Extremes meet in character.
I. SELF-CONFIDENCE AND WEAKNESS. What is a man without self-reliance? Yet it seems to fail, and offers no security in temptation. In a true self-reliance is contained dependence and trust. Confidence in our thought is right, if we recognize that our true views are revealed to us; that it is not we who think, but God who thinks in us. Separated from our root in God, whether in thought or will, we become mere individuals. Once isolate the picture of yourself and your powers and activities from the Divine whole to which it belongs, and it will soon be found that you are in a false position.
II. IMPETUOSITY AND DELIBERATION. We admire the generous eagerness of Peter, but it topples over into precipitous haste. And the hasty falsehood is followed by the deliberate persistence in it. Brazening it out one moment, the next he breaks into a flood of remorseful tears. "Who can understand his errors?" Easy to criticize Peter, not easy to act better. Let us humbly own that he represents us all, in greater or less degree. Our life oscillates between extremes. God can make profitable to us the experience of our sins and errors. The chemistry of his love can bring our tragic scenes to a happy ending.—J.
HOMILIES BY J.J. GIVEN
Parallel passages: Matthew 26:1-16, Matthew 26:21-25, Matthew 26:47-56; Luke 22:10-16, Luke 22:21-23, Luke 22:47-53; John 18:2-12; John 8:21-35—
The betrayal by Judas.
I. INTRODUCTION TO JUDAS. The individuality of Judas comes prominently before us in this chapter. We make his acquaintance in the house of Simon the leper in Bethany. We are introduced to him in connection with the alabaster box of ointment of spikenard very precious; for though not mentioned here by name, we know from the other evangelists that he was among those who felt indignant at the supposed waste of the ointment, and who expressed that indignation by murmuring against the worthy woman who had poured it on the Savior's head. Either Judas had muttered dissatisfaction, and others of the disciples, in their simplicity, concurred, or Judas was spokesman of others who, accustomed to scant ways and means, were surprised at what naturally enough appeared to such men extravagant expenditure. "When his disciples saw it, they had indignation," according to St. Matthew's narrative; "There were some that had indignation within themselves," is the record of St. Mark; "Then saith one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, which should betray him, Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred pence, and given to the poor?" is the explicit account furnished by St. John. There was only the one single point of contact between Judas and those of the other disciples who agreed with him about the matter of waste. Their motive differed from his; their thoughts were not his thoughts. The large-hearted liberality of this loving woman was, however, rightly comprehended by the Master himself, and justly commended by him. Our curiosity is not gratified by any particulars of information about Simon. Whether he was a brother of Lazarus, or a brother-in-law, being Mary's husband, or some other relative, or only a friend, we neither know nor need to know. The meaning of the epithet πιστικῆς is also little more than a matter of conjecture. Some of the Greek and Latin interpreters understand it to mean genuine or pure, and connect it with πιστός, faithful; others hold the meaning to be potable or liquid, from πίνω; while Augustine derives it from the name of the place whence it came, that is, Pistic nard. The Vulgate and Latin versions render it spicati, and similar, too is our English spikenard, as the name of fragrant oil extracted from the spike-shaped blossoms of the Indian nardus, or nard-grass. The costliness of this unguent was well known among the ancients; hence Horace promised Virgil a nine-gallon cask of wine for a small onyx box of this nard; while the evangelist informs us that the value of Mary's alabaster box of ointment was upwards of three hundred pence, that is, of Roman coinage, each denarius being equivalent to sevenpence halfpenny or eightpence halfpenny of English currency. The amount would thus be about ten guineas.
II. MARY'S LIBERALITY. This liberality of Mary had its origin in deep devotedness to our Lord, but her devotedness was the outcome of enlightened faith. She had a correct understanding of his character and claims. A believer in his Divine commission and in his kingly authority, she did not stumble as many at the prospect of his death. She knew he was to die, and hence she anticipated that sad event by the exceedingly expensive preparation in question. The custom of employing perfumes on such an occasion has an illustration in the record of King Asa in the sixteenth chapter of the Second Book of Chronicles, where we read, "They laid him in the bed which was filled with sweet odors and divers kinds of spices prepared by the apothecaries' art." The disciples of Christ surpassed the generality of their nation in the knowledge of, and belief in, his person as Messiah; but though they had full faith in his Messiahship, they still clung to the notion of a temporal kingdom, with all its high honors and earthly distinctions. From this arose the difficulty which they had in reconciling themselves to his death, or rather the stumbling-block which his death placed in the way of their faith, as the two disciples to whom Jesus joined himself on the way to Emmaus, after speaking of his death and crucifixion, added, "But we trusted that it had been he which should have redeemed Israel." Mary's faith excelled theirs as much as theirs excelled that of the Jews in general. Her faith did not fail in prospect of Messiah being cut off, her love was not chilled by the coming coldness of his death, nor did her hope go out like a taper in the darkness of his sepulcher. She believed that as Messiah Jesus would die and revive and rise and reign. She believed, and her faith worked by love. She believed, and therefore she poured the precious ointment ungrudgingly on her Savior's person.
III. THE BESETTING SIN OF THE TRAITOR. Judas is usually hold up as a monster of iniquity, and his sin regarded as something diabolical. While we would not diminish by one iota the heinousness of his sin, nor say one word in extenuation or mitigation of his guilt, we feel that, owing to certain exaggerated representations of his criminality, the lessons to be learnt from his character and conduct are to a large extent lost. On the contrary, if we carefully analyze his character and examine his career, we shall find much to learn, at least by way of warning, from the sad lesson of his life. Of course, by placing him outside the pale of humanity altogether, and regarding him more as a fiend than a man, we leave ourselves without any common measure whereby it is possible to compare his career with that of ordinary mortals. Now, we hold that he was just in roll with common men, though by his sin in its results he rose at last to such an exceptionally bad eminence. He was, as is admitted on all hands, a bad man, a wicked man, and a man as wretched as he was wicked. All the elements of evil in his character, however, may be resolved into one besetting sin, and that sin was avarice. His greed of gain was insatiable, and he loved gold much more than God. This inordinate love of money was the root of the evil in his nature. This love of money is a growing sin, for, as the old proverb has it, the love of money increases as much as the money itself increases—nay, it usually increases much faster. He was naturally avaricious, and he gave full swing to his natural disposition. Here we learn a lesson of the greatest utility and of very general application. In the Epistle to the Hebrews we read of "the sin which doth so easily beset us." The case of Judas exemplifies the baneful tendency and the fatal result of such a single besetting sin. Most people have some propensity in excess, some strong passion, some evil principle in their nature more likely to overpower them than any other. It is of vital importance to ascertain what the weak point is, in what direction it lies, and where the risk of entanglement is greatest. A physician is careful in the very first instance to discover the seat of the patient's disease, and its nature. So we should look carefully into our heart and out upon our life till we find out the source of weakness; and once it is discovered—nor can the discovery be a matter of any difficulty to the honest inquirer—we must be ever on our guard against it, and use every available means to fortify ourselves in that particular quarter. However strong our character may be otherwise and in other respects, one besetting sin, unless resisted and shunned, will ruin all. One weak link will spoil the strongest chain, and no chain is stronger than its weakest link; one small opening in a dam will flood a district, or even a province.
IV. OFFICIAL DIGNITY, OFFICIAL DANGER. It often happens that a man is placed exactly in that situation in life which, owing to his peculiar disposition, is fraught with greatest danger to him. Thus, for good and wise ends, God in his providence is pleased to try us, as gold is tried, that we may be proved and purified and strengthened. When so situated we need to seek daily increase of faith that we may be kept from falling, and constant supplies of grace that it may be sufficient for us. Judas had been clever at finance, and in consequence became bursar of the little society. This situation of purse-bearer was one of extreme danger to a man like Judas; his hand was too often in the purse, his fingers were too frequently on the coins it contained. With such an opportunity without and such a disposition within, what, in the absence of restraining grace, could be expected? His greedy disposition, combined with the temptation of his office, was too much for him; his covetousness developed into thievishness. He failed to check the evil propensity; he did not resist the strong temptation. The first act of pilfering was committed. The Rubicon was crossed; the line of demarcation between honesty and dishonesty became fainter and fainter, and was gradually effaced. Other acts of petty pilfering succeeded; and though we have little reason to suppose that the disciples' purse had ever been a deep or heavy one, or that it ever contained more than supplied the bare necessaries of daily life, yet we have much reason to believe that the paltry peculations of the purse-bearer were a constant drain upon it. "He was a thief," our Lord tells us plainly, "and carried the bag." Here we have a second lesson, which is the absolute necessity of resisting the first temptation to evil; for as the habit grows by indulgence, the power of temptation diminishes by resistance.
V. DISAPPOINTED AMBITION. The chief attraction to Judas had probably been the prospect of a temporal king and earthly kingdom; and thus of some lucrative position or highly remunerative office in the service of that king and in the affairs of that kingdom. Others of his fellow-disciples had been looking forward to posts of honor—to sit on thrones in the future Messianic kingdom. Judas eared less for honor than for profit, and however he may have esteemed such honor, it was mainly as the way to wealth. But now our Lord had referred in terms unmistakable, once and again, to his death and burial, this gave a rude shook to the hopes of the traitor, and seemed to cut off at once and for ever the prospect of worldly gain. This was a bitter disappointment to the greedy spirit of Judas; the cup of plenty was rudely dashed away as he was about to raise it to his lips; the time of discipleship he looked upon as a dead loss; his profits had been small at best, but the prospect of improving his circumstances is now blighted; and his occupation is gone. Tantalizing, and even torturing, as all this must have been to him, another disappointment, though of a minor sort, is added. A sum of three hundred denarii, or more, that is to say, upwards of ten guineas, had been profusely lavished in a way and for an object with which he had not the least possible sympathy, nay, in a manner as he thought highly reprehensible. It was sheer waste, and worse, for no one gained anything; the poor were not benefited—"not that he cared for the poor," except as a matter of hypocritical pretense; he himself missed the disbursement of a sum from which he could have appropriated a percentage that might have been a crumb of comfort in present disastrous times and during the dull days he must now look forward to. But there was even more than this; he must have felt himself by this time an object of suspicion; conscience must have made him aware of this; he must have known that the Master, at all events, saw through the thin disguises that concealed his real character from ordinary eyes. He did not feel at home with the brotherhood; and, his occupation being gone, a spirit of recklessness was creeping over him. Besides, he was stung into hostility by the severe but well-deserved reproof which our Lord now saw right to administer to him. "The poor always ye have with you," said our Lord; and it was thus hinted that it was his duty—part of his duty—part of his office—to look after them, and that opportunity was never wanting for that purpose. Thus wrought on, Judas bethought himself that it was high time to look to his own interests; and, having failed in one direction, to try the opposite.
VI. WARNINGS WASTED. It is truly astonishing what effect the continued indulgence of a single sin has in hardening the heart, searing the conscience as with a hot iron, blinding the mind, and banishing for a time at least all feelings of shame and even of common humanity. The black crime soon to be committed had cast its shadow before. More than one hint had been given, more than one warning note had been sounded; but all to no purpose. The first intimation appears to have been after our Lord had washed the disciples' feet, impressing by that expressive symbolic action the great lesson of humility on all his followers. On that occasion he said, "Now ye are clean, but not all" (John 13:10). In the second section of this chapter, where the traitor is again referred to, words of warning still more distinct are uttered: "One of you which eateth with me shall betray me;" and while all of them, "one by one," as St. Mark particularly mentions, deprecated with surprise and sorrow such an impeachment, asking, "Is it I?" or literally, "It is not I, is it?" Judas had the amazing effrontery to pretend innocence, and ask with the rest, "Is it I?" The intimation about the betrayer being "one of the twelve, he that dippeth with me in the dish," and the individual who should receive the sop, may have been whispered into the ear of the beloved John, and through him to Peter; but the final fearful warning was uttered aloud and in the hearing of all. And yet that terrible sentence, "Woe to that man by whom the Son of man is betrayed! good were it for that man if he had never been born," had no effect on him; at all events, it failed to shake his diabolical purpose. It is possible that during the first shower of questions—each asking, "Is it I?"—Judas had sat silent, either sullenly through contempt, or conscious-stricken; that subsequently, with an air of careless coldness, and in order to conceal the confusion of the moment, he asked not, "Lord, is it I?" but "Rabbi, is it I?" when he received the answer, "Thou hast said," in the affirmative, unheard perhaps except by the disciples John and Peter, who sat close by. The expression, too, which our Lord added, namely, "What thou doest, do quickly," though heard by all, was misunderstood, and referred by them to directions about the purchase of requisites for tomorrow's feast, or making distribution to the poor; but it must have been perfectly comprehended by the traitor himself. At all events, on receiving the sop, he went out immediately, and, in spite of all, pursued his foul and fiendish purpose. All these checks, all these warning, were utterly ineffectual. His besetting sin, growing like the mountain snowball, and gathering within its compass other elements, as disappointment, resentment, ingratitude, and envy, had now become too powerful to be overcome. The sin that might have been checked effectually at the first had now become uncontrollable; the evil one, who might have been successfully resisted at the commencement, had now gained complete mastery over this wretched man. To such a fearful extent was this the case, that the evangelist informs us that "Satan entered into him." In no other way, as it seems, could the enormity of his crime be accounted for. No wonder it is added, "And it was night." It was night with earth and sky—night with all its darkness, night with that dark heart of the traitor, night in every sense with that unhappy man! How all this inculcates, as another and a third lesson, the importance of cultivating prayerfulness of spirit, and enforces the necessity of praying frequently and praying fervently, "Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one"!
VII. ANOTHER SCENE IN THE TRAITOR'S LIFE. We now open another chapter in his history. The bargain is struck, the sum weighed and delivered, and in the paltry sum thus realized we have another proof of the grovelling spirit of this unspeakably mean and mercenary man. He has secured the thirty pieces of silver, or thirty shekels—some £3 15s. of British money. Both parties seem satisfied with the bargain. The chief priests are glad of the promised opportunity of arresting in private him whom the dread of popular tumult or probable rescue prevented them arresting in public. Public opinion was still so favorable to the Prophet from Galilee, and had such force, that, hostile as the Jewish authorities were, they dreaded, and with good reason, the risk of a public apprehension. Judas, too, is content with his pieces of silver. We almost fancy we see him, like Milton's picture of Mammon in the nether world, eyeing with furtive, downcast glance the proceeds of his bargain. But the satisfaction of the wicked seldom lasts long. We scarcely think that Judas at first realized the consequences of his wickedness; we cannot believe that he at all anticipated the sequel of his crime. Perhaps he thought that he who had wrought so many miracles would work one in self-defense, and not allow himself to be apprehended; or perhaps he thought that, if arrested, he would escape out of the hands of those who came to apprehend him; or it may be he thought Jesus would now be forced to set up the expected kingdom. All his calculations are at fault.
VIII. THE ACTUAL BETRAYAL AND APPREHENSION. Some two hours have elapsed from the revelation of the traitor and his departure from that upper room, when a motley multitude of men, armed with swords and staves-some of them Levitical guards from the temple, others Roman soldiers from the tower of Antonia, together with priests and elders—is marching down the hillside from Jerusalem to the valley of the Kidron. Already they have crossed the brook and reached the garden. But what mean those lanterns, for the Paschal moon is at the full? Perhaps the moon was obscured by clouds, or shining dimly that night; or the deep shadows of the hills and rocks and trees made the light of the lanterns necessary. The concerted signal was not really needed, owing to our Lord's forwardness to meet his fate. Had he pleased, he might have frustrated the attempt, as by a word he felled them to the earth (John 18:6); he might have ordered to his help twelve legions of angels, had he been unwilling to suffer. And yet, willing as he was to suffer, he is equally willing to save; his sufferings were in our stead, and for our sake. His ready willinghood to undertake for us and die for us assures us of equal willinghood to have the benefit of those sufferings transferred to us. The traitor's kiss, which was a fervent one ( κατεφίλησεν), was the signal for arrest. From this we learn the terms of familiarity and friendship that existed between Christ and his disciples. Nor is he changed, or become colder in his friendship for his true followers; he is as cordial as ever, and still bends on earth a Brother's eye. His address to Judas, however, is too strongly expressed in the Common Version. The term "friends" ( φίλοι) he reserves for his true disciples; the word addressed to Judas is ἑταῖρε, which signifies "companion" or acquaintance, and does not necessarily imply either respect or affection.
IX. THE COWARDICE OF SIN. Cowardice is generally associated with sin, so true it is that "sinful heart makes feeble hand." Our first parents, after their sin against God, hid themselves among the trees of the garden. The chief priests and elders, with the captains, are here charged by our Lord with cowardice. "Be ye come out," he asks, "as against a brigand or bandit ( λῃστήν), with swords and staves?" Had he been an evil-doer, why did they not apprehend him publicly in the broad light of day as he taught in the temple? Poor, sinful souls! their cowardly spirits shrank from this; the power of public opinion, or the dread of a rescue, or the danger of a riot, they could not brave; but now skulkingly, secretly, stealthily, at the dead hour of night, they came upon the Savior by surprise, with a strong posse of men well armed. Their sin was seen in their cowardice. Our Lord is now in the hands of his enemies. He had healed the servant's ear—the right ear (St. Luke and St. John)—having asked freedom to stretch forth his arm to touch and heal the wounded ear, saying, "Suffer ye thus far;" if the words do not mean—Excuse resistance to this extent. Judas has betrayed him; all the disciples—even John the beloved and Peter the brave—have forsaken him and fled!—J.J.G.
Parallel passages: Matthew 26:17-19, Matthew 26:26-29; Luke 22:7-13, Luke 22:19, Luke 22:20; 1 Corinthians 11:23-34.—
The old dispensation merging in the new.
I. THE PASSOVER AND THE INSTITUTION OF THE SUPPER.
1. Comparison of the records. The memorial Passover differed from the Egyptian or original Passover in several points. A still greater change is now made. The substance now takes the place of the symbol. The antitype supersedes the type. The true Paschal Lamb—Christ our Passover, about to be sacrificed for us—being come, the Jewish Paschal lamb disappears. The unleavened cakes and wine, formerly only secondary and subordinate, now become the primary and principal elements of the feast, as representing the body and blood of the Lamb to be slain. The idea of Christ's sacrificial death, previously intimated with more or less clearness, is now fully exhibited. In the fact of the particulars being foretold there is a close resemblance to that prediction which preceded the triumphal entry. The record of the Lord's Supper is fourfold. It is, recorded by three evangelists and by one apostle. These are the evangelists Matthew, Mark, and Luke; with Paul, the apostle of the Gentiles. Some points are brought out more fully or distinctly in one, and some in another, of these; accordingly, a brief comparison of their respective records with each other helps to a better understanding of the whole.
(a) St. Matthew and St. Mark say simply, "This is my blood of the new testament, St. Luke and St. Paul introduce the word "cup," and alter the arrangement of the sentence, in this way rendering the whole clause clearer and more explicit; thus, "This cup is the new testament [more correctly ' covenant,' Revised Version] in my blood." Mark alone
(b) supplements the accounts of the other evangelists by stating the fact, "They all drank of it."
2. The Author of this ordinance. The Lord Jesus Christ is the Author of this solemn institution; both evangelist and apostle refer its appointment to him. He is sole King and Head of his Church. His kingship is the result of a Divine decree. "I have set my King," says Jehovah, "on my holy hill of Zion." The government, both legislative and executive, is in his hand, as the prophet had foretold, "and the government shall be upon his shoulders." He is also "Head over all things to the Church." Not only so; this ordinance in particular is his special appointment, for it is the memorial of his death, and keeps the memory of his dying love green in the Christian's soul. To him, therefore, we owe its institution, the manner of its observance, the time of its continuance, and the persons admissible to its enjoyment. Nor is there any ordinance more closely identified with the Savior than this ordinance of the Supper. He is its "all in all," its Alpha and Omega. The words are his, and speak of him; the symbols are his, and point to him; the blessings embodied are his, being the purchase of his blood; the praise is his, for "unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood,… to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever." The new covenant, with all its benefits, present and prospective, is his, for he ratified it.
3. Abuses. Little more than a quarter of a century had elapsed when human abuses were beginning to overlay this holy ordinance in the Church of Corinth, so common is it for man to leave an impure print on all his hand doth touch. A reformation of the holy rite had become necessary, and a republication followed. The abuses removed, and the ordinance restored to its original simplicity and sanctity, St. Paul received it by revelation, and republished it in his First Epistle to the Corinthian Church, as he says, "For I have received of the Lord that which also I delivered unto you." With this fresh publication of it, we have a fuller exposition of its nature, and increased obligation for its observance; while it is restamped, as it were, with the seal, and resanctioned by the signature of the Church's Head.
4. The time of its appointment. The time of its appointment was "the same night in which he was betrayed." This of itself, apart from all other evidence, is proof positive that Jesus was more than man. It was the night when the Jewish Sanhedrim concerted measures for his apprehension; when chief priests and scribes and rulers were planning his condemnation and plotting his death; the night when one of his own disciples played the part of traitor and betrayed him into the hands of his deadliest foes; when another disciple denied him, and all forsook him; the night when he was to be delivered to his persecutors—to their malice and mockery and the worst tortures that their malevolence could devise.
"'Twas on that night, when doom'd to know
The eager rage of every foe,
That night in which he was betray'd,
The Savior of the world took bread."
It was the eve of his crucifixion; nor were the events of the coming morrow unknown to him. From the unrelenting hatred of his enemies, and the steady purpose of their persecuting fury, he might have anticipated them; he might, without much risk of error, have forecast them. But with him it was no forecasting of probabilities; he clearly foresaw all, and consequently in a measure foretasted all. Had he been a weak mortal and nothing more, the certainly approaching danger and disaster must have occupied his thoughts and oppressed him with grief. In this case he would have been insensible to the wants, and incapable of administering to the comforts, of others; he would have been too much occupied with himself and his own position to spare any thought for the concerns, or make any provision for the consolation, of his friends. On the contrary, instead of concentrating his thoughts on himself and the crisis just at hand, his thoughts were engrossed with his followers then, thenceforth, and onward for ages yet to come. All his thoughts, all his feelings, all his sympathies, were enlisted on the side of his disciples, and exercised for their benefit. The self-abnegation that had characterized the whole course of his life became yet more conspicuous, if that were possible, at the period when he came within measurable distance of death and dissolution. Self was absolutely lost sight of, the interests of his people bulked so largely that they occupied the whole field of vision.
5. A comparison. A comparison has frequently been instituted between the life and teaching of the Savior and Socrates-between the Prince of peace and the prince of pagan philosophers. Their respective sentiments on the eve of execution may for a moment be compared, or rather contrusted, here. On the part of Socrates we find a sort of posthumous ambition, present doubt, and practical indifference. There was posthumous ambition; for he allowed his vanity to be flattered by reckoning on the praises of posterity, and referred, with a feeling half of self-gratulation and half akin to revenge, to the false position in which his death would be sure to place his enemies, and especially his accusers. There was present doubt; for beautifully as he reasoned on the subject of immortality and a future state on previous occasions, now, in the presence of the great change, he doubted whether he himself or his friend Crito, who was to survive him, were likely to fare better. There was practical indifference; for the interests of his family and the upbringing of his children appear to have cost him little or no concern. With our Lord, on the other hand, there was no borrowing of comfort from the praises of posterity; his chief concern was for the well-being of posterity. There was no shadow of a cloud upon futurity; all was bright and blissful there. There was, instead of indifference, the deepest and most absorbing concern for the spiritual well-being and everlasting welfare of his friends and followers through all coming time. Far be it from us to undervalue the sage of Athens—he was one of the lights of heathendom; but we find him to the last human, intensely human; while Jesus was both Divine and human—unmistakably Divine, and yet truly human.
6. Use of monuments. Monuments draw attention to the facts of history and to the incidents of biography. How many thousands there are who would never have heard of Nelson, or Wilberforce, or Wellington; or who would have remained ignorant of their great achievements, and of the stirring times in which they lived, were it not for the monuments erected to their memory! How many have had their minds directed by some monument or other memorial to the life and times of men of whom otherwise they would never have heard even the names, or studied the history, or reflected on the lives however eventful! Thus it is, in a higher sense, with the institution of the Supper; it is a monument to Christ, and helps to keep up the remembrance of him, which would else have been more or less forgotten. It reminds men of his death, and shall continue to do so till he come again; it reminds us of the debt of obedience we owe to his dying command, "Do this in remembrance of me;" it reminds us, too, of a day when he will come "to be glorified in his saints, and admired in all them that believe."
II. THE NATURE OF THE ORDINANCE. A sacrament, not a sacrifice. The Lord's Supper is a sacrament, not a sacrifice. We reject and reprobate the teaching of those who regard the bread and wine in the Lord's Supper as a sacrifice—the so-called sacrifice of the Mass or the offering up of the bread and wine converted into the flesh and blood of Christ; and who represent it as a bloodless, yet true, proper, and propitiatory sacrifice for both the living and the dead. Nothing could be more contrary to or contradictory of the Word of God. In forming a correct notion of this ordinance, of which the passage before us contains the institution, it may be helpful to clear away the rubbish which, in the course of time, accumulated round it. In doing so it may be well to state what it is not, and then what it is—to exhibit the negative side of this sacrament, and then the positive.
1. In the first place, then, we reject the doctrine of transubstantiation held by the Latin Church. This doctrine, first formulated by the Abbot of Corbey, Paschasius Radbert, in the beginning of the ninth century, first denominated transubstantiation by Hildebert of Tours in the beginning of the twelfth century, and made an article of faith by the Lateran Council in the beginning of the thirteenth century, means the conversion or change of the elements of bread and wine into the real body and blood of our Lord. We repudiate this dogma