. The issues were exactly how Christ is involved, how far, and in what manner. The two men sought answers and definitions that sparked and fueled debate for years. Both men felt they were right in their interpretation of the Lord’s Supper, and the other wrong. But to be wrong on this issue meant that the other was teaching heresy and therefore was an enemy. Deeply convinced of his own understanding of the Lord’s Supper, Zwingli believed that Luther had relapsed into accepting an adapted form of Transubstantiation. For his part, Luther replied, “That these words, ‘This is my body,’ will stand against the enthusiasts.” He did not see how one could say that it was not meant to be taken literally, and argued that John 6:63 did not apply to communion.
Inevitably, war broke out between Zwingli and Luther. Zwingli opened the battle with his article called “Sermon on the Sacrament.” He criticized almost everything Luther wrote on the subject of the Lord’s Supper. Deeply convinced that his understanding was the only way to see the Eucharist, he appealed for Luther to agree with him. But the agreement had to be on his terms, according to his understanding. Luther did not. To the Stasbourgers he wrote:
I shall hold all those who contend that the body is not present to be outside the faith. At the moment I do not intend to write against Zwingli or Oecolampadius…I know they think that I do not wish to yield because of shame. They are certainly mistaken. For there is God’s Word from which I know the conquering argument. I have already preached God’s Word six years, with what fruit is manifest I think. And they say that I too am a man. I confess that I am a man and but a single man, but I shall not yield scripture so easily. They boast at length of having sought God’s glory. Have I sought or do I seek mine? God is my witness that I have not.
Luther went so far as to claim that because of his belief, Zwingli could not possibly know Christ.
The argument grew over the years through sermon, letters, pamphlets and treatises. Three sermons emerged. The first by Luther was called, “The Sacrament of the Body and Blood of Christ – Against the Fanatics.” Zwingli responded with, “A Friendly Rejoinder and Rebuttal to the Sermon of the Eminent Martin Luther Against the Fanatics” and Luther responded with, “That These Words of Christ ‘This Is My Body,’ Etc., Still Stand firm against the Fanatics.”
The lines of division were clearly drawn. Ulrich Zwingli and his followers stood on one side and on the other stood Martin Luther and his followers. The tone of their writing became more and more abusive, with more and more charges of heresy. If the Protestant church was to be a universal church as Luther envisioned, a church to replace the old one, the movement had to be unified. It was time for the two men to come together and discuss their views.
Philip of Hesse sponsored the famous confrontation of Luther and Zwingli at his castle in Marburg. The reason for the meeting was more political than religious, because Switzerland and Germany needed to be united in their Reformation efforts. They were just two small Protestant countries surrounded by Roman Catholic countries on all sides. Division over a major doctrinal issue like the meaning of the Eucharist made political unification all the more difficult. The colloquy at Marburg provided an opportunity for the issue of the Eucharist to be hashed out and settled
Luther had been opposed to the whole idea for many reasons. He saw Satan in the whole project and believed that if there were to be an alliance, then God would provide one without man’s help. And yet, despite his misgivings Luther agreed to the meeting. He did not want it to look as though He were standing in the way of unification. This would be Martin Luther’s and Ulrich Zwingli’s first and only face-to- face meeting. Both came to the debate determined to change the other and unwilling to compromise on the issue, and it was here that Luther took a piece of chalk and wrote on the table, “This is my body” and challenged them to prove that Christ was not present.
Luther and Zwingli exchanged heated words concerning John 6:63. Discussions continued without any real breakthrough concerning the Lord’s Supper. Both Luther and Zwingli had held steadfastly to their beliefs, each believing with all his heart that he was right and the other was wrong.
Surely, the controversy about the Lord’s Supper was inevitable. Zwingli’s humanistic leaning caused him to interpret what Jesus said as symbolic or figurative. In this kind of interpretation, any passage not clear to human reason is interpreted to harmonize with human understanding. Because literal acceptance of “This is my body” would have meant ignoring an obvious absurdity, he interpreted it symbolically. In his view, further enlightenment could occur later as a result. On the other side was Luther who firmly believed in “the Real Presence” and in “Sola Scriptura” and was not willing to concede any point that was not based solely and literally on the Word. The conflict between the men’s way of thinking was unavoidable.
For all the debate and struggle, their battles over the Eucharist brought deeper thoughts and clearer understanding of its meaning. They forged definitions through debate. They clarified for followers what exactly the Lord’s Supper gave to believers, and regardless of whose view one lean towards, we are in debt to both.