Monday, June 20, 2022

Infant Salvation


William G. T. Shedd:

     And this brings us to the subject of “elect infants.” There is no dispute that the Confession teaches that there are “elect dying infants.” Does it also teach that there are “non-elect dying infants?” In other words, does the phrase “elect infants” imply that there are “non-elect infants,” as the phrase “elect adults” does that there are “non-elect adults?” This depends upon whether the cases are alike in all particulars. The argument is from analogy, and analogical reasoning requires a resemblance and similarity upon which to rest. But the Confession directs attention to a great and marked diversity between infant and adult regeneration, which sets off the two classes from one another, making some things true of one that are not of the other. The Confession points at and signalizes the striking difference in the manner in which the Holy Ghost operates, in each instance. Infants are incapable of the outward call and common grace; adults are capable of both. Consequently an elect infant dying in infancy is “regenerated by Christ, through the Spirit,” without the outward call and common grace; but an elect adult is “regenerated by Christ through the Sprit,” in connection with the external call and common grace, and after both have been frustrated by him. Election and non-election in the case of adults is the selection of some and omission of others who are alike guilty of resisting the ordinary antecedents of regeneration. Election in the case of dying infants is wholly apart from this. There being this great dissimilarity between the two classes, it does not follow that every particular that is true of one must be of the other; that because election is individual in the instance of adults it must necessarily be so in that of infants; that because adults are not elected as a class infants cannot be. The state of things in which the regeneration of an adult occurs, namely after conviction of sin and more or less opposition to the truth, is entirely diverse from that in which the regeneration of a dying infant occurs; namely, in unconsciousness and without conviction of sin. The only form of grace that is possible to the dying infant is regenerating grace, and the only call possible is the effectual call. If therefore God manifests any grace at all to the dying infant, it must be special and saving; and if he call him at all, he must call him effectually. 

     Now, since the authors of the Confession have themselves distinctly specified such a peculiar feature in the regeneration of the dying infant, it is plain that they regarded it as differing in some respects from that of adults, and intended to disconnect it from that of adults and consider it by itself. For why should they take pains, when speaking of elect infants, to call attention to the fact that the “Holy Ghost worketh when, and where, and how he pleaseth,” if they did not mean to signalize the extraordinariness of the Divine action in infant regeneration? And if infant regeneration is extraordinary in not having been preceded by the usual antecedents of common grace and the outward call, why may it not be extraordinary in being universal and not particular? that of a class and not of individuals? Does not the singularity that distinguishes the infant in regard to regeneration without conviction of sin, suggest that of electing the whole class? But what is far more conclusive, does not the fact that the Assembly does not limit infant election by infant preterition, as it limits adult election by adult preterition, actually prove that there is this great diversity in the two cases? Does not the fact that the Assembly, while explicitly, and with a carefulness that is irritating to many persons, balancing and guarding the election of adults by preterition, does not do so with the election of infants, show beyond doubt that they believed their election to be unlimited, and that no dying infants are “passed by” in the bestowment of regenerating grace? We have already seen that the proposed omission of preterition, so as to leave only election in the case of adults, would make their election universal, and save the whole class without exception. The actual omission of it by the Assembly in the case of dying infants has the same effect. It is morally certain that if the Assembly had intended to discriminate between elect and non-elect infants, as they do between elect and non-elect adults, they would have taken pains to do so, and would have inserted a corresponding clause concerning infant preterition to indicate it. Whoever contends that they believed that preterition applies to infants, is bound to explain their silence upon this point. Had infant election been explicitly limited by infant preterition in the Confession, it would have been impossible for any candid expounder of it to hold that it permits subscribers to it to believe in the salvation of all dying infants. But Calvinistic divines for the last century or more have put this interpretation upon this section of the Confession, namely, that infant election is not individual but classical, and we think they are justified in so doing by the remarkable omission in this case.[fn. 1: Respecting the necessity of construing the Confession as teaching that there are non elect infants, Dr. Schaff remarks as follows: “The Confession nowhere speaks of reprobate infants, and the existence of such is not necessarily implied by way of distinction, although it probably was in the minds of the framers, as their private opinion, which they wisely withheld from the Confession” (Creeds of Christendom, i 795).]

     On the face of it, the thing looks probable. The case of the adult, in which there is both the outward call and the effectual, both common grace and regenerating, may be governed by the principle of individuality; while that of the infant, in which there is only the effectual call and regenerating grace, may be governed by the principle of community. Of those who have had the outward call and have rejected it, some may be taken and others left; while of those who have not had the outward call and have not rejected it, all may be taken. It is election in both instances; that is, the decision of God according to the counsel of his own will. In one case, God sovereignly decides to elect some; in the other, to elect all. And it is unmerited mercy, in both instances; because God is not bound and obliged by justice to pardon and eradicate the sin of an infant any more than that of an adult. And there is nothing in the fact that an infant has not resisted common grace, that entitles it to the exercise of special grace. In the transaction, God is moved wholly by his spontaneous and infinite mercy. He does an act to which he is not compelled by the sense of duty or of justice, either to himself or to sinners, but which he loves to do, and longs to do, because of his infinite pity and compassion.[fn. 1: The assumption that God is obliged by justice to offer salvation to all mankind, and to redeem them all, precludes all gratitude and praise for redemption, on their part. Why should they give thanks for a favor that is due to them, and which it is the duty of God to bestow? Christians adore “the riches of God’s grace” because it is utterly unclaim able on their part, and unobligated on his.]

     That many of the elder Calvinists believed that there are some non-elect infants is undeniable; and that in the long and heated discussions of the seventeenth century between Calvinists and Arminians, and between Calvinists themselves, many hard sayings were uttered by individual theologians which may be construed to prove that man is necessitated to sin, that God is the author of sin, and that the majority of mankind are lost, is equally undeniable. But the Westminster Confession must be held responsible for only what is declared on its pages. The question is not, whether few or many of the members of the Assembly held that some dying infants are lost, but whether the Confession so asserts; is not, whether any Calvinists of that day, in endeavoring to show how God decrees sin, may not have come perilously near representing him as doing it by direct efficiency, but whether the Reformed and Westminster creeds do this. 

     The rigor of the theology of the elder Calvinists has been exaggerated. They took a wide and large view of the possible extent of election. Owen is as strict as most of them. But in arguing against the Arminians, in support of the guilt and condemnability of original sin, he says: “Observe that in this inquiry of the desert of original sin, the question is not, What shall be the certain lot of those who depart this life under the guilt of this sin only? but what this hereditary and native corruption doth deserve, in all those in whom it is? For as St. Paul saith, ‘We judge not them that are without’ (especially infants), 1 Cor. 5:13. But for the demerit of it in the justice of God, our Saviour expressly affirmeth that ‘unless a man be born again, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.’ Again, we are assured that no unclean thing shall enter into heaven (Rev. 21). Children are polluted with hell-deserving uncleanness, and therefore unless it be purged with the blood of Christ, they have no interest in everlasting happiness. By this means sin is come upon all to condemnation, and yet we do not peremptorily censure to hell all infants departing out of this world without the laver of regeneration [i.e., baptism], the ordinary means of waiving the punishment due to this pollution. That is the question de facto, which we before rejected: yea, and two ways there are whereby God saveth such infants, snatching them like brands from the fire. First, by interesting them into the covenant, if their immediate or remote parents have been believers. He is a God of them, and of their seed, extending his mercy unto a thousand generations of them that fear him. Secondly, by his grace of election, which is most free and not tied to any conditions; by which I make no doubt but God taketh many unto him in Christ whose parents never knew, or had been despisers of the gospel. And this is the doctrine of our Church, agreeable to the Scriptures affirming the desert of original sin to be God’s wrath and damnation” (Owen: Arminianism, Ch. vii.). This is the salvation of infants by both covenanted and uncovenanted mercy, and Owen maintains that it is a tenet of Calvinism. That he does not assert the classical election of infants is true; but he asserts the individual election of some infants outside of the Church. 

     Such, then, is the Westminster doctrine of the Divine Decree. It is the common Augustino-Calvinistic doctrine. No part of it can be spared, and retain the integrity of the system. Whatever may have been the intention of the few first proposers of revision; or whatever may be the intention of the many various advocates of it who have joined them; the grave question before all parties now is, Whether the Presbyterian Church shall adhere to the historical Calvinism with which all its past usefulness and honor are inseparably associated, or whether it shall renounce it as an antiquated system which did good service in its day, but can do so no longer. The votes of the presbyteries within the coming six months will answer this question.

(William G. T. Shedd, Calvinism: Pure And Mixed: A Defence of the Westminster Standards, [New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1893], pp. 65-71.)


William G. T. Shedd:

We proceed now to consider the second question, How wide and extensive is his agency during this period? How many of the human family, have we reason from Scripture to hope and believe, he will regenerate here upon earth? 

     Before proceeding to answer this question, a preliminary remark is to be made. It is utterly improbable that such a stupendous miracle as the incarnation, humiliation, passion, and crucifixion of one of the Persons of the Godhead, should yield a small and insignificant result; that this amazing mystery of mysteries, “which the angels desire to look into,” and which involves such an immense personal sacrifice on the part of the Supreme Being, should have a lame and impotent conclusion. On a priori grounds, therefore, we have reason to conclude that the Gospel of the Cross will be successful, and the Christian religion a triumph on the earth and among the race of creatures for whom it was intended. But this can hardly be the case, if only a small fraction of the human family are saved. The presumption, consequently, is that the great majority of mankind, not the small minority of it, will be the subjects of redeeming grace. What, then, is the teaching of Revelation upon this subject? 

     1. In the first place, we have ground for believing that all of mankind who die in infancy will be regenerated by the Holy Spirit. The proof of this is not so abundant as for some other doctrines, but it is sufficient for faith. (a) Scripture certainly teaches that the children of the regenerate are “bound up in the bundle of life” with their parents. “The promise [of the Holy Spirit] is unto you and your children” (Acts 2:38, 39). “If the root be holy, so are the branches” (Rom. 11:16). “The unbelieving husband is sanctified by the wife, and the unbelieving wife is sanctified by the husband; else were your children unclean, but now they are holy” (1 Cor. 7:14). This is salvation by covenanted mercy, concerning which there is little dispute. (b) The salvation of infants outside of the covenant, is plainly supported by the language of Christ respecting “little children” as a special class. “They brought unto him infants that he would touch them. And he said, Suffer little children to come unto me, for of such is the kingdom of God” (Luke 18:15, 16). The reason here assigned why infants constitute a part of the kingdom of God is their infancy, not their moral character. They belong to it solely because they are “little children,” not because they are sinless. Our Lord teaches that they are sinful, in saying, “Suffer little children to come unto me;” for no sinless beings need to come to a Saviour. This phraseology respecting infants is as all-inclusive as that respecting the “poor in spirit,” and cannot be restricted to a part of them. When Christ says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven,” he means that this kingdom belongs to them as poor in spirit, and because they are poor in spirit, and consequently belongs to all the poor in spirit. And, similarly, when he says, “Suffer little children to come unto me, for of such is the kingdom of God,” he means that this kingdom is composed of such considered as little children, and because they are little children, and consequently is composed of all the little children. Had he intended to limit his statement to some infants, he would have said, ἐκ τῶν τοιούτων ἐστίν. Infancy is an age that is singled out by the Saviour by which to prove a membership in the kingdom of God from the very age itself, and is the only age. He does not say that youths or adults constitute a part of the kingdom of God solely because of their youth, or their manhood. Other Scripture proofs of the salvation of infants are, Matt. 18:10, 14, “Their angels do always behold the face of my Father in heaven. It is not the will of your Father which is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish.” In 2 Sam. 12:23, David is confident of the salvation of his infant child; but in 2 Sam. 18:33, he is not confident of the salvation of his adult son. In Jonah 4:11, God expresses a special interest in the infant population of Nineveh. 

     The Protestant Church understands the Bible to declare that all who die in infancy die regenerate. Probably all evangelical denominations, without committing themselves to the statements of the Westminster Confession concerning “election,” would be willing to say that all dying infants “are regenerated and saved by Christ through the Spirit, who worketh when, and where, and how he pleaseth” (Conf. x. 3). But this is the regeneration and salvation of one-half of the human family. This of itself pours over human existence a mild and cheering light. “Whom the gods love, die young,” said the heathen, without any knowledge of God’s compassion for man in his “dear Son.” Much more, then, may the Christian under the irradiation of the gospel expect that the infinite mercy of God, by “the washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Ghost,” will bring all the “little children” into holiness and heaven. The gloom of Virgil’s description,

“Continuo anditæ voces, vagitus et ingens 

Infantumque animæ flentes in limine primo,”

is changed into the brightness of that of the prophet, “The streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing in the streets thereof” (Zech. 8:10); and of the Redeemer’s citation from the Psalms, “Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise” (Matt. 21:16).

(William G. T. Shedd, Calvinism: Pure And Mixed: A Defence of the Westminster Standards, [New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1893], pp. 131-133.)


John Piper:

Will Infants Who Die Inherit Eternal Joy?

How will the suffering and death of children be set right? When I consider the final display of God’s justice at the day of judgment, I see God exercising a standard of judgment that opens the door for infants who die in this world to be saved from condemnation. I do not deny the sinfulness of every human from the moment of conception. “Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me” (Ps. 51:5). I believe that all humans are “appointed sinners” by Adam’s disobedience (Rom. 5:19, my translation). I believe God does no wrong when he takes the life of any child (Job 1:21-22). He owns it (Ps. 100:3) and may take it when he pleases (Dan. 5:23).

     Nevertheless, there is a standard of judgment that Paul expresses that causes me to think that God has chosen, and will save, those who die in infancy. That standard is expressed in Romans 1:19-20:

What can be known about God is plain to them [all people], because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse.

The words “so they are without excuse” show that God’s principle of judgment is that someone who does not have access to the knowledge Paul speaks of will indeed “have an excuse.” That access involves both the objective revelation in nature (which he says is fully adequate), and the natural ability in the observer to see and construe what God has revealed.[fn. 3: The term natural ability is used to distinguish this capacity from moral ability, which fallen people do not have, and which is not a prerequisite for moral accountability. Moral ability is the capacity to see the glory of God for the beauty that it is and be drawn to esteem it for what it is worth. But in our natural condition we are blind and thus lacking in this moral ability (2 Cor. 4:4). More on this distinction between natural and moral inability can found in Sam Storms’s article “The Will: Fettered Yet Free,” Desiring God, September 1, 2004, https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/the -will-fettered-yet-free. It is also clarifying to think of the term inability with the same contrasting modifiers, natural and moral. Here is how Jonathan Edwards distinguishes them: “We are said to be naturally unable to do a thing, when we can’t do it if we will, because what is most commonly called nature don’t allow of it, or because of some impeding defect or obstacle that is extrinsic to the will; either in the faculty of understanding, constitution of body, or external objects. Moral inability consists not in any of these things; but either in the want of inclination; or the strength of a contrary inclination; or the want of sufficient motives in view, to induce and excite the act of the will, or the strength of apparent motives to the contrary. Or both these may be resolved into one; and it may be said in one word, that moral inability consists in the opposition or want of inclination. For when a person is unable to will or choose such a thing, through a defect of motives, or prevalence of contrary motives, ‘tis the same thing as his being unable through the want of an inclination, or the prevalence of a contrary inclination, in such circumstances, and under the influence of such views.” Jonathan Edwards, Freedom of the Will, ed. Harry S. Stout and Paul Ramsey, vol. 1, The Works of Jonathan Edwards (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2009), 159-60.] The words “have been clearly perceived” in verse 20 imply that this natural ability involves a perception through mental reflection (νοούμενα καθορᾶται).

     What I am arguing is that infants don’t have this perception through mental reflection, and therefore do not have access to the revelation of God, and therefore will be treated by God as having an excuse at the judgment day. Not in the sense of being guiltless (because of original sin), but in the sense that God has established a principle of judgment by which he will not condemn those who in this life lacked access to general revelation. How he will save these infants is a matter of speculation. But it will be in a way that glorifies Jesus’s blood and righteousness as the only ground of acceptance with God (Rom. 3:24-25), and in a way that honors faith as the only means of enjoying this provision (Rom. 3:28; 5:1).[fn. 4: For a fuller defense of this position of infant salvation, see Matt Perman, “What Happens to Infants Who Die?,” Desiring God, January 23, 2006, https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/what -happens-to-infants-who-die.]

(John Piper, Providence, [Wheaton: Crossway, 2020], pp. 507-508.)



καὶ αὐτός ἐστιν πρὸ πάντων καὶ τὰ πάντα ἐν αὐτῷ συνέστηκεν ~ Soli Deo Gloria


Monday, June 13, 2022

Purgatory (Historical)


St. Cyril Lucaris, Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople (1572-1638 A.D.):

    We believe that the souls of the dead are either in blessedness or in damnation, according as every one hath done, for as soon as they move out of the body they pass either to Christ or into hell; for as a man is found at his death, so he is judged, and after this life there is neither power nor opportunity to repent; in this life there is a time of grace, they therefore who be justified here shall suffer no punishment hereafter; but they who die, being not justified, are appointed for everlasting punishment. By which it is evident that the fiction of Purgatory is not to be admitted but in the truth it is determined that every one ought to repent in this life and to obtain remission of his sins by our Lord Jesus Christ, if he will be saved. And let this be the end.

(St. Cyril Lucaris, “Confession of the Christian Faith”, Chapter 18; trans. George A. Hadjiantoniou, Protestant Patriarch: The Life of Cyril Lucaris (1572-1638): Patriarch of Constantinople, [Richmond: John Knox Press, 1961], p. 145.)

Cf. George A. Hadjiantoniou, Protestant Patriarch: The Life of Cyril Lucaris (1572-1638): Patriarch of Constantinople, [Richmond: John Knox Press, 1961], pp. 103-104. Cf. Idem, pp. 104-106.



καὶ αὐτός ἐστιν πρὸ πάντων καὶ τὰ πάντα ἐν αὐτῷ συνέστηκεν ~ Soli Deo Gloria


Monday, June 6, 2022

Sacraments and Symbols


Sacraments.



Note: See further: The Historical Understanding of: Signs, Types, Figures, Images, Sacraments, etc.


C. S. Lewis:

     It is of some importance to notice that the word symbolism is not adequate in all cases to cover the relation between the higher medium and its transposition in the lower. It covers some cases perfectly, but not others. Thus the relation between speech and writing is one of symbolism. The written characters exist solely for the eye, the spoken words solely for the ear. There is complete discontinuity between them. They are not like one another, nor does the one cause the other to be. The one is simply a sign of the other and signifies it by a convention. But a picture is not related to the visible world in just that way. Pictures are part of the visible world themselves and represent it only by being part of it. Their visibility has the same source as its. The suns and lamps in pictures seem to shine only because real suns or lamps shine on them: that is, they seem to shine a great deal because they really shine a little in reflecting their archetypes. The sunlight in a picture is therefore not related to real sunlight simply as written words are to spoken. It is a sign, but also something more than a sign: and only a sign because it is also more than a sign, because in it the thing signified is really in a certain mode present. If I had to name the relation I should call it not symbolical but sacramental.

(C. S. Lewis, “Transposition”; In: C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory: And Other Addresses, [Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1979], pp. 23-24.)


Stephen S. Smalley:

     In any case, the importance of symbolism to John cannot be doubted. He uses his own symbols in his own way; and he uses them to express and illuminate his particular theological understanding. But John does not stop with the symbolic; he also thinks in terms of the ‘sacramental’. The difference between these two concepts is important. A symbol, within the Christian context, evokes and represents that which is spiritual and divine; whereas a sacrament actually conveys, through the material elements involved, what is spiritual and divine. For example, when Jesus says, ‘whoever drinks of the water that I shall give him will never thirst’ (Jn 4:14), this may be described as a symbol of the life-giving power available to the believer through the living Christ. But when Jesus says, ‘I am the resurrection’ (Jn 11:25), and demonstrates this both by raising Lazarus from the dead, and by being himself raised from the tomb, this may be described as a part of the sacramental dimension to John’s Gospel.

…If we say, as we are doing, that John is a sacramentalist, this does not mean that he is concerned only about the two Sacraments of baptism and the Eucharist Rather, he is concerned more generally about ‘the sacramental’ — the fact that since the incarnation there can be a new dimension to life, and that as in the time of Jesus, so now, the spirit can give life to matter in a qualitatively new way. John focuses this understanding in the miracles of Jesus which he selects for our consideration, and which he treats sacramentally in association with the discourses. Symbolism is still involved, of course, in John’s over-all sacramental thought; so that when Jesus speaks of ‘eating the flesh of the Son of man and drinking his blood’, for example, we must assume (unless an exegesis is followed in this passage which interprets these words in terms of eucharistic transubstantiation) that he is using a symbol. However, the symbolic and the sacramental are obviously inter-related. But whereas the sacramental in John is always symbolic, not every symbol is sacramental.

(Stephen S. Smalley, John: Evangelist and Interpreter, [London: Paternoster Press, 1992], pp. 207, 208-209.)

Note: It should be observed that—at least in some limited sense—all symbols are sacramental.

Note: In Patristic literature the concepts are often used interchangeably.

E.g. Augustine, Bishop of Hippo (c. 354-430 A.D.): 

The sacraments [sacramenta] are things in which, not what they are, but what they show, is always attended to, since signs [signa] exist as one thing and signify another. 

(S. Augustini, Contra Maximinum Arianorum Episcopum, Liber Secundus (II), Caput XXII, §. 3; PL, 42:794; trans. Francis Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology: Volume Three, trans. George M. Giger, ed. James T. Dennison, Jr., [Phillipsburg: P & R Publishing, 1997], 19.3.2, p. 345. Cf. WSA, I/18:307.)

Note: See further: “The Historical Understanding of Sacraments” and “The Historical Understanding of Signs”.

Cf. Samuel Taylor Coleridge:

…a symbol (ὁ ἔστιν ἀεὶ ταυτηγόρικον) is characterized by a translucence of the special in the individual, or of the general in the special, or of the universal in the general; above all by the translucence of the eternal through and in the temporal. It always partakes of the reality which it renders intelligible; and while it enunciates the whole, abides itself as a living part in that unity of which it is the representative.

(Samuel Taylor Coleridge, The Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge: In Seven Volumes: Vol. I, ed. Professor Shedd, [New York: Harper & Brothers, 1854], The Statesman’s Manual, “A Lay Sermon,” pp. 437-438.)


C. J. Wright:

     The sacramental principle, in the truest sense of that much-abused phrase, pervades this whole Gospel. To the author, the visible is ever the medium of the invisible—for those who have eyes to see. No one has seen God at any time, but Jesus, the Word has declared Him—to those who have ears to hear. Everywhere in the Gospel there is this emphasis; and all human experience corroborates it. The physical is sacramental of the spiritual, but on spiritual conditions. The external will touch the spirit, but only through the spirit. The material will reach the centre of man’s spiritual being, but never of itself. Always and everywhere there is the condition of faith, of insight, of obedience. Without one’s five senses physical contacts mean nothing, and convey nothing. To a blind man a sunset is not sacramental. To a deaf man, a symphony is not sacramental—unless, like Beethoven, he has written it himself. Incense means nothing, conveys nothing, to one who has no sense of sight or of smell. The mind is reached through the body, but it is only in so far as the physical that is without can in some way speak to the consciousness that is within, that the outward can be sacramental. Nothing, in other words, is sacramental in and by itself. Grace is a spiritual gift, and requires spiritual conditions for its reception. If it were otherwise, both the Giver and the Gift were degraded—as also the receiver.

     The sacramental principle, so understood, dominates this passage. What is this ‘flesh’ of Jesus which is given to man to eat? What this ‘blood’ of Jesus, without which His hearers have no light in themselves? There is, without doubt, a eucharistic reference. But what does the reference mean? For ourselves, we agree with the late F. D. Maurice who said, speaking of this passage: ‘If you ask me, then, whether he is speaking of the Eucharist here, I should say, “No.” If you ask me where I can learn the meaning of the eucharist, I should say, “Nowhere so well as here.”’

     …What the Evangelist is seeking to do here is to express, in the vivid, realistic language that was becoming hallowed in the Church, the truth that the historic Jesus is the mediator—and supremely in His death—of that Divine sustenance required by the spirit of man if he is to know eternal life. When the author says ‘flesh’ and ‘blood,’ he no more means the physical realities which these denote than when he says that Jesus is ‘light,’ or ‘door,’ or ‘vine,’ or ‘bread’ or ‘water.’ The ‘flesh and blood’ represent in vivid, realistic manner Jesus Himself in His essential, and human, spirit of unique faith and of perfect obedience—which faith and obedience were supremely manifest in the Cross. There He gave His ‘flesh’ and ‘blood’; that is, there He dedicated His whole human self to God and to His fellows. To eat His flesh and to drink His blood is, therefore, to partake of His essential spirit: it is to ‘abide in him,’ and to have Him abiding in us (v. 56). This figure of ‘abiding’ in Him, and He in us, and He Himself in God, is found frequently in the later chapters of the Gospel, where it means what it here means. It signifies identification in moral and spiritual purpose. It is not something physical, or temporal, or local; it is unique something spiritual and eternal. Ignatius had understood this language when he wrote: ‘Do ye therefore arm yourselves with gentleness and be renewed in faith, which is the flesh of the Lord, and in love, which is the blood of Jesus Christ.’ Elsewhere the same Ignatius said that the Gospel is ‘the flesh of Jesus.’ Augustine in his moments of insight had seen this as when he said, in words which might have been spoken by the author of this Gospel: ‘Crede et manducasti,’ ‘believe, and thou hast eaten.’

(C. J. Wright, “Jesus: The Revelation of God;” In: The Mission and Message of Jesus: An Exposition of the Gospels in the Light of Modern Research, [New York, E. P. Dutton and Co., Inc., 1938], pp. 775-776, 776.)


Signs.


Ben Witherington III:

The dialogue with the crowd begins with a question about the time of Jesus’ arrival in Capernaum. Jesus does not respond to their spoken question, but rather to what he knows is on their heart: “You are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves.” Jesus is pursued as the ultimate provider of a free lunch! In other words, the reason for pursuing him was purely material and selfish; there was no altruism or spiritual seeking really involved. Apparently they hadn’t even discerned that Jesus was performing symbolic acts that pointed to a larger reality and meaning than mere physical sustenance. Since Jesus did, after all, perform the miracle of the e loaves and fish, it is not as if he is despising physical things or food, but rather that he wishes to use them to point to a food that is more sustaining, crucial, indeed, a food that endures to eternal life. The two-level discussion once more comes into play, but Jesus is portrayed as being willing to provide both physical and spiritual food, not just the latter. It is not, then, very helpful to talk about the Johannine Christ as being purely interested in spiritual things, nor is it helpful to simply call this the “spiritual” Gospel, not the least reason being because it is the Gospel that most clearly focuses on the incarnation. Rather the physical is meant to be seen as an icon of the spiritual, a window on a larger truth, a means to a greater end. No doubt this is a difficult lesson to learn for poor and hungry people who do not know the source of their next meal.

(Ben Witherington III, John’s Wisdom: A Commentary on the Fourth Gospel, [Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1995], p. 155.)



Symbols.



Samuel Taylor Coleridge:

…a symbol (ὁ ἔστιν ἀεὶ ταυτηγόρικον) is characterized by a translucence of the special in the individual, or of the general in the special, or of the universal in the general; above all by the translucence of the eternal through and in the temporal. It always partakes of the reality which it renders intelligible; and while it enunciates the whole, abides itself as a living part in that unity of which it is the representative.

(Samuel Taylor Coleridge, The Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge: In Seven Volumes: Vol. I, ed. Professor Shedd, [New York: Harper & Brothers, 1854], The Statesman’s Manual, “A Lay Sermon,” pp. 437-438.)


John Granger:

     A symbol is a transparency of a referent or reality greater than earthly reality and being: a transparency through which we can look or, by which some quality or grace of that referent, can enter the world and the minds and hearts of readers.

(John Granger, The Deathly Hallows Lectures, [Zossima Press, 2008], p. 29.)

John Granger:

     Symbols, rather than analogies for other earthly events, are transparencies through which we see greater realities than we can see on earth (see 1 Corinthians 13:12 and 2 Corinthians 3:18). The ocean as it stretches to the distant horizon is a symbol of the infinite power and breadth of the spiritual reality human beings call God. In seeing the one, we can sense the other. The ocean as a body of water has no power in itself to stir the heart; it’s just an oversized bathtub. But as a symbol of God, a way of seeing the unseeable, it can take our breath away or bring tears to our eyes.

     Symbols are windows, too, through which otherworldly realities (powers, graces, and qualities) intrude into the world. As Lings wrote, this is the traditional understanding of Creation—that all earthly things and events testify to “the invisible things of him from the creation of the world” (Romans 1:20, KJV). This testimony includes the power of natural beauty and grandeur (think of mountain ranges, a field of flowers, or a lion on the savanna). It also includes sacred art, architecture, and liturgy, which are by definition symbolic in their portrayal of greater than earthly realities.

     Christ, of course, speaks in story symbols, too, through his parables. He knows we cannot understand the truth as it exists, so he wraps these truths in edifying stories or windows we can look through in order to experience some likeness of truth. “These things have I spoken unto you in proverbs: but the time cometh, when I shall no more speak unto you in proverbs, but I shall shew you plainly of the Father” (John 16:25, KJV). Until we see things “face to face” (1 Corinthians 13:12), though, we have symbols to understand ourselves and Creation.

     The great revealed traditions teach that man, as an image and likeness of God, is a living symbol—both in the sense of transparency through which we look and of an opening through which God enters the world. Mankind is created in the image of God so that the world will reverence the God who cannot be seen (see 1 John 4:20 and the sequence of the Great Commandments in Mark 12:30-31). Humanity also is designed to be a vehicle of God’s grace, power, and love intruding into the world of time and space. The tragedy of man’s “fall” is that, because most people no longer believe they are symbols of God, shaped in his likeness, it is more difficult to see God in our neighbor, and the world is often denied access to God through his chosen vessels.

     We are still moved, however, by the symbols in nature and the symbols that we experience in story form. This is the power of myth: that we can experience invisible spiritual realities and truths greater than visible, material things in story form.

(John Granger, How Harry Cast His Spell: The Meaning Behind the Mania for J. K. Rowling’s Bestselling Books: Third Edition, [Carol Stream: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., 2008], pp. 93-94.)


Titus Burckhardt:

Symbolism indeed can best be described as the visible reflection of ideas or prototypes that cannot be fully expressed in purely conceptual terms. In this sense, St. Paul says: ‘For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.’ (1 Cor. 13;12.)

(Titus Burckhardt, “The Symbolism of the Mirror”; In: Titus Burckhardt, Mirror of the Intellect: Essays on Traditional Science & Sacred Art, trans. William Stoddart, [Albany: State University of New York Press, 1987], p. 118.)


Martin Lings:

     Since nothing can exist except in virtue of its Divine root, does that mean that everything is a symbol? The answer is yes and no—yes for the reason just given, and no because ‘symbol’ means ‘sign’ or ‘token’, which implies an operative power to call something to mind, namely its Archetype. In the light of the initially quoted verse Nor is there anything but glorifieth Him with praise, we could say that whether this or that can rightly be called symbolic depends on whether its ‘praise’ is powerful or faint. The word symbol is normally reserved for that which is particularly impressive in its ‘glorification’.

(Martin Lings, Symbol & Archetype: A Study of the Meaning of Existence, [Cambridge: Quinta Essentia, 1997], p. 6.)



The Phenomenal and Noumenal Realms.



Immanuel Kant:

     Appearances, so far as they are thought as objects according to the unity of the categories, are called phaenomena. But if I postulate things which are mere objects of understanding, and which, nevertheless, can be given as such to an intuition, although not to one that is sensible—given therefore coram intuitu intellectuali—such things would be entitled noumena (intelligibilia). . . . the division of objects into phaenomena and noumena, and so of the world into a world of the senses and a world of the understanding (mundus sensibilis et intelligibilis)...

(Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, trans. Norman Kemp Smith, [London: Macmillan and Co., Limited, 1929], A 249, pp. 265-266, 266.)



καὶ αὐτός ἐστιν πρὸ πάντων καὶ τὰ πάντα ἐν αὐτῷ συνέστηκεν ~ Soli Deo Gloria


The Patristic Understanding of the Sixth Chapter of the Gospel According to John as Spiritual not Carnal/Corporeal

Note: Last Updated 1/14/2025. Note: Click here for a list of the abbreviations used in the bibliographical citations. Outline: i. Prolegome...