I.
On Jordan’s banks the baptist cries, “Behold, the Lamb of God [Latin: Agnus Dei] who takes away the sins of the world!” This he says while beholding, not a lamb, but a man— the man Jesus, the Son of God and Christ of the world. As such we understand that this is a deeply theological statement, a confession of the promise of God. In order to understand this promise of the New Testament we must return to the giving of the promise in the Old Testament. This return takes us all the way back to the book of Genesis, to the patriarch of faith, Abraham. By faith Abraham leaves his country and kindred for a land unseen. By faith Abraham dwells in this land of promise as a sojourner while yet looking forward to that everlasting city whose designer and builder is God. By faith he conceives a child with Sarah in their old age because they considered God who promised faithful. But when we arrive at the end of Abraham’s life we arrive at the greatest testing of faith that Abraham ever endured and at the hand of God himself.
Genesis 22 begins, “After these things, God tested Abraham…” God commands Abraham, “Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains which I shall tell you.” And without so much as a word of discussion or protest, Abraham does. He rises early in the morning, without delay, saddles his donkey, enlists his servants, and rouses his son for the journey. After three days, Mount Moriah comes into view and Abraham and Isaac begin their ascent with fire and wood. This ascent is marked by a singular question, the only spoken line of Isaac during this whole affair, “My father, behold, the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?” To which Abraham replies, and we note well, “God will provide for himself the lamb for a burnt offering, my son.” Most consider this to be a simple case of deception, but this interpretation disregards the fact that Abraham is a prophet, and what he promises is a lamb. At the top of the mountain, Abraham builds the altar, arranges the wood, binds his son, and draws the knife to slay his son. In the nick of time, the Angel of the Lord, who is the pre-incarnate Christ(!), stops Abraham and says, “Do not lay a hand on the boy… for now I know that you fear God, seeing you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me.” Upon hearing this Abraham looks up and sees a ram, caught in a thorn bush by its horns and kills it in the place of his son. On the mountain of the Lord God provides.
Abraham’s prophecy equips Christians with a perpetual question as they move from Genesis to Malachi. Where’s the lamb? The whole Old Testament can be viewed as a grand search for the lamb and a waiting on God to fulfill his promise. Is it the lamb that was slaughtered on the Passover, whose blood covered the doorposts and lintels protecting the people of Israel from the destroying angel? Is it the lamb offered once every year on the Day of Atonement for the sins of all the people? Is it the lamb of the morning and evening Divine Service, by which God dwells with his people and they with him? This hunt for the lamb is narrowed by Isaiah who prophesies in the Spirit that this lamb will be a man, and an odd sort of man at that. A man with no form or beauty that we should desire him. A man acquainted with grief and familiar with sorrow. A man who would bear our sins, carry our sorrow, be crushed for our iniquities and pierced for our transgressions. He would be “like a lamb that is led to the slaughter” and like a sheep at its shearers, no protest would be found on his lips.
Now we can understand the full weight of John’s proclamation, “Behold, the Lamb of God!” All the anticipation is over! In Christ, God has fulfilled Abraham’s promise. He himself has provided a lamb for sacrifice, namely, his son, his only son, whom he loves. He has given a lamb whose blood protects from death, hell, and all dark forces. He has given a lamb whose death atones for the sins of the world. He has given a lamb to bear all sins, sorrows, griefs, and iniquities on the cross for us. This is John the Baptist’s confession and whenever we join him in singing our own Agnus Dei, this becomes our confession. At the supper of our Lord, we too behold the Lamb of God and our own waiting is over. Here we have the blood of the lamb, the medicine of immortality and an antidote against death, and herein we do indeed have God’s “mercy” and “peace” as we sing in the canticle.
Now, as far as the history of this particular canticle is concerned and its use in the Divine Service, the Agnus Dei is undoubtedly Eastern in origin. It first appeared in the liturgies of the West at the end of the 7th century which comports with the significant flight of Eastern Christians from the East to the West on account of Muslim persecution. Historically, this canticle served the very practical purpose of musically covering the breaking up of the loaves of bread after consecration for the purpose of distribution. By the 9th and 10th centuries, individual wafers replaced the use of loaves in the West, nullifying the ceremonial or practical value of the canticle. However, because this canticle was so popular and well-loved it remained in use. In the Middle Ages the singing of this canticle was taken over by choirs or cantors, but during the Reformation it returned as a canticle of the people sung by the congregation. In Luther’s German Mass the Agnus Dei was set to the same melody as the Kyrie, forming a musical and theological link between the church’s plea for mercy and the Lord’s granting his mercy. The only setting of the Agnus Dei to outdo Luther’s in popularity among the Lutheran churches was the setting composed by Nicolaus Decius, “Lamb of God, Pure and Holy” (LSB 434).
In Lutheran Service Book we have a number of settings of the Agnus Dei. The Agnus Dei’s in settings one and two, composed by Richard Hilert and Ronald Nelson, though musically less desirable, offer a highly literal translation of the Latin. The Agnus Dei in setting three is from Luther’s German Mass with some light musical adaptation. The Agnus Dei in setting four was composed by Stephen Starke to the tune ANGELUS which can be found elsewhere in LSB. Especially during the seasons of Lent and Advent, it is appropriate to substitute the ordinary Agnus Dei for Decius’ Reformation setting, “Lamb of God, Pure and Holy.” This offers some seasonal variety and embraces the especially penitential and reflective character of the seasons.
II.
The distribution of the Body and Blood of Christ embraces a wide variety of questions, concerns, and practices. For our purposes, we will divide these under the headings of: A) the physical elements, B) the manner of reception, C) communion assistants, and D) the remaining elements.
A) As regards the physical elements to be used during the Lord’s Supper, relying on the Words of Institution, the church catholic has always used natural bread and natural wine.
Concerning the bread, though it is almost certain that Christ originally used unleavened bread, prior to the 9th century, leavened bread was universally used. After the Great Schism of the 11th century, Eastern christians opted for leavened and Western christians opted for unleavened, but either way, natural bread is used. On this point, C. F. W. Walther writes, “Whether the bread is made with yeast or not; whether it is rye, wheat, corn, barley, or oat bread; and whether it has this or that shape is an adiaphoron, so long as it is a baked good made with grain flour and water.” The use of wafers is an acceptable and good practice which eases distribution, minimizes crumbs, and as such enables higher reverence for the Body of Christ. The wafers ought to be of a good size and good taste. There is no excuse for ill-tasting bread which could be a stumbling block in a person’s reception of the Body of Christ.
Concerning the wine, again, the church catholic has always used natural wine, the “fruit of the vine.” Anything that is not wine ought not be used. As with the bread, the color or kind of wine has no impact on whether it is fitting for the Supper. For many practical and theological reasons, white can be preferred as it is generally less alcoholic, less acidic, and generally more pleasing on the palate. White wine also does not stain the fair linens and purificators which otherwise run the risk of ruin with red wines. Likewise, when white wine is used any attempt to make the Supper a matter of symbol is ruled out. The wine is the Blood of Christ, not on account of some passing resemblance or possibly symbolism, but because Christ declares and makes it so by his word. Regardless of which wine is used, as with the bread, there is no excuse for ill-tasting wine.
Should objections to either the bread or wine arise, such as might be the case with Celiacs disease or Alcoholism, the natural elements ought not be exchanged for unnatural ones, nor ought a person commune in only one kind. Christ has attached his promises to bread and wine, and when those elements are not used there is no promise or certainty that it is Christ’s Supper. These moments are moments for pastoral care and counselling, but as a general rule it is safer for a person to abstain from the Supper than to receive in a manner which disobeys Christ’s own command.
B) Concerning the manner of reception, history shows some variety of practice. As regards the Body of Christ, one can receive in the hand or on the tongue. Both have historic precedent in the church. In the 2nd century Cyril of Jerusalem instructed his catechumens to hold out their left hand to form a throne for their right hand which would receive the Body of Christ. In the 9th century priests more commonly instructed their parishioners to receive on the tongue so as to expel any abuses of the Body of Christ. In the 16th century, Luther commends receiving on the tongue as both the traditional practice and as a ceremonial of absolute passivity. Both practices are used today and both are wholesome and good.
As regards the Blood of Christ, the church catholic has historically made use of a single chalice from which all partake. This follows Christ’s own command to his disciples, “take of it,” namely, the one cup which he blessed, “all of you”. Despite each of the disciples having their own cup in front of them, Jesus commands them all to drink from his one cup, and thus receive his Blood. Such was the practice in the church universally until very, very recently.
It was not until the 20th century in America that individual cups became more commonly used. The origin of this practice is highly suspect and worth considering. Individual cups were first promulgated within the broader political and social context of 1) the temperance movement that sought to abolish the consumption of alcohol, and 2) advances in the field of epidemiology which sought to better understand germs and the spread of infectious diseases. Religiously, the use of individual cups originated and predominated among those groups which deny the real presence of Christ’s Body and Blood in the Supper, especially the Reformed and Baptists. As such the practice is very much emblematic of the confession that Christ is not really or truly present in the Supper.
Against those who do not believe Christ’s words that the chalice is a vehicle of God’s grace, forgiveness, life, and salvation, but rather insist that it is a vector for disease, plague, and death, Luther writes, “We must never think of the Sacrament as something harmful from which we had better flee, but as a pure, wholesome, comforting remedy that grants salvation and comfort. It will cure you and give you life both in soul and body. For wherever the soul has recovered, the body also is relieved” (LC V. 68). This faith is also robustly confessed in the dismissal formula which says, “The body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ strengthen and preserve you in body and soul to life everlasting. Depart in peace” (LSB 199). With these words we believe, teach, and confess that the Lord’s Supper is the medicine of immortality and the antidote against death. It cannot harm those who partake. To say otherwise is to call into question the character of the Supper and Christ himself.
Apart from this theological confession, numerous medical studies have been performed on the use of the chalice, and all of them have demonstrated that it is statistically impossible for viral or bacterial disease to be spread from the chalice and that a person is at no greater risk to their health in taking from the chalice. This is confirmed by three separate medical studies, including a 1988 study published by Dr. David Ho in the New England Journal of Medicine, a 1999 study by the American Society for Microbiology, and a 1998 study published by the Center for Disease Control and Prevention. Through these studies thousands of people were surveyed of all ages and medical backgrounds and all of these studies concluded that the chalice is medically safe. In fact, it is safer than the use of individual cups!
The most reasonable and faithful practice of the church is to receive from the chalice. If doubts or fears remain in pious christians such persons should fight the good fight of faith, wrestle against the temptation of the devil which causes them to question their lord, and firmly trust that there is no poison in the cup our physician gives us.
C) Concerning communion assistants, this position has historically been filled by those who are in or aspiring to the Pastoral Office. Within the Lutheran church this has also been the practice, following article 14 of our Augsburg Confession which does not permit anyone to teach, preach, or administer the sacraments without a proper call. In the 20th century, however, congregations began introducing lay assistants. Within the LCMS this was handled very carefully through the mechanism of a Board of Elders, a church board specifically charged with the support of the pastor, much like the ancient office of sub-deacon. This board has always been reserved to the leading men of the congregation who are well catechized in the faith and diligently instructed in the proper administration of the Supper such that they can reverently and effectively assist the pastor. Whether ordained or lay, those who assist in communion ought to do so vested in an alb or cassock and surplice according to the practice of the pastor. Vesting subordinates the individual to the office of service that he is carrying out for the sake of the congregation. He is, therefore, not acting of his own volition or representing his own person, rather he is acting in accordance with the will of Christ and as his representative. As a final note, in view of Paul’s clear and unequivocal words in 1 Timothy 2 and 1 Corinthians 14, it is not fitting for a woman to assist in the distribution of communion since it is the public proclamation of the Gospel and an exercise of authority.
D) Concerning the remaining elements or the reliquiae, great care ought to be taken. Since our confession is that the bread and wine are Christ’s Body and Blood, they ought to be treated as such, even after the Supper has ended. The scriptures are silent on the question of whether after the Supper has ended the Body and Blood remain, and in light of this the church catholic has typically taken the more conservative and reverent position of assuming that it does. But if it does, the question remains, what do you do with the elements that remain? The best practice is consumption, that is, to consume all the elements so that there is none left over. This can easily be done during the service with the aid of a cruet of water. Short of this, respectfully pouring out the wine onto the ground so that it is not mixed with common sewage is the best practice. With respect to the bread, apart from consuming, it may also be burned so as not to be mixed with common garbage. The great benefit of consuming the remaining elements is that it automatically precludes any questions or concerns about handling, storage, and use.
Rev. Philip D. Bartelt
Lutheran Church of the Good Shepherd
St. Dorothy, 2025
