Monday, February 19, 2018

Answering a technical argument for Concomitance

The doctrine of “concomitance” was proclaimed as a dogma at the Council of Constance (1414-1418). It teaches that under each species of the Eucharist, the entirety of Christ is found—that is, in the “substance” of the consecrated bread is not just the body of Jesus, but the body, blood, soul, and divinity of Jesus, and under the appearances of the consecrated wine, not just the blood, but the body as well as the blood, soul, and divinity. Therefore, if one partakes of the Catholic Eucharist under one of the species (as most of the laity do), they are partaking of the whole of Jesus.

In session XIII (June 15, 1415) of the Council of Constance, in opposition to the Utraquists (followers of Jan Hus) who argued for reception of the Eucharist under both species, we read:

626 [DS 1198] Since in some parts of the world certain ones have rashly presumed to assert that Christian people should receive the sacrament of the Eucharist under both species of bread and wine, and since they give communion to the laity indiscriminately, not only under the species of bread, but also under the species of wine, after dinner or otherwise when not fasting, and since they pertinaciously assert that communion should be enjoyed contrary to the praiseworthy custom of the Church reasonably approved which they try damnably to disprove as a sacrilege, it is for this reason that this present Council … declares, decides, and defines, that, although Christ instituted that venerable sacrament after supper and administered it to His disciples under both species of bread and wine; yet, notwithstanding this, the laudable authority of the sacred canons and the approved custom of the Church have maintained and still maintain that a sacrament of this kind should not be consecrated after supper, nor be received by the faithful who are not fasting, except in case of sickness or of another necessity granted or admitted by law or Church; [DS 1199] and although such a sacrament was received by the faithful under both species in the early Church, yet since then it is received by those who consecrate under both species and by the laity only under the species of bread [another reading: And similarly, although this sacrament was received by the faithful in the early Church under both species, nevertheless this custom has been reasonably introduced to avoid certain dangers and scandals, namely, that it be received by those who consecrate it under both species, and by the laity only under the species of bread], since it must be believed most firmly and not at all doubted that the whole body of Christ and the blood are truly contained under the species of bread as well as under the species of wine. [DS 1200] Therefore, to say that to observe this custom or law is a sacrilege or illicit must be considered erroneous, and those pertinaciously asserting the opposite of the above mentioned must be avoided as heretics and should be severely punished, either by the local diocesan officials or by the inquisitors of heretical depravity. (The Sources of Catholic Dogma, eds. Henry Denzinger and Karl Rahner [trans. Roy J. Deferrari; St Louis, Miss.: B. Herder Book Company, 1954], 211-12)

In a biblical attempt to defend this dogma, Catholic apologist Robert Sungenis wrote:

. . . On a related technical issue, the King James Version of 1Co 11:27 states: “whosoever eats the bread and drinks the cup...,” which has led some critics of the Catholic doctrine to insist that the conjunction “and” requires the partaking of both the consecrated host and cup. The original Greek of the passage, however, uses, “or,” not “and.” (“ἐσθίῃ τὸν ἄρτον ἢ πίνῃ τὸ ποτήριον” = “eats the bread or drinks the cup”). Catholic theologians provide a rational basis for this view. For example, Ludwig Ott writes: “Per concomitantiam (by concomitance), that is, on account of the real connection between the body and the blood of Christ, His blood and His soul are also present with the body of Christ under the form of bread, as He is a living body (concomitantia naturalis), and on the ground of the Hypostatic Union of His Divinity is also present (concomitantia supernaturalis). Similarly, under the form of wine besides His blood Christ’s body and soul and Divinity are also present by concomitance, cf., DS 876; ST, III, 76, 1 . . .” (Robert A. Sungenis, Not by Bread Alone: the Biblical and Historical Evidence for the Eucharistic Sacrifice [2d ed.; Catholic Apologetics International Publishing, Inc., 2009], 131 n. 136)

Sungenis is correct that the Greek uses η (“or”) and not και (“and”) in 1 Cor 11:27. However, Paul is stressing that, even if one partakes of only one of the elements of the Eucharist unworthily, they are condemned—they do not have to partake of both to be found guilty of partaking unworthily of the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper.

In 1 Cor 11:26, 28 Paul expects believers to partake of both elements in their celebration of the Eucharist, using και, not η:

For as often as ye eat this bread, and (και) drink this cup, ye do shew the Lord's death till he come . . . But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of that bread and (και) drink of that cup.

Scholars of the Eucharist and its theology (e.g., Edward Foley, From Age to Age: How Christians Have Celebrated the Eucharist [Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 1991]) admit that the bread and wine were consumed by all the congregation, and that the withholding of the cup from the laity is a much later development. Latter-day Saints and others are correct in expecting for the entirety of the congregation to partake of both elements of the Eucharist.

Commenting on the debates leading up to the dogmatic definition of Constance in 1415, Catholic scholar and priest, Nathan Mitchell, in an informative study on the worship of the Eucharist and its historical development, wrote the following about the Medieval-era debates about when consecration happens during the Mass:

When Does the Consecration Happen?

Berengarius died about 1088, and LanFranc about 1089; but for better or worse, eucharistic controversy did not die when they did. By the mid-twelfth century, most western theologians could agree that bread and wine are really changed into Christ’s body and blood, and that the change happens in virtue of the words of Christ spoken by the priest in the eucharistic prayer. But a new question then arose: what is the exact moment of consecration? Do all the words, for both bread and cup, need to be said before any change happens? Or is the bread already consecrated as soon as the priest has said “This is my body”?

To scholars of our own day, such questions seem poorly posed—and to Christians living outside academia they may sound absurd. But in the twelfth century such issues were taken very seriously. There appears to be, moreover, a direct connection between the debates about the moment of consecration and the liturgical custom of elevating the host at Mass. What were the theological issues involved in this controversy, and how did they contribute to the further development of eucharistic cult and devotion?

Three Schools of Thought

As V.L. Kennedy has assessed the evidence, three schools of thought about the moment of consecration emerged between the years 1160 and 1208.

The “safe” school: As Berengarius had discovered in the 1050s, theology can be hazardous to one’s health and reputation. In every age there seem to be theologians who prefer to hedge their bets, pursuing a safe course through theological thickets that are potentially dangerous. Such a theologian was Peter of Troyes, a scholar who taught at Paris during the 1160s and received the astonishing surname Comester (Peter the Eater). Peter developed a formula that circulated widely in Europe, possibly because it was sufficiently ambiguous to be considered safe, and sufficiently exact to be considered acceptable. The formula ran: quando totum dictum est, totus factum est—When everything has been said, everything has been done. This clever theological jingle left the door open just enough: it clearly affirmed that the consecration is accomplished by the words of Christ, but it left each person free to decide whether it happens all at once or separately (for the bread, then for the cup).

The “separate consecration” school: Peter’s formula left many theologians unsatisfied. Stephen Langton, who taught at Paris as early as 1180 and was later nominated as Archbishop of Canterbury (1206), preferred the view that each species is consecrated separately. In one of this Quaestiones, Stephen wondered why the church had not literally imitated the actions of Jesus: first consecration and distributing the bread, then the wine. But as a devout ecclesiastic, Stephen accepted the church’s actual practice (consecration of the species first; distribution later) and even tried defending it by suggesting that Jesus himself may actually have done the same thing. Other theologians, like Simon of Tournai, argued that each consecration (for bread, then for cup) is de facto independently effective, but that in actual practice (de debito) one cannot take place without the other.

The “single consecration” school: The champion of the third school was Peter, surnamed Cantor (the Singer). Peter the Singer was as clear as Peter the Eater had been ambiguous. If a priest were to stop after the words “This is my body,” Peter Cantor argued that no consecration would have taken place. His logic was straightforward:

A true body cannot exist without blood.
But there is no blood in this sacrament until the wine is consecrated;
Therefore, the bread is not truly consecrated until the entire formula for both species has been said by the priest.

In short, Peter was arguing that the two clauses of the consecratory formula are to interdependent that one is not effective without the other . . . If Christians kneel and adore the host before the wine has been consecrated, are they guilty of idolatry? Peter the Singer said yes, because at that point in the Mass, given his theory, bread is still only bread. (Nathan Mitchell, Cult and Controversy: The Worship of the Eucharist Outside Mass [Studies in the Reformed Rites of the Catholic Church, Volume IV; New York: Pueblo Publishing Company, 1982], 151-53)

Elsewhere, related to this (Ibid., 157-59), Mitchell discussed the development of “concomitance":

Debates over Concomitance and Initiation

Concomitance and Conversion

The Berengarian controversy had forced theologians to seek ways of expressing the church’s traditional faith that Christ is truly present in the eucharist in more abstract and precise theological language. This search for an acceptable theological language touched especially upon questions of change and presence in the sacrament. Earlier, we saw how Lanfranc tried to hammer out a language for eucharistic doctrine based on distinctions between appearances and truth, flesh and body, partial and total reality. We saw, too, the difficulties Berengarius had in dealing with the language of change in the sacramental elements.

During the period between 1160 and 1210, theologians began working with a technical distinction between concomitance and conversion. These words were aimed at clarifying how Christ is “whole and entire, body and blood, soul and divinity” present in each of the sacramental species. The question was closely related to the discussion about the exact moment of consecration, for it will be remembered that Peter the Singer’s objection to the “separate consecration” theory was that “a body cannot exist without blood,” and that no blood exists in the eucharist until the chalice has also been consecrated. As a way of overcoming Peter’s objection, theologians came up with the following distinction:

Concomitance: When the bread is consecrated into Christ’s body, it follows as a necessary consequence that the blood is also present, since it is true that a body cannot exist without blood. Christ’s blood is thus concomitantly or consequently present as soon as the bread is consecrated.

Conversion: When the cup is consecrated, however, there is a direct and immediate transformation or conversion of the wine into Christ’s blood.

This somewhat awkward distinction amounted to a partial concession to Peter’s objection: a body without blood is nothing more than a cadaver. At the same time, however, it allows adherents of the “separate consecration” school to maintain their viewpoint. For the distinction permitted a theologian to say that:

Christ’s blood is present under the species of bread through the mode of concomitance; hence it is perfectly acceptable for Christians to reverence and adore the host of the words “This is my body,” for the host contains the whole Christ, body and blood, soul and divinity.

Christ’s blood is present under the species of wine through the mode of immediate, direct conversion; hence the mode by which Christ’s blood is present in the consecrated wine differs from the mode by which it is present in the bread.

These distinctions seem very remote from the actual experience of most Christians in the eucharistic liturgy. But for better or worse, the theory of concomitance and conversion had a decisive impact on the shape of worship.

The eucharistic cup: In Chapter Three we saw the beginning of the gradual denial of the eucharistic cup to the laity during the Carolingian epoch. Now, in the late twelfth century, this custom was provided with a theological rationale. Since Christ’s blood is concomitantly present in the consecrated bread, the cup is unnecessary: lay persons receive the whole Christ, body and blood, when they receive in the species of bread alone. It is not surprising, therefore, that in the thirteenth century giving the cup to the laity declined even further.

Of course, the concepts of Transubstantiation and the Eucharist as a propitiatory sacrifice informs much of the dogma of concomitance. For more articles responding to Sungenis’ book (which is the best work defending the Mass, thus my focusing on it), focusing largely on these core dogmas, see:








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