Transubstantiation and consubstantiation equally infer the ubiquity of Christ's physical body, a matter which Calvin now begins to address. The notion that Christ's physical body (in Bethlehem's manger, on the cross, resurrected in walking along the Galilean shore) is in every place at the same time implies that what was (is) seen is a phantasm. With a double edged sword, Calvin suggests this is "raise Marcion from hell") - since the second-century heretic had advocated such a view and been condemned as a heretic in Roman Catholic tradition.
Calvin's doctrine of the Supper, often (too often!) referred to (incorrectly) as one of "real presence" is one of communion with Christ crucified and resurrected. It's focus on the bodily nature of this communion (there is no other Christ with whom we may commune other than the [bodily, enfleshed] risen Christ) begs the question as to the association of the sign (bread, wine) with the body (flesh, blood) of Christ: first, the Roman doctrine of transubstantiation. Christ's body is in heaven and will remain there until the Second Coming.
Following Elijah’s stunning victory over the prophets of Baal in 1 Kings 18, he turns his attention to drought that continued to linger over the land. Back in 1 Kings 17, Elijah had announced a drought on the land because of the apostasy of the people. They had backed into Baalism and paganism. And their failure to remain faithful to the Lord carried the judgment of God removing his word from the people, signified by the lack of rain or dew. This was also a polemic against Baal, the storm god. The Baal cycle would be broken and the LORD would show himself to be God.
"With which person in the Bible do you most identify?" This is a question I have often asked others in the church over the years. Most of us lack even enough self-awareness to able to answer the question. Others among us have a propensity to appeal to the best characters in Scripture.
In an oft-quoted passage, Charles Spurgeon reflects on the nature of his calling as a pastor:
The last few years have seen a significant – and most welcome – revival of interest in the Christian doctrine of God among Reformed and evangelical writers. Scholars working in patristic, medieval, and Reformation periods have enriched our knowledge of the creedal and confessional heritage of the church; and, as our knowledge of what the creeds and confessions meant has deepened, many of us have become acutely aware of the (unintentionally) heterodox and even heretical nature of many of our own previous beliefs on these matters.
Fashion Theology. Robert Covolo. Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2020. 216 pp.
The Korean Revival and Following Persecution
Hamu Lujonza Kaddu Mukasa and the Early Church in Uganda
From Mukasa to Hamu
Have you ever secretly thought that Jesus’ first miracle is a bit of a letdown? The audience is small, the master of the feast does not even know something supernatural has taken place, and it seems the main takeaway from the guests is the quality of wine. Many people fixate on ancillary details of this miracle— the way Jesus speaks to His mother, the alcoholic nature of the wine— and it’s easy to miss the glory wrapped up in this passage as Jesus bursts onto the scene as the initiator of the new covenant.
Disciplines and vocations have access points. When you enter college as an economics major you start with Economics 101. When you begin an exercise program for the first time you hire a trainer or as an experienced friend for help. You may even read a basic book on nutrition. Why? Because you are seeking to enter a world with which you lack familiarity. But that’s not only true of our occupation and other disciplines it true of books. It is especially true of the Bible. I don’t know many people who encourage a new believer to read Numbers or Leviticus.