NO doctrine, perhaps, has done so much to cause disunion in the Church
as the doctrine of Communion enshrined in the Lord's Supper. A feast of
love in idea, it has been pre-eminently a feast of hate in reality,
and the fiercest contests have been waged over this "last legacy of
the Redeemer." Down to the time of the Reformation it was the central
service of the Church universal, Eastern and Western alike: it was the
Liturgy, distinguished from every-other office by this distinctive name.
Round this rite revolved the whole of the other services, as week-days
around the Lord's Day; on its due performance was lavished everything of
beauty and of splendour that wealth could bring; sweetest incense, most
harmonious music, richest vestments, rarely jewelled vessels, pomp of
procession, stateliness of ceremony, all brought their glory and their
beauty to render magnificent the reception of the present God. Among the
Reformed Churches the festival was shorn of its grandeur; it became once
more the simple "supper of the Lord," no memorial sacrifice, but only a
commemorative rite; no coming of the Lord to men, but only a sign of
the union through faith of the believer with the Saviour. At the present
time the old contest rages, even within the bosom of the Reformed
Church of England; one party still clings to the elder belief of a
real presence of Christ in the elements themselves, or in indissoluble
connection with them, and, therefore, celebrates the service with much
of the ancient pomp; while the other furiously rejects this so-called
idolatry, and makes the service as bare and as simple as possible.
Both parties can claim parts of the Communion Office as upholding
their special views, for the English service has passed through much of
tinkering from High and Low, and retains the marks of the alterations
that have been made by each.
To those outside the Church this office has particular attraction, as
being, in a special manner, a link between the past and the present, and
being full of traces of the ancient religion of the world, that catholic
sun-worship of which Christianity is a modernised revival. From the
Nicene Creed, in which Jesus is described as "God of God, Light of
Light, very God of very God, Begotten not made, Being of one substance
with the Father, By whom all things were made"--from this point we
breathe the full atmosphere of the elder world, and find ourselves
engaged in the worship of that Light of Light, who, being the image of
the invisible God, the first-born of every creature, has for ages and
ages been adored as incarnate in Mithra, in Christna, in Osiris, in
Christ. We give thanks for "the redemption of the world by the death and
passion of 'the Sun-Saviour, who suffered on the Cross for us,' who lay
in darkness and in the shadow of death;" we praise Him who fills heaven
and earth with His glory, and who rose as "the Paschal Lamb," and has
"taken away the sin of the world," bearing away in the sign of the Lamb
the darkness and dreariness of the winter; we remember the Holy Ghost,
the fresh spring wind, who, "as it had been a mighty wind," came to
bring us "out of darkness" into "the clear light" of the sun; then we
see the priest, with his face turned to the sun-rising, take the bread
and wine, the symbols of the God, and bless them for the food of men,
these symbols being changed into the very substance of the deity, for
are they not, in very truth, of him alone? "How naturally does the
eternal work of the sun, daily renewed, express itself in such lines as
'Into bread his heat is turned,
Into generous wine his light.'
And imagining the sun as a person, the change to 'flesh' and 'blood'
becomes inevitable; while the fact that the solar forces are actually
changed into food, without forfeiting their solar character, finds
expression in the doctrines of transubstantiation and the real
presence." ("Keys of the Creeds," page 91.) After this union with the
Deity, by partaking of his very self, we praise once more the "Lamb of
God that takest away the sins of the world," and is "most high in the
glory of God the Father." The resemblance is made the nearer in the
churches where much of ceremony is found (although noticeable in all,
since that resemblance is stereotyped in the formulas themselves; but in
the more elaborate performances the old rites are more clearly apparent)
in the tonsured head of the priest, in the suns often embroidered on
vestment and on altar-cloth, in the rays that surround the sacred
monogram on the vessels, in the cross imprinted on the bread, and
marking each utensil, in the lighted candles, in the grape-vine
chiselled on the chalice--in all these, and in many another symbol, we
read the whole story of the Sun-god, written in hieroglyphics as easily
decipherable by the initiated as is the testimony of the rocks by the
geologian.
But passing by this antiquarian side of the Office, we will examine it
as a service suitable for the use of educated and thoughtful people at
the present time. The Rubric which precedes the Office is one of those
unfortunate rules which are obsolete as regards their practice, and yet
which--from their preservation--appear to simple-minded parsons to be
intended to be enforced, whereby the said parsons fall into the clutches
of the law, and suffer grievously. "An open and notorious evil-liver"
must not be permitted to come to the Lord's Table, and this expression
seems to be explained in the Exhortation in the Office, wherein we read:
"if any of you be a blasphemer of God, an hinderer or slanderer of His
word, an adulterer, or be in malice, or envy, or in any other grievous
crime, repent you of your sins, or else come not to that holy Table;
lest, after the taking of that holy Sacrament, the devil enter into
you, as he entered into Judas, and fill you full of all iniquities, and
bring you to destruction both of: body and soul." In a late case,
the Sacrament was refused to one who disbelieved in the devil and who
slandered God's word, on those very grounds, and it would seem to be an
act of Christian charity so to deny it; for surely to say that part of
God's word is "contrary to religion and decency" must be to slander it,
if words have any meaning, and people who do not believe in the devil
ought hardly to be sharers in a rite after which the devil will
enter into them with such melancholy consequences. It would seem more
consistent either to alter the formulas or else to carry them out;
true, one clergyman wrote that the responsibility lay with the unworthy
recipient who "did nothing else but increase" his "damnation," but it
is scarcely a pleasing notion that the clergyman should stand inviting
people to the Lord's table and, coolly handing to one of those who
accept, the body of Christ, say, "The Body of our Lord Jesus Christ
preserve thy body and soul unto everlasting life," when he means--in the
delicate language used by the above-mentioned clergyman--"The Body of
our Lord Jesus Christ damn thy body and soul unto everlasting death."
No one but a clergyman could dream of so offensive a proceeding, and, to
those who believe, one so terribly awful.
The Ten Commandments which stand in the fore-front of the service are
very much out of place as regards some of them, to say nothing of the
want of truthfulness in the assertion, that "God spake these words," &c.
In the second we are forbidden to make any graven image, or any likeness
of any thing, a command which would destroy all art, and which no member
of the congregation can have the smallest notion of obeying. The Jews,
who made the cherubim over the ark, upon which God sat, are popularly
supposed not to have disobeyed this command, because the cherubim were
not the likeness of anything in heaven, earth, or water: they were,
like unicorns, creatures undiscovered and undiscoverable. Yet in direct
opposition to this command, Solomon made brazen oxen to support his sea
of brass (1 Kings vii. 25,29) and lions on the steps of his ivory throne
(Kings x. 19,20) and God himself, said to have ordered Moses to make a
brazen Serpent. God is described, in this same commandment as a "jealous
God"--which is decidedly immoral and unpleasant who visits "the sins of
the fathers upon the children, unto the third and fourth generation of
them that hate me;" the justice of this is so obvious that no comment on
it is necessary. The fourth Commandment is another which no one dreams
of attending to; in the first place, we do not keep the seventh day at
all, and in the second, our man-servant, our maid-servant and our cattle
do all manner of work on the day we keep as the Sabbath. Further, who
in the present day believes that "in six days the Lord made heaven and
earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and rested the seventh day;"
geology, astronomy ethnology have taught us otherwise, and, among those
who repeat the response to this commandment in a London church, not
one could probably be found who believes it to be true. The fifth
Commandment is equally out of place, for dutiful children do not live
any longer than undutiful. The remainder touch simple moral duties,
enforced by all creeds alike, and are noticeable for their omissions
and not for their commissions: the insertion of the Buddhist Commandment
against intoxication, for instance, would be an improvement, although
such a commandment is naturally not to be found in the case of so gross
and sensual a people as the ancient Jews. The alternative prayers for
the Queen, which follow next, are only worth noting, because the first
enshrines the doctrine of divine right, which is long since dead and
buried, except in church; and the other says "that the hearts of Kings
are in thy rule and governance," and suggests the thought that, if
this be so, it is better to be out of that "rule and governance," the
effects on the hearts of Kings not having been specially attractive.
The Nicene Creed comes next, and is open to-the objections before made
against the Apostles' Creed; the last clauses relating to the Holy
Ghost are historically interesting, since the "and the Son" forms the
_Filioque_ which severed Eastern from Western Christendom;*
* A short but very graphic account of the shameful
transaction by which the Filioque clause was, so to speak,
smuggled into the Nicene Creed, is to be found in the first
ten or twelve pages of the shilling pamphlet written by
Edmond S. Fouldes, B.D., entitled "The Church's Creed, or
the Crown's Creed".... clearly provides, too, that the
Church of Rome once held that the Holy Ghost only proceeded
from the Father, as the Dominus in it can only refer to the
Father.
"Who with the Father and the Son together" ought to be "worshipped and
glorified," would be more true to fact than "is," since the Holy Ghost
is sadly ignored by modern Christendom, and has a very small share of
either prayers or hymns: yet he is the husband of the virgin Mary, and
the Father of Jesus Christ; he is, therefore, a very important, though
puzzling, person in the Godhead, being the Father of him from whom
he himself proceeds: this is a mystery, and can only be understood
by faith. The texts that follow are remarkable for their ingenious
selection: "Who goeth a warfare," &c. (Cor. ix. 7); "If we have
sown,"&c. (I cor. ix. 9); "Do ye know," &c. (I Cor. ix. 13); "He that
soweth little," &c, (2 Cor. ix. 6); "Let him that is taught," (Gal. vi.
6). the pervading selfishness of motive is also worth nothing: Give now
in order that ye may get hereafter; "Never turn thy face from any
poor man, _and then the face of the Lord shall not be turned away from
thee_;" "He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord: _and
look, what he layeth out, it shall be paid him again_;" "If thou hast
much, give plenteously; if thou hast little, do thy diligence gladly to
give of that little; _for so gathered thou thyself a good reward in the
day of necessity_."* No free, glad giving here; no willing, joyful aid
to a poorer brother, because he needs what I can give; no ready offer of
the cup of cold water, simply because the thirsty is there and wants the
refreshment; ever the hateful whisper comes: "thou shalt in no wise lose
thy reward." These time-serving offerings are then presented to God by
being placed "upon the Holy Table," and we then get another prayer for
Queen, Christian Kings, authorities, Bishops, and people in general,
concluding with thanks for the dead, not a cheerful subject to bless God
for, if there chance to be present any mourner whose heart is sore with
the loss of a beloved one. At this point the service is supposed to end,
when no celebration of the Holy Communion is intended, and here we find
two Exhortations, or notices of celebration, from the first of which
we have already quoted:** in the second, we cannot help remarking the
undignified position in which God is placed; it is a "grievous and
unkind thing" not to come to a rich feast when invited thereto,
wherefore we are to fear lest by withdrawing ourselves from this holy
Supper, we "provoke God's indignation against" us. "Consider with
yourselves how great injury ye do unto God:" what a very curious
expression. Is God thus at the mercy of man? Surely, then, of all living
Beings the lot of God must be the saddest, if his happiness and his
glory are in the hands of each man and woman; the greater his knowledge
the greater the misery, and as his knowledge is perfect, and the vast
majority of human kind know and care nothing about him, his wretchedness
must be complete.
* As if the clergy, with very few exceptions, are not
sufficiently provided for by the tithes, &c, without having
to go a-begging like either Buddhist or Roman Catholic
monks, to both of whom P.P. and P.M. are not inappropriately
applied (Professors of Poverty and Practisers of
Mendicancy).
** It is, however, only just to say that that portion of it
contained between "The Way and Means thereto," and "Offences
at God's Hands," is one of the best bits in the whole
Prayer-Book, and which far surpasses the generality of
sermons one hears afterwards.
All things being ready, the clergyman begins by another Exhortation, of
somewhat threatening character: "So is the danger great if we receive
the same unworthily. For then we are guilty of the Body and Blood of
Christ our Saviour; we eat and drink our own damnation, not considering
the Lord's Body; we kindle God's wrath against us; we provoke him to
plague us with divers diseases, and sundry kinds of death." (Surely we
cannot be plagued with more than one kind of death at once, and we can't
die sundry times, even after the Communion.) One almost wonders why
anyone accepts this very threatening invitation, even though there are
advantages promised to "meet partakers." The High Church party have
indeed the right to talk much of the real presence, since ordinary bread
and wine have none of these fearful penalties attached to the eating and
drinking, and some curious change must have taken place in them before
all these terrible consequences can ensue. What would happen if some
consecrated bread and wine chanced to be left by mistake, and a stray
comer into the vestry eat it unknowingly? One thinks of Anne Askew, who,
told that a mouse eating a crumb fallen from the Host would infallibly
be damned, replied, "Alack, poor mouse!" Then follows a Confession of
the most cringing kind, fit only for the lips of some coward suppliant
crouching at the feet of an Eastern monarch; it is marvellous that free
English men and women can frame their lips into phrases of such utter
abasement, even to a God; manliness in religion: is sorely-needed,
unless, indeed, God be something smaller than man, and be pleased with
the degradation painful to human eyes. The prayer of consecration is the
central point of the ordinance; of old they prayed for the descent of
the Holy Ghost on the elements, "for whatsoever the Holy-Ghost toucheth
is sanctified and clean"--it is not explained how the Holy Ghost, being
omnipresent, manages to avoid touching everything--and now the priest
asks that in receiving the bread and wine we "may be partakers of"
Christ's Body and Blood, and repeats the words, "This is my Body," "This
is my Blood," laying his hand alternately-over the bread and the wine:
now if this means anything, if it is not mere mockery, it means that
after the consecration the bread and wine are other than they were
before; if it does not mean this, the whole prayer is simply a farce, a
piece of acting scarcely decent under the circumstances. But flesh
and blood! Putting aside the extreme repulsiveness of the idea, the
coarseness of the act, the utter unpleasantness of eating flesh and
drinking blood, all of which has become non-disgusting by habit and
fashion, and the distastefulness of which can scarcely be realised by
any believer--putting aside all this, is there any change in the bread
and wine? Examine it; analyse it; test it in any and every fashion;
still it answers back to the questioner, "bread and wine." Are our
senses deceived? Then try a hundred different persons; all cannot be
deceived alike. Unless every result of experience is untrustworthy, we
have here to do with bread and wine, and with nothing more. "But faith
is needed." Ah yes! There is the secret: no flesh and blood without
faith; no miracle without credulity. Miracle-working priests are only
successful among credulously-disposed people; miracles can only be
received by those who think it less likely that Nature should speak
falsely than that man should deceive; those who believe in this change
through consecration cannot be touched by argument; they have closed
their eyes that they may not see, their ears that they may not hear;
no knowledge can reach them, for they have shut the gateways whereby
it could enter, they are literally dead in their superstition, buried
beneath the stone of their faith. The reception of the Body and Blood of
Christ being over, the people having knelt to eat and drink, as is only
right when eating and drinking Christ (John vi. 57), the Lord's Prayer
is said for the second time, a prayer and thanksgiving follows, confined
to "we and all thy whole Church," for the spirit is the same as that of
the prayer of Christ, "I pray not for the world, but for them whom thou
hast given me" (John xvii. 9), and then the service winds up with the
_Gloria in Excelsis_ and the Benediction. Such is the "bounden duty and
service" offered by the Church to God, the service of which the central
act must be either a farce or a falsehood, and therefore insulting to
the God to whom it is offered. Regarded as a service to God, the whole
Communion Office is objectionable in the highest degree; regarded as
an antiquarian survival, it is very interesting and instructive; it is
surely time that it should be put in its right place, and that its true
origin should be recognised. The day is gone by for these barbarous,
though poetic, ceremonials; the "flesh and blood," which was a bold
figure for the heat and light of the sun, becomes coarse when joined in
thought to a human being; ceremonies that fitted the childhood of the
world are out of place in its manhood, as the play that is graceful
in the child would be despicable in the man; these rites are the
baby-clothes of the world, and cannot be stretched to fit the stalwart
limbs of its maturer age, cannot add grace to its form, or dignity to
its graver walk.