It has never been the purpose of Anglicanism to establish its own doctrine. It is not easy to discover a specific, central teaching within it. Something like that would be also opposite to the idea that marked the beginning of the “Anglican way” – the idea of the continuation of Catholicism on the British Isles after necessary reformation. Anglicanism managed to maintain this catholic character, even if it isn’t hard to find moments in its history when it was virtually a step away from falling too far into particularism. Despite of this, it has undeniably become a separate tradition with its own specific character within Christianity, not only in regard to the liturgy or spirituality, but also theology. You can hardly talk about his Anglican specific character without referring to the doctrine some, not without (self)irony, called “the Anglican heresy”. It is the doctrine of Incarnation. A few days before Christmas begin we would like to devote a short series of articles. We start from a text by a good friend, Rev. Dr. Greg Neal, United Methodist minister from Texas and author of the excellent website Grace Incarnate Ministries. We would like to thank Pastor Greg for giving us permission to reproduce his text once again. Yet we cannot refrain from making a certain remark in regard to the last part of the article, which, by the way, we liked very much. It concerns the words “far from being mere symbols”, which refer to the elements of bread and wine in the Eucharist. We understand, of course, what Rev. Dr. Neal, who is an expert in Sacramental theology, wanted to express: the real presence of Jesus Christ in the Eucharistic elements in opposition to a “symbolic” presence, which was preached for instance by the Swiss reformer Ulrich Zwingli. Yet on the other hand we are certain that all depends here on how the word “symbol” is understood. If we use it in its narrow meaning, which, sadly, is common among many Protestant denominations, it is no more than logical to talk about a “mere symbol”. But if we refer to the Platonic term of a “real symbol”, what is symbolic not only wouldn’t be less real, but even more real. For in this approach a symbol is a bridge leading to the deeper reality. Perhaps surprisingly for some, it has lead a Polish Orthodox theologian, Fr. Jerzy Klinger, whose reflections we have already quoted on our blog several times, to conclude what follows:
It is known that the concept of symbol is widely used by the Orthodox church in regard to the Eucharistic elements (by Origen, St Maxim the Confessor, the term antitypa in the Liturgy of St Basil the Great) and that [this church] doesn’t also define so precisely where Christ’s real presence is localized … [it may] correspond to the idea of the real, yet heavenly presence of Christ in Calvin’s Eucharistic theology which is made possible by the Holy Spirit, like in the Orthodox epiclesis.
Klinger J., Problem interkomunii – punkt widzenia prawosławnego, in Klinger J., O istocie prawosławia, Warszawa 1983, p. 490.
Looking for something that could be a suitable illustration to Rev. Dr. Neals discour, besides an Advent wreath, we came across a recording of an Holy Communion he celebrated during Advent. We attached it below the text.
And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. (John 1:14 NRSV)
In Christian Theology the area of study dealing with the coming of God to be with us in Christ Jesus is known as Incarnational Theology. Theologians enjoy tossing around great big words that have very simple meanings, and this is one of those words. The verb incarnate is formed from the Latin roots in, meaning “into,” and carn, meaning “flesh.” In other words, it literally means to “in-flesh” something … to make something in the form of a human being. It also has the figurative meaning of “to put an abstract concept or idea into concrete form.” In Christian Theology it is the word used to describe the coming of Jesus to be one of us. As the Nicene Creed states:
For us and for our salvation
He came down from heaven,
was incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary
and became truly human. (No. 880 UMH)
The doctrine of the Incarnation states that Jesus of Nazareth, who walked the dusty roads of Galilee, taught in the Synagoge at Caperneum, cleansed the Temple of the money changers in Jerusalem, wept at the tomb of Lazarus, celebrated the Last Supper with his disciples in the Upper Room, and died on the cross for our sins … this same Jesus was also God, come to live with us and as one of us, in human flesh. As the opening sentences of John’s Gospel puts it: “the Word became flesh and lived among us.” Jesus is the eternal Word, the creative agency through whom the Father created all that is or ever shall be. And, as John also affirms, this Word of God was God.
Incarnational Theology teaches us that God has always revealed Himself to us through the “normal,” the physical, the temporal, the mundane things of this life. The created order has always contained within it a window into the agency and genious of its Creator; it has always been true that one can know about God by looking at what God has created. Likewise, God’s ultimate and eternal self-revelation for us is in and through the form of a man: Jesus of Nazareth. In this man we see not only ourselves as God calls us to be, but we also see God Himself. The only begotten Son of the Father didn’t stop being God in order to become human but, rather, took upon Himself our human nature, almost as if He were putting on a garment, and in so doing He purified our humanity and made it possible for us to become one with Him. As Charles Wesley’s wonderful Christmas hymn proclaims:
Veiled in flesh the Godhead see,
hail the incarnate Deity
Pleased as man with man to dwell
Jesus, our Emmanuel! (No. 240 UMH)
In the incarnation God veiled Himself in humanity, thus revealing his gracious, life-transforming nature to us. It also had the glorious side-effect of enabling us to interact with Him. Thanks to the veiling nature of the incarnation, the Disciples were able to be with the God-man, Jesus, without fear, to learn from him, to enjoy time with him, and to come to know God through him. We, too, have that same privilage; we, like the Disciples, have the joy of coming to know God in and through Jesus. This is a critical point within Incarnational Theology: all that we need for our salvation can be experienced in and through our relationship with Christ Jesus, our Lord.
There isn’t an element of Christian dogma that isn’t impacted by understanding that God was in Christ, reconciling the world to Himself. This is nowhere more evident than in the area of Sacramental Theology. The incarnational concept is so critical to the functioning of the means of grace that it is fair to say that they cannot be properly comprehended apart from it. To put this simply, every means of grace is incarnational. Apart from the real presence of God in Jesus Christ, each and every means of grace would be meaningless; but, because Jesus is truly the divine manifestation of God’s grace in our midst, each of the means is consequently a conduit for conveying that very grace of God to us. In other words, it is precisely because God became man in Jesus Christ that we can come to know God and receive God’s gifts of love and presence through such material instumentalities as the scriptures, prayer, worship, healing, Baptism, and Holy Communion. Jesus is the ultimate means of grace, the foundational conduit, the personal manifestation and supreme expression of the pure grace of God. Jesus, in and through His incarnation, is the Sacrament of all Sacraments. And, it is because of this that all the means of grace have meaning – from the Scriptures, which are the Word of God incarnate in the written form, to Holy Communion, which is the Word of God incarnate in the consecrated bread and wine – all the means of grace depend upon the incarnation of Jesus for their efficacy. Far from being mere symbols, or lifeless reminders of that which they signify, by virtue of conveying the real presence of Jesus each spiritually becomes that which each re-presents.
It is in this sense that Eucharistic Theology is also Incarnational Theology. In and through the Incarnation of God in Jesus Christ we, when we partake of the elements in the Holy Meal, are partaking of the very real, very divine, life transforming presence of God which became one with man in Jesus of Nazareth. God, incarnate in human flesh, becomes God typologically incarnate in bread and wine, so that we, when we partake in faith, might be sanctified into the very presence of Christ for others.