My church practices intinction, which means we take the Lord’s Supper every week by dipping the bread into the cup instead of ingesting each element separately.
Allow me to clear the air: we do not so in some misguided quest to seem different or “cool.” Nor do we so to identify with Judas (John 13:26). Nor again is it because we failed to notice that when Jesus instituted the Lord’s Supper, he distributed the bread and the wine separately (cf. Matt. 26:26–29; Mark 14:22–25; Luke 22:19–20).
Rather, it’s because we believe the mode of ingesting the elements is not essential to the proper administration of the Lord’s Supper and, as such, is permissible as adiaphora (a matter of indifference).
Sound of Silence
It’s remarkable, actually, how little the New Testament says about the administration of the sacraments. The apostles wrote far more about the kind of men God calls to lead his people than about the rituals Christ established to be defining marks of the church.
The scarcity of biblical instruction concerning the sacraments is particularly apparent in the case of the Lord’s Supper. This sacrament is mentioned in just a handful of places, three of which are found in the Synoptic Gospels, whose authors borrowed from one another (cf. Luke 1:1–4). On one hand, this is not a problem. God’s Word is true and abides forever (Ps. 119:89; Prov. 30:5), so he only needs to say something once to establish its authority.
The scarcity of biblical instruction concerning the sacraments is particularly apparent in the case of the Lord’s Supper.
Yet on the other hand, the lack of instruction regarding a key symbol of the new covenant (Luke 22:20) seems deliberate, especially when contrasted with the extensive details God gave his people for the rites and ceremonies of the old covenant. Just ask anyone whose plan to read the Bible in a year was derailed by Leviticus: our Lord knows how to be specific when he wants to be.
Thus I take the absence of detailed instructions for the administration of the Lord’s Supper to suggest that its true significance lies not in its mode of ingestion, but in its connection to the gospel (1 Cor. 11:23–25), in the frequency of its reception (1 Cor. 11:26), and in the worthiness of those who receive it (1 Cor. 11:27–32).
Cutting Off the Branch You’re Sitting On
The strongest argument against an adiaphora approach to intinction is found among Protestants who hold to the regulative principle. John Calvin succinctly defined the regulative principle like this: “God disapproves of all modes of worship not expressly sanctioned by his Word.”
Not that it matters what I think, but for the record: I like the regulative principle. I agree with the regulative principle. But I would humbly (and seriously) suggest that those who insist on the most rigid application of the regulative principle take heed to themselves. For my Presbyterian and Reformed friends, it’s good to remember there’s not even one explicit example of an infant baptism in the New Testament (a truly remarkable fact given the Reformed insistence on doing only what Scripture prescribes).
My Baptist brothers aren’t off the hook either. Our Lord instituted his Supper during the Passover meal (Luke 22:14–20), which involved several cups of wine (John 2:10). Further, Christ distributed the bread from one loaf and the wine from one (common) cup, not a hundred tiny shot glasses (cf. Matt. 26:27; Mark 14:23; Luke 22:20)—a detail that, at first blush, would seem to be significant (1 Cor. 10:17).
Some of you will surely say unto me, “Physician of souls, I have healed myself! For my church does employ a common cup, and with real wine too!” Well and good. But do you also use the unleavened bread that was present for the Passover (Ezek. 45:21; 2 Chron. 35:17; Matt. 26:17; Luke 22:1, 7)? And do you observe the Lord’s Supper as part of a full meal—just as it was first instituted (Matt. 26:26; Mark 14:22; Luke 22:14–15), and as it was practiced in the apostolic church (1 Cor. 11:20–22, 33–34), and as the early witness of The Didache plainly instructs?
Bueller? Bueller?
The Way Forward
It seems to me that only special pleading can escape the inconsistencies of a thorough application of the regulative principle. That is to say, I struggle to see how anyone can insist on the strict separation of the elements without also requiring wine, unleavened bread, a common cup, and a full meal. This is not a call for legalists to step up; it’s a call for wisdom among the saints. It’s an invitation to consider that the mode of ingesting the elements is not essential to the sacrament.
I struggle to see how anyone can insist on the strict separation of the elements without also requiring wine, unleavened bread, a common cup, and a full meal.
On this point, I think there’s an important parallel with how the early church handled the sacrament of baptism. It’s no secret that the authors of The Didache made allowances for baptism by affusion (i.e., pouring) when a sufficient quantity of water wasn’t present for immersion. Similarly, the case for credobaptism has never been primarily about baptism’s essential mode, but about its essential meaning—and the necessary conditions that qualify one to be a recipient (note the parallels to Paul’s description of the Supper in 1 Cor. 11:23–32). That’s not to say credobaptists don’t prefer immersion—we do, believing it best reflects the symbolism of our union with Christ’s death and resurrection.
In similar fashion, I’m perfectly content to agree that, under ideal circumstances, the symbolism of the Lord’s Supper is best preserved by its weekly observance with a common loaf and a common cup (with real wine). But when circumstances of various kinds don’t permit this, let the Lord’s people take the Supper with the best means available to them—so long as they feast with faith, with self-reflection, and with great joy.
For, in the end, is not the meaning—the purpose—of the meal its declaration that believers are one with Christ and his people (1 Cor. 10:16)? And if we’re united with him, then the Supper communicates everything that union means: it signifies our justification, our adoption, our sanctification, and our glorification. It signifies our fellowship with God and our unity with his people. It signifies that we’re partakers of his Spirit and coheirs with his Son. And it signifies that we who dine with Christ now will feast with him forever (Isa. 25:6–7; Matt. 26:29; Rev. 19:9).
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