First, I’d like to thank my gracious interlocutor for his thoughtful response. It is worth pausing in our dialogue to acknowledge that the commonality of our positions is far vaster than our differences on this particular issue. This may help us keep the stakes in perspective. We are not addressing differences that color the substance of the gospel so much as truths adjacent to it. I’m ever grateful for his willingness to discuss and ask humbly for his patience as we wade into deeper waters.
I’d like to address the distinction between symbolic and spiritual with a little more depth, since I think the greatest of our differences lies in our definition of spirit. I will still insist that the distinction is worth making and that these definitions are vital to our discussion. The spiritual is the abstract, intangible phenomenon of invisible being, the transcendent form reflected where meaning is present. For example, we might say that the phenomenon of human being finds its form in the soul because human being is a symbol, the image of God. Consider this model: The physical is where we encounter the symbolic, the symbolic is where we encounter the spiritual. The symbolic mediates between the visible and invisible, much like how Christ, the divine logos, the Word, mediates through His incarnation between God and mankind (We will visit some additional importance of logos later). Recall my earlier point on the nature of language from Part I. The symbolic is the concrete instantiation of the abstract and the physical visitation of the spiritual. It is the tongues of flame appearing over the faithful at Pentecost, the back of God, critically, presented instead of His face, to Moses, the invisible form made perceptible. The ear hears the word, the word mediates meaning.
For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes. – 1 Corinthians 11:26 (ESV). This is a statement of the Supper’s function, along with Christ’s command to conduct the Ordinance “in remembrance.” The ritual is a word proclaimed. Hence, we may understand Paul’s warning about taking the elements wrongly much like a warning about proclaiming a gospel message full of lies and falsehoods. The physical means are important precisely because of what they emblemize. One cannot be changed without affecting the other, a word cannot be written differently without altering its meaning.
Now, to address more directly the substance of the previous post. I’d like to dwell on “is,” especially given we agree on its fundamental dependence on the nature of being. While I respect the undilute simplicity and conviction of “is means is” — and the fiery staunchness of Luther that glows in that phrase is undoubtedly a boon to the history of Protestantism — it ultimately fails to do much, if anything, exegetically. “Is means is” does not define, explain, or interpret “is,” only restates it with an assumption that the interpretation of the one saying it is embedded somehow in the definition, and thus requires no explanation. Along with that, I’m concerned that the same sort of shaky rhetoric underpinning the spirit of Fundamentalism might sneak in with the suggestion that a more literal understanding of the “is” inherently represents a more reverent view. This all sounds a great deal like Ken Ham’s statement that he is not a “young-earth creationist” but a “biblical creationist.” I don’t reject Ken Ham’s sincerity or Luther’s, but I do reject the logic that grossly reduces the issue and begs the question. I think it is telling that Nate would agree with Luther that “is means is” but not what “is means is” actually entails. This reveals that there is exegetical work being severely overlooked by the use of Luther’s famous aphorism.
This grappling with language is the real meat and potatoes of theology. There’s a reason why the multifaceted meanings of logos in John 1 are so important to understanding the breadth of Christological truth present in that chapter. It would hardly do the apostle’s God-breathed narrative justice to simply say “word means word.” Fittingly, it is in fact the concept of the divine logos that gives us a biblical picture for the importance of language. I’m sure Nate will agree that the fact of language, as the vehicle of meaning, is not a simple beast to tame. “Word” is indeed within the semantic range of logos, and the use of the term by John evokes a cultural legacy of Greek philosophy in which the spoken and written word was used as a sort of meta-symbol of the divinely ordained order of the cosmos. Language is the means by which God creates the universe, and John invokes this connection as an indication of Christ’s nature as that which mediates between God and His creation. Christ is the Word, the language of God, the mediator between spirit and flesh in so many ways. Hermeneutics, then, is the whole battle.
This applies equally to Christ’s emphatic statement in John 6 that the consumption of His flesh and drinking of His blood are necessary for salvation. There is a lot of theological heavy lifting needed here. It wouldn’t be sufficient to say of Christ’s statement that the recipient of the elements “dwelleth in me, and I in him,” simply that “in means in,” thereby presupposing obviousness in the speaker’s view, which in this manner would disguise itself as the only valid understanding arrived at simply from the text itself with no interpretative movement. Christ does not bodily, physically dwell within the believer, nor vice versa. There’s a hermeneutic that transmits the import of Christ’s words, and that hermeneutic necessarily shapes the meaning one extracts from the passage.
Further, in order to examine the hermeneutic being implicitly mandated by a more literal view, consider that, if applied equally, why should Christ’s words be interpreted so literalistically in this instance and not when He says one must be born again?
Jesus answered him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not marvel that I said to you, ‘You must be born again.’ The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” – John 3:3-8 (ESV)
We know that the context informs the meaning of “is born of water and the spirit.” Christ elaborates on the significance of spiritual rebirth. We understand this truth as it is instantiated in baptism, the other Ordinance we receive from Christ, which is not the physical re-gestation and delivery of a person from his mother’s body. Just as Jesus offers an alleviation to the confusion of Nicodemus in John 3, He does the same for His apostles in John 6 discussing the other Ordinance.
When many of his disciples heard it, they said, “This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?” But Jesus, knowing in himself that his disciples were grumbling about this, said to them, “Do you take offense at this? Then what if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before? It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh is no help at all. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life. – John 6:60-63 (ESV)
In both cases, the immediate, literalistic reading of Jesus’ words is supplanted by Christ’s elaboration on matters of the spirit. Note that following the statement that one must eat His flesh, He further states that “It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh is no help at all.” This signals that an incredibly layered, multi-valent representation is occurring in the image of consuming Christ’s flesh. Christ connects this to His coming ascension, which is perhaps equally layered. In part, I believe it invokes the hierarchical relation between spirit and flesh. Christ is appealing to that mediation of symbol, which He ultimately embodies, ascending between earth and heaven, and the transcendent nature of the spiritual reality to which the physical merely alludes as He metes out “spirit and life” by His words to His apostles.
The image of ascension here is, in my view, an invitation to fixate our interpretative gaze on Christ’s movement between the two worlds. Essentially, He is challenging His hearers to accept the symbol because it makes sense of a spiritual truth that would be incomprehensible to them if not mediated in this way. It is after the scene in question that Christ states in verse 64, “But there are some of you that believe not,” before the faith of Peter and secret treachery of Judas are contrasted. The whole scene points to the necessity of belief in the thing to which the symbol points rather than in a mystical faith in the physical artifacts themselves.
I don’t point this out primarily because I think it necessarily invalidates any particular real presence view — though I think it does, just not necessarily — but more importantly to call attention to the fact that the militant sentiment of Luther, while helpful in its insistence upon the truth, can be dangerous for its potential to smuggle in a half-constructed hermeneutic. The reader of Christ’s words in both these passages from John’s gospel necessarily engages in an interpretative trek that spans a deep chasm between the truth and understanding, and that trek is not much aided by tautologies.
Lastly, let us examine the thief on the cross. Depending on what side of the discourse on baptism you fall on, and your familiarity with it, I know you may be rolling your eyes already, but this point bears considering. If Christ meant that one must eat of the elements of the Supper in order to be saved, how was the thief saved? One might argue that he was an exception. On what grounds? Does our God change like a shadow? Is His rule so flexible? If indeed “is” suggests one must literally, concretely eat of Christ’s flesh rather than in any other sense, then the thief fails to meet the criteria for salvation. Further, how was Abraham saved? Or Moses? If we understand that the Supper is a symbol that invokes a spiritual reality, and thus distinguish between the reference and the referent, this dilemma vanishes. I say the thief did not materially partake of Christ’s body and blood, and nonetheless truly partook. I might even venture that he fed on Christ’s body and blood spiritually even without doing so physically. Much like with baptism, the reference is to that which saves, and is not in itself that which saves. I think the view to which I’m objecting here is much less equipped to answer this question of the thief on the cross than the one I’ve offered, though I eagerly await any arguments to the contrary.
These discussions, even over seemingly minor differences, have historically tragically been the source of a great deal of discord within the body of Christ, and I am glad we have been able to approach this topic with respect and grace. Therefore, I think it’s prudent to end this entry with an emphasis on charity. My goal is not to spread disagreement, but to wrestle with it head on. If we truly love God, then we will desire to know Him well. This kind of discussion is one way in which we, as brothers in Christ, impel each other toward a greater knowledge of our God. Our understanding of the Lord’s Supper is, as some say, a “family issue” within the brotherhood of those adopted in Christ. In light of that, I am, once again, deeply grateful for Nate’s willingness to charitably disagree with me. I pray for humility and gentleness as our conversation goes on, as it indeed seems it will, and I encourage all our brothers and sisters to be mindful always that the end of theology is to glorify God and delight in Him, which cannot be done without gentleness and love.
Get wisdom, get understanding: forget it not; neither decline from the words of my mouth. Forsake her not, and she shall preserve thee: love her, and she shall keep thee. Wisdom is the principal thing; therefore get wisdom: and with all thy getting get understanding. – Proverbs 4:5-7 (KJV)
But foolish and unlearned questions avoid, knowing that they do gender strifes. And the servant of the Lord must not strive; but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient. – 2 Timothy 2:23-25 (KJV)
Being Kindled 
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