In this work, Nevin’s original text is preserved “while providing extensive introductions, annotations, and bibliography to orient the modern reader and facilitate further scholarship.” In a day when so many neglect sacramental theology, Nevin restores a Calvinian view of the Lord’s Supper, and provides a strong rebuke to the revivalism of the 19th century, and the undoing of this sacramental Reformational emphasis even in this century.
Peter Leithart writes about this book:
“Over a century ago, John Williamson Nevin planted an exotic seed in the ground of American Protestantism . . . [He] cultivated a high-church, liturgical and sacramental Protestantism that starkly contrasted with and sharply challenged the populist revivalism around him . . . By launching this excellent new edition of Nevin’s works, Brad Littlejohn and his colleagues give us hope that it is finally time for the dead seed to grow into a tree. May it bear much fruit.”
Many of us who practice weekly communion experience the immense joys and communal benefits of this practice. At the same time, I am aware that the vast majority of evangelicals–especially here in the South–view this practice with a certain skepticism rooted in romaphobia. Many modern evangelicals associate any order or structure with the Roman catholic pattern and worship. The reality, however, as I have demonstrated in many places (see brief exhortation as an example) is that weekly communion is a distinctly early church and Protestant practice.
Ryan Van Neste adds another argument for weekly communion when he writes:
Of course the longest discussion of the practice of the Lord’s Supper is in 1 Corinthians. Many issues can be raised here, but the fact that abuse of the Lord’s Supper was such a problem in Corinth strongly suggests the Supper was held frequently. Could it have been such a problem if it only occurred quarterly? Is this the sense that arises from the passage? Notice the wording of 1 Corinthians 11:20: “When you come together, it is not the Lord’s Supper that you eat.” It is widely agreed that the terminology “come together” here is used as a technical term for gathering as the church. This wording suggests that when they gathered they ate a meal which they intended to be the Lord’s Supper.[1] Though they are abusing the Supper, their practice (which is not considered odd by Paul) is to celebrate each time they gather. Even the wording in 1 Corinthians 11:25, “As often as you drink,” which is often used to suggest frequency is unimportant, in context actually suggests frequent celebration of the Lord’s Supper. Commenting on this verse, Gordon Fee notes, “This addition in particular implies a frequently repeated action, suggesting that from the beginning the Last Supper was for Christians not an annual Christian Passover, but a regularly repeated meal in ‘honor of the Lord,’ hence the Lord’s Supper.”
The argument is that if there is abuse of a particular practice in Corinth, then there must be a frequency of the practice for the abuse to become common. Paul’s approach was not to lessen the practice, but to do it well and orderly. The Corinthian abuse of the Lord’s Table implies the frequency of the practice in the Church. Thus, Paul wishes to instruct the Corinthians that when they meet to eat and drink together, they are to celebrate their oneness in love and in good works.
Is Covenant Theology merely theologizing, or are there practical implications to this doctrine? How does God deal with history, and how does he relate to his people? These and other questions are discussed in this series by Gregg Strawbridge. This eight-part series is free.
The Bible is a sacramental book. It is filled with strange occurrences to be sure; but it is also filled with the common. The Bible speaks about hair, love, axes, sickness, marriage, and wine. The Bible is anti-gnostic. And if you do not like Gnosticism you will love the Bible. The Bible brings together the miracle and the means; the divine and our dependence; the water and the wanderer.
The Bible is filled with holy images. The temple was holy; the city was holy; the sacrifices were holy; the body is holy. But images are just not accidental pictures, they represent a reality. Not a forthcoming reality, but a present reality. This is why what is happening here this morning is of such magnitude. When these four little ones are baptized, they taste that reality each and every day. Their baptisms guide, shape, and identify them. If you go to the Middle East and ask a Muslim to identify a Christian their response is to point you to one who has been baptized in the Name of the Triune God. Baptism is the universal language of cleansing. Naaman understood this when he finally followed the word of the Lord. The eunuch understood this when he responded to the Word of the Lord. We are baptized because this is how we are identified with our Lord. Baptism is our spiritual photograph and identity card. When someone asks you who you are, your response is: “I am a baptized Christian.”
In this covenantal sign these children are brought into the membership of Christ’s Church. They are bound by a sign to live faithfully all their days. And if they should—God-forbid—abandon this faith, we—as the church—have the duty to call them back to their baptismal commitment.
Children: to be baptized is to love Jesus sincerely; to honor him daily, and to follow him all your days. This promise is for you! Cherish, remember, and live it!
Eric and Lisa, God has blessed you with quadruple joy; but as you know, this also means quadruple responsibility. Our prayer is that the God who washes his people and who purifies them may refresh your energy daily to fulfill your calling. Train them up in the way that they should go and by God’s grace they will not depart from it.
As a minister in the CREC, I advocate the practice of paedocommunion. Paedocommunion means that baptized children of at least one Christian parent is able to participate in the holy feast of the Church, the Lord’s Supper. Many Protestants have come to understand this position, as many have seen the consistency and the historical basis of it. Yet, the Roman Catholic Church has largely–and I should add the majority of the Protestant Church–rejected paedocommunion. The central argument rests on a de-contextualized passage in I Corinthians. Aside from the arguments for infant communion–which have been made persuasively–the point here is that the Roman Church is bold to make their case. But the truth is Protestantism argue on the basis of a similar hermeneutic.
How does the Church act towards the mentally handicapped? the least of these? These questions are not mere exceptions. They are real. Paedocommunion is the biblical response to this.
Robert Capon once wrote that “Grace is the celebration of life, relentlessly hounding all the non-celebrants in the world.” Babette’s Feast is Robert Capon on screen. It is a delicious blend of humor and smells; sights and music. It is virtually impossible to contemplate the movie without considering its vastly religious and sacramental implications.
The 1987 movie is based on a short story by Isak Dinesen. The characters–two elderly maiden sisters–Martine and Philippa, continue the work of their deceased father, who was a prophet/pastor figure of a small Christian sect. After the death of their father, the two sisters immerse themselves in a life of charity while carrying their father’s work to a decreasing and dying number of followers. The two beautiful young women never married. Their father’s vision kept them from pursuing “worldly concerns.”
The entrance of two men into their lives offer a bit of adventure. Wendy McWright summarizes well the entrance and exit of the two characters:
First, Lorenz Lowenhielm, a dissolute young cadet, in summer exile at his aunt’s Jutland home as a result of parental punishment for unbecoming behavior, is captivated by Martine’s beauty, has an idealistic vision of a higher, purer life and wins an introduction to the pious circle where he hopes to make her acquaintance. But he soon finds himself at a loss in the rarified atmosphere and leaves, claiming that some things are impossible. The “world,” he announces, will be his heritage and he vows to achieve all worldly success, a feat which he duly accomplishes. Next, Achille Papin, a famous opera singer, finds himself on the remote coastland in search of rest. The solitude plunges him into a bleak mood which is relieved only upon hearing Philippa’s voice raised in angelic hymnody. Believing that her voice is destined to thrill the heart of Europe, Papin offers himself as vocal tutor and educates his pupil in the operatic repertoire. The frank sensuality of the musical lyrics soon convinces his pupil that she must terminate the lessons and Papin returns to the continent without her.
Years later, during the French Civil War, Papin sends them Babette. Babette has lost both husband and son and is now seeking refuge from war in the small island.
Babette’s work ethic and great culinary gifts bring a certain happiness and economic stability to the sisters. Babette’s role in the small community–especially among the few devout–is that of a peace-bringer. The remaining disciples cease to seek peace and the quarrels increase. Babette brings shalom to the community as she embraces a spirit-figure restoring and putting broken pieces together.
In order to reconcile and restore peace to the saints, the two sisters decide to offer a meal in celebration of her father’s one-hundredth birthday ( had he been alive). As the date draws near, Babette receives news that she has won 10,000 francs in the French lottery. The sisters are certain that Babette will now return to France and live off her new prize. Instead, Babette decides to use her lottery wins to prepare a feast of a lifetime for the hundredth birthday celebration.
Babette, the culinary artist, goes to France and returns with all the ingredients (living and dead). Unaware of the strange ingredients to the feast–turtles, live quail, and wine–the sisters and the disciples decide to make a vow that they will lose their sense of taste and smell during the feast.
As the guests pour in and as each course is served and each glass filled, the vow becomes harder and harder to fulfill. Each bite and each sip bring them new life and vitality, which begins to undo the bitterness and restore the small community. The quarrels are turned into joy and the memories are turned into frameable moments in their history.
The movie ends with a heavenly picture of the saints singing around a well. The well, the very biblical image of wars and wedding bells, become the symbol of joy and restoration, sins forgiven and relationships healed.
Babette’s Feast provides an image of the holy. The holy is not other-worldly, it is the entrance of the heavenly into the world. The feast becomes a celebration of life. Bread and wine are not merely earthly nourishment, but the relentless call of grace to those who are afar off. Come and taste the feast.
This past week–last Sunday of the Church Year–I offered a case for weekly communion. This is not an exhaustive treatment, since it is a sermon; but it covers some historical biblical thoughts concluding with a few applications on how we can better prepare to meet the Lord at His table. Here is the audio.
Peter Leithart begins his delightful Blessed are the Hungry by observing that “the Lord’s Supper is the world in miniature…within it we find clues to the meaning of all creation and all history, to the nature of God and the nature of man, to the mystery of the world, which is Christ.” If this is true–and I assume it is biblically and historically valid–then could the reason so much of evangelicalism despises the Church and confines this sacred feast to utter insignificance stem from the forsaking of this glorious mystery? As Mathison rightly concludes, “nature determines frequency.”
According to Mathison, Calvin believed that “baptism is connected with the believer’s initiation into mystical union with Christ. The Lord’s Supper is connected with the believer’s ongoing continuation in this union (19).”
In this work, Nevin’s original text is preserved “while providing extensive introductions, annotations, and bibliography to orient the modern reader and facilitate further scholarship.” In a day when so many neglect sacramental theology, Nevin restores a Calvinian view of the Lord’s Supper, and provides a strong rebuke to the revivalism of the 19th century, and the undoing of this sacramental Reformational emphasis even in this century.
Many of us who practice weekly communion experience the immense joys and communal benefits of this practice. At the same time, I am aware that the vast majority of evangelicals–especially here in the South–view this practice with a certain skepticism rooted in 
