Sacraments and New Testament law

Christians believe that Jesus commanded us to baptize new Christians. However, there is a fundamental division in views: some Christians (such as Catholics and the Orthodox) have a sacramental view of baptism, on which baptism as such leads to an actual supernaturally-produced change in the person baptized, while others hold a symbolic view of it.

Here is an argument for the sacramental view. We learn from Paul that there is a radical change in God’s law from Old to New Testament times. I think our best account of that change is that we are no longer under divinely-commanded ceremonial and symbolic laws, but as we learn from the First Letter of John, we are clearly still under the moral law.

On the symbolic view, however, baptism is precisely a ceremonial and symbolic law—precisely the kind of thing that we are no longer under. On the sacramental view, however, it is easy to explain how baptism falls under the moral law. Love of neighbor morally enjoins on us that we provide effective medical treatment to our neighbor, and love of self requires us to seek such treatment for ourselves. Similarly, if baptism is crucial to the provision of grace for moral healing, then love of neighbor morally enjoins on us that we baptize and love of self requires us to seek baptism for ourselves.

The same kind of argument applies to the Eucharist: since it is commanded by God in New Testament times, it is not merely symbolic.

The sacramentality of assertion

Some Catholic thinking about sexuality goes something like this:  There is a sacramentality to the marital act.  The giving of self to another, and the seeking of the other's receiving and reciprocation, is a symbol of the union between God and his people, and maybe even has a Trinitarian significance of imaging the self-giving and generative nature of God.  This, in turn, suggests that mixes up holding-back with self-giving and expresses love in a context in which one is fighting against one's generative striving, producing a parody rather than image of Trinitarian love.

I think it is worth thinking about the sacramentality in assertion as well.  In assertion, one reaches out to offer one's testimony, inviting the other to receive one's testimony in trust.  This is some sort of an image of the Father's sending his Word to us in time, to offer his truth to sinners, some of whom will accept him with trust and some of whom will reject him.  It is even an image of the Father's eternal generative speaking of his Word.  There is a kind of sacrilege, then, when one knowingly asserts falsely.  One is parodying the life of the Trinity rather than imaging it.  One is being faithless to those whose faith one is inviting by one's testimony.

It does not matter that the end for which one contracepts or lies is good.  To do something that parodies the life of the Trinity is wrong regardless of what further end it subserves.

Of course, in both the case of marriage and speech prudence is called for.  One can legitimately refrain from marital union or from assertion when it would be imprudent to generate children or communicate truth.  To do that does not image, in the relevant respect, the life of the Trinity, but also does not parody it.  We cannot image the life of the Trinity in all its respects anyway--we are but finite.  And when refraining for the sake of a virtue V, say, the virtue of prudence, from imaging the life of the Trinity in one respect, we are thereby imaging the life of the Trinity in a respect shown by V.  And even when cannot image the life of the Trinity in some respect, we can and must refrain from parodying it.

There is a cost to doing the right thing here, and the tragic cases are where the cost will be borne by others.  But that is how it is in our world.  The cost of Christ's birth was borne by many a newborn and his family.  Yet we honor them as the Holy Innocents, for they have received the salvation that came through Christ's incarnation.  And likewise the benefit of the Christian's imaging in truthfulness and sexual integrity the life of the Trinity extends mysteriously to all by the communion of the saints.

This is some sort of a reply to Janet Smith's article on lying in First Things, which saddened me much as I greatly respect her work in sexual ethics.

Babette's Feast

I showed Babette's Feast once again. I was this time struck by the nuanced critique of a religion of the word. The congregation to a large extent has a religion of the word—sometimes spoken and sometimes sung.

The word spoken, by itself, is not enough, even when it is the right word. Lorens, the young officer, is able to take the devout words and use them to rise socially. (I am reminded of Aquinas' remark that without grace even the Gospels would be dead and useless.) Still, the word when spoken in the right spirit can avail much: there is clearly much good in the congregation and its pastor, and the pastor's words are an occasion of grace.

Nor does singing the word suffice. Singing in and of itself avails little, as the episode with Papin suggests, but when the right words are spoken in the right spirit, again we see that much is accomplished for the sake of the community. But it is not enough.

The daughters of the pastor add good deeds to the mix. Much good is achieved. But all this, while very good, is not enough. The right word is spoken and sung, in the right spirit, and accompanied with good works. But the congregation's love still threatens to fall to pieces around old animosities. Even a religion of word and deed is not enough: one needs the love-feast, the eucharist, the sacrament.

Each of the three is essential. The pastor brings the word. His daughters continue to hold on to his word, trying to keep at alive in the community, and giving it flesh in their charitable deeds. But Babette puts it all together, integrating word and deed into sacrament. And now the congregants reconcile to each other, and unity is restored. But the word did prepare the way for this, and the reconciliation in many cases is accomplished through words. It is all needed.