What happens at the Table of the Lord? If Christ is really present, then how is this so? The witness of the Church throughout history has been that Christ is present in the Eucharist through the operation of the Holy Spirit, and in the practice of the Church, prayers at the Eucharist gradually acknowledged this truth.
This three-part series will explore the element of the Eucharistic prayer or anaphora called the epiclesis, which is the invocation of the Holy Spirit. Through this study I hope to show how this particular part of the prayer was introduced and why it is important for us. Presented here is a brief account of some of the directly relevant Biblical passages, as well as a summary of the historical and theological issues, and finally, a suggested form for an epiclesis based on those studies.
Over the course of the first centuries of early Church history, the Eucharistic prayer underwent development, expansion, and change, even as the Church developed its doctrine of the Eucharist, of the Trinity, and of consecration. There is no simple discernible progression of the form of the anaphora, featuring preface, Sanctus, institution narrative, anamnesis, oblation, epiclesis, and doxology; rather, it seems evident that churches of various geographic regions and diverse backgrounds exchanged and shared practices for Eucharistic praying in the first few centuries before centralized ecclesiastical control was exercised to unify and standardize the prayer forms across the churches. ((Paul F. Bradshaw, The Search for the Origins of Christian Worship (Second Edition.; New York: Oxford University Press, 1992), 7-8.))
The doctrine of the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist has led to significant discussion of two specific elements: the epiclesis and words of institution. The Eastern Church has, in later times,((Alexander Schmemann, The Eucharist (New York: St. Vladimir’s, 1987). Schmemann has an excellent discussion of the creeping in of the Western idea of the “consecratory moment” into Eastern thought in
chapter 11, “The Sacrament of the Holy Spirit.”))
generally viewed epiclesis as a “moment of consecration,” and the Western Roman Rite, not having an explicit invocation of the Holy Spirit in the Tridentine, has regarded the institution narrative as the consecration. For churches that hold to a Calvinistic view of Real Presence through spiritual ascent, a “moment of consecration” debate has little place, for in a Calvinist view of the Eucharist, it is the congregation who is translated and transformed during the rite, and not the elements. Nevertheless, I believe the epiclesis still has a place and proper form within an anaphora based upon Trinitarian theology and the theology of spiritual ascent.
The Biblical Foundations
The word epiclesis((From the Greek epi, “near,” and klesis, “calling.”)) essentially means an invocation, the calling of a name, or a petition to “come” upon or into, in answer to an appeal. In the Eucharist, the part of the prayer that bears the term has historically been viewed both as a blessing and consecration of the elements of bread and wine.((John McKenna, The Eucharistic Epiclesis (Second Edition.; Chicago: Hillenbrand Books, 2009), 47-51. These pages summarize at least some attempts to locate in Irenaeus and Cyril of Jerusalem the epiclesis as a consecratory moment.)) In the Greek Septuagint Old Testament books regarded as canonical by Protestants, there are no occurrences of the word. However, we find two instances of epiclesis being used in reference an invocation of God in 2 Maccabees:
(8:14-15) But those who stayed were selling all the things that remained, and with one accord they began to beseech the Lord to rescue those who had been sold by the impious Nicanor before a meeting in battle. And if not on account of them, yet on account of the covenants with their fathers and because of the invocation upon them of his sacred and magnificent name. . . .
(15:16) Now those with Nicanor began advancing with trumpet blasts and battle cries. Then those with Judas engaged their enemies with an invocation and prayers.
Additionally, the more general “calling” (klesis) is used in the New Testament of God’s call upon men (Philippians 3:14, Ephesians 1:18), and to refer thereafter to their calling for Christian life and service (Romans 11:29, Hebrews 3:1), rather than to refer to invocation of God. So we must begin the study by acknowledging that the terminology of epiclesis is extra-biblical, and its immediate textual foundation is found in two instances in the book of 2 Maccabees.
However, working through the New Testament, we may find instances of what we might term an epiclesis. The final book of the Bible concludes with an epiclesis of sorts, though addressed not to the Holy Spirit, but to Jesus Christ (Revelation 22:17-20). Interestingly, the Spirit is directly involved in the invocation of Christ to “come.” And Jesus answers the invocation, “Surely I am coming soon.” Likewise, in 1 Corinthians 16:22, Paul invokes the Lord in the Aramaic Maranatha. The gradual addition of Holy Spirit invocations in the prayers of the Church to the Christ invocations found in Scripture seems likely due to ante-Nicene theological developments in doctrine of the Holy Spirit.
In the context of the Eucharist, no explicit kind of invocation is found in Scripture, but this does not necessarily mean it is not warranted, since we find what some have taken to be traces and clues of a kind of invocation in the New Testament. First, let’s examine at the Gospel narratives of the last supper.
Matthew 26:26 indicates that “Jesus took bread, and after blessing((εὐλογήσας)) [it] broke [it] and gave [it] to his disciples . . . And he took the cup, and when he had given thanks he gave [it] . . .” The Gospel accounts of Mark and Luke are similar in how they describe the actions of Jesus at the table. For the bread, Luke substitutes “when he had given thanks” for Matthew’s “after blessing,” which suggests to us that blessing and giving thanks are in some sense the same action. There is no direct object for the “blessing” in the Greek, though one is generally supplied in English translations. But for maintain the parallel the apparent parallel, the “blessing” requires no direct object just as his “giving thanks” also requires no direct object. Thus, “Jesus took bread, and after blessing, broke and gave . . .”
So while Matthew is not speaking of blessing the bread directly, it may serve to clarify what exactly Jesus is doing. That is, he is likely speaking a general blessing in association with the bread and the cup, bringing to mind what we have of the Jewish berakoth formulas for bread and cup, of which we will look at a little later.
While the Gospel narratives do not describe the blessing of the elements, 1 Corinthians 10:16-17 may have a much stronger indication of it:
The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread.
Here, the direct objects are clear. The phrase, “The cup of blessing that we bless”((Τὸ ποτήριον τῆς εὐλογίας ὃ εὐλογοῦμεν)) suggests that there is a blessing spoken either explicitly to bless the cup, or in such close association with the cup that it can be said to bless the cup itself. Closely tied to this blessing of the cup is a strong statement of vital communion and fellowship in Christ’s blood. The cup of blessing brings about communion. Likewise the bread broken entails communion in his body. There is also the further implication in 1 Corinthians 10:18-21 that if the Lord’s Table is analogous to the sacrifices of Israel and the exact opposite of the table of demons, there may be a sense in which the bread and wine may be considered an “offering” to God, and therefore a participatory meal, in the same way that Israel had communion in the altar and those who eat food offered to idols are in real danger of having communion with demons.((See C. John Collins, “Eucharist as Christian Sacrifice,” WTJ 66:1, 2004 for an in-depth discussion of what it might mean for Reformed churches to understand the Eucharist as offering.))
Finally we see that in this passage that communion is not only with God, but with one another. Eating of the “one bread” is the cause of its partakers being “one body.”
The Nature of Blessing
So what, exactly is this “blessing” of which the Eucharistic passages speak? What can we glean something from how the Church has prayed at the Lord’s Table? First, we should not expect to find anything like an ancient standardized anaphora, if we remember that Justin Martyr, in his First Apology, giving the first extra-biblical account of Christian worship, tells us that the prayer for the Eucharist is offered by the president “according to his ability,” which we must take to mean extempore. At the same time, there is more that may be gleaned from Justin Martyr.
. . . as Jesus Christ our Saviour, having been made flesh by the Word of God, had both flesh and blood for our salvation, so likewise have we been taught that the food which is blessed by the prayer of His word, and from which our blood and flesh by transmutation are nourished, is the flesh and blood of that Jesus who was made flesh.”((Justin Martyr, “The First Apology of Justin,” in The Apostolic Fathers with Justin Martyr and Irenaeus (ed. Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson, and A. Cleveland Coxe; vol. 1; The Ante-Nicene Fathers; Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Company, 1885), 1185.))
The phrase relevant to epiclesis here is “blessed by the prayer of His word,” or “over which the thanksgiving has been said.” ((Lawrence J. Johnson, Worship in the Early Church: An Anthology of Historical Sources (vol. 1; Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2009), 68.))It is impossible to impute any notion of a full epiclesis onto this account, but Justin Martyr may hold one more clue for us yet:
There is then brought to the president of the brethren bread and a cup of wine mixed with water; and he taking them, gives praise and glory to the Father of the universe, through the name of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, and offers thanks at considerable length for our being counted worthy to receive these things at His hands.((Justin Martyr, “First Apology,” 1185))
We begin to see some similarities between the blessing of the Eucharistic prayer and the Jewish berakoth (blessings) that we know of. The president gives thanks “to the Father of the universe.” This recalls to mind the berakah for the cup in the Passover Haggadah which goes like this: “Blessed art Thou, Adonai our Lord, King of the universe, creator of the fruit of the vine.”((Joseph Tabory, JPS Commentary on the Haggadah: Historical Introduction, Translation, and Commentary (Philadelphia, PA: The Jewish Publication Society, 2008), 110.))This blessing is not exclusive to the Seder, but is common also to what we know of every birkat ha-mazon meal prayers. ((The Haggadah receives more attention for noticeable parallels to Christian Eucharistic anamnesis than for the general form of berakoth.))In Justin Martyr, we see that this same kind of blessing is addressed, evidently to the Father “through the name of the Son and of the Holy Ghost,” after which more thanksgivings of “considerable length” follow, especially for being counted “worthy to receive.”
It is impossible to say how ancient the Haggadah prayers are; although many purport to be from before the destruction of the second Temple, the Haggadah was transmitted orally for generations before being written down in the 8th century A.D.((Ibid., 1. Some evidence of seder orders exist from as early as the 4th century. See Bokser, 29.))However, we can find clear examples the berakah form of prayer in Scripture. That form, for example as found in 2 Chronicles 2:12, is first an ascription of blessing to God—“Blessed be the LORD”—sometimes followed by a title of God—“God of Israel”—followed by the reason for blessing or praise for a particular act of God, such as “who made heaven and earth, who has given King David a wise son. . . .”
One thing that the Biblical berakoth and those of the Haggadah have in common is this: they address only God in blessing. In no case do they pronounce blessing directly upon an impersonal object.
In Scripture, most often, people are the object of benediction: their assemblies, their names, their houses (households), and their children. Also, days and times are clearly consecrated to be holy and called blessed. Yet, while we have no cases of benediction being said over objects, still God specifically promises to bless food. In Exodus 23:24-25, YHWH tells Israel, “you shall not bow down to their gods nor serve them . . . You shall serve the LORD your God, and he will bless your bread and your water, and I will take sickness away from you.” And again in Deuteronomy 28:5, “Blessed shall be your basket and your kneading bowl” (i.e. the grain which is gathered into the basket, and the dough of bread, which is produced in the kneading bowl). The blessing of food is directly tied to the service of YHWH, and especially the worship of him, rather than participating in the worship of other gods. If you worship YHWH, he will bless you; he will bless your food, and your drink. Food and drink are not blessed for their own sake, but for a specific benefit to God’s people.
We find echoes of this in 1 Corinthians 10:16-21 when Paul insists that the cup of blessing at Eucharist can in no way be mixed with the table of demons. But what can he mean when he says that we “bless” the “cup of blessing”? Calvin sees in the passage a clear and direct “mystical consecration,” and takes Erasmus to task for inserting the preposition “for” to make it read “the cup . . . for which we give thanks to God.” Moreover, Calvin clearly is in disagreement with any who would translate εὐλογοῦμεν to mean “give thanks for” rather than “bless.” ((John Calvin and John Pringle, Commentaries on the Epistles of Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (vol. 1; Bellingham, WA: Logos Bible Software, 2010), 334–335.
))
Thiselton takes a route similar to Erasmus, though retaining the meaning of blessing to render it “the cup over which we offer blessing.”((Anthony C. Thiselton, The First Epistle to the Corinthians: a Commentary on the Greek Text (New International Greek Testament Commentary; Grand Rapids, MI: W.B. Eerdmans, 2000), 760.)) Calvin argues that these kinds of renderings seem “exceedingly forced.”
Now, to this point I concur with Calvin. However, I believe he somewhat misses the mark.
Rather than needing to understand “blessing” to mean “set [the cup] apart a la consecration mystique,” in light of what we have seen regarding the customary berakoth and their relation to the “cup of blessing,” we can strike at the meaning much more directly without resorting to awkward renderings: it is evident that the worship of YHWH, and the blessing of God for the cup is so closely associated with the cup itself that we might rightly say that the cup itself is blessed in that act, or as a result of our blessing God, because God has promised to bless the food of his people when they worship him rather than following other gods.
In conclusion, because the berakah is not an invocation, although it will inform an appropriate epiclesis form, it cannot be considered an epiclesis, in the technical sense. This, we must turn to the pages of Church history to find, which we will do in part 2.
Christopher Kou has been a student in the Theopolis Institute intensive course program. He is currently pursuing an MA at Reformed Theological Seminary. He lives in the greater Chicago area, Illinois.