In the fifth century, the church father Augustine influentially defined a sacrament as “a visible sign of an invisible grace.” Calvin agreed with Augustine but felt his famous definition was too ambiguous. After all, it allowed the Rome of Calvin’s day to claim that sacraments infuse invisible grace by the mere fact of their administration. At the other end of the spectrum, it allowed Zwingli to claim that acting out the visible signs parallels participation in the invisible grace. Yet he didn’t regard the signs as the means by which God bestows grace. For Rome, the sacraments work grace regardless of faith; for Zwingli, they symbolize grace received by faith prior to and apart from the sacraments. Even Anabaptists and other radicals could technically agree with Augustine’s description as far as it goes, while relegating the sacraments to (at best) a testimonial role in expressing or demonstrating our faith.
As W. Robert Godfrey wrote in Modern Reformation years ago, while Calvin sharply disagreed with Rome on what the sacraments are, he also disagreed with Zwingli and the radicals on who is at work in the sacraments: “It is primarily God who acts in the Lord’s Supper. God is the giver; we receive that gift.” Calvin expanded Augustine’s definition, which he felt more clearly reflected the Bible’s teaching about the sacraments’ crucial role in the Holy Spirit’s application of salvation:
[A sacrament is] an outward sign by which the Lord seals on our consciences the promises of his good will toward us in order to sustain the weakness of our faith; and we in turn attest our piety toward him in the presence of the Lord and of his angels and before men.
The sacraments involve action in both directions: from God toward us and from us toward God. They are simultaneously means by which God bestows grace and means by which we receive grace in faith and show our gratitude. But for Calvin, as for Augustine and the great majority of the Christian tradition before and after him, God is always the primary actor at work in the sacraments. The biblical emphasis is on God’s work through the sacraments, not ours. He gives grace, bestowing his favor through the waters of baptism and in the Lord’s Supper. These gifts are received by faith, as they in turn seal, confirm, and strengthen that same faith.
Yet Calvin also recognizes from church history that even by the time of Augustine many of the faithful were neglecting the sacraments. While Calvin argued that no one should be compelled to come to the Table against conscience, all should be urged to partake frequently to enjoy such priceless benefits. “All, like hungry men, should flock to such a bounteous repast.”
What exactly are these sacramental benefits that make heartfelt and frequent participation so compelling?
Calvin had a lot to say about the nature and value of the sacraments. I want to draw attention to just two of his claims that may seem odd or even uncomfortable, especially to those of us who grew up with a more symbolic Zwinglian—or Anabaptist!—understanding of the sacraments. I hope these claims not only cause us to reflect on our own assumptions about the sacraments’ role in our Christian faith and life but to deepen our appreciation of God’s generosity, who freely gives us such precious gifts.
God Has Given Us the Sacraments to Display His Promises More Clearly than His Word Alone
Calvin teaches that the saving promises of God’s written and preached word are “sealed” by the “visible word” of baptism and the Lord’s Supper. A sacrament is like a wax seal impressed by an official upon a government decree to confirm the authority of its claims. The seal, of course, would be meaningless if the document itself were blank; the seal depends on the decree for its meaning. But does that make the seal on an authentic document unnecessary?
Far from being superfluous, Calvin claims that the sacraments are the clearest promises that God has given us—clarity even “over and above the word” by itself!
For the clearer anything is, the fitter it is to support faith. But the sacraments bring the clearest promises; and they have this characteristic over and above the word because they represent [God’s promises] for us as painted in a picture from life.
Calvin, of course, doesn’t mean to imply that the word is fundamentally unclear, or that the promises displayed in the sacraments are somehow different from the promises proclaimed in God’s word. The sacraments are the word made visible—not some other word. Yet he does claim that God’s promises are more tangibly and vividly held out and received in the sacraments than in God’s word read and preached. For those of us used to prioritizing the gospel clarity of preaching and personal devotions, that’s a bold claim. How can the sacraments convey clearer promises?
The gospel’s announcement of God’s release of captives and victory over sin, death, and Satan in Jesus’ saving work is the most beautiful proclamation imaginable. But it’s also indiscriminate. “Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price!” (Is. 55:1). “Everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord shall be saved” (Acts 2:21). The good news is so good that it can save anyone, no matter how sinful. And it must go out to everyone, no matter how far away from God they seem. That’s amazing! But if this promise is for anyone in general, how do I know it’s for me in particular? How do I connect the dots between every sinner out there and this sinner in here?
In baptism, I get to experience personally, bodily, the promise of death and resurrection with Christ not only as it's spoken over me but sealed in me by the Holy Spirit through faith. The words aren’t general, but particular: “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life” (Rom. 6:3–4). In the Lord’s Supper, likewise, I get to touch, taste, and see that the Lord is not only good but good to me. He not only fills the hungry with good things, but he satisfies me. “This is my body, which is given for you” (Luke 22:19).
Because I’m baptized and invited to the Table, I have the privilege by faith to boldly claim with Paul, “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (Gal. 2:20). God has given us the sacraments, Calvin says, to put his promises most clearly on display before our eyes—indeed, place them into our hands and mouths—so that they can sink most deeply into our hearts. There’s nothing more personal than receiving this mysterious spiritual reality through tangible things like water, bread, and wine with the eyes, hands, and mouth of faith.
God Has Ordained the Sacraments for the Special Role of Confirming and Increasing Our Faith
Calvin goes on to identify another “particular ministry” for the sacraments: Scripture assigns them the special role of God’s means to “establish and increase faith.” This ministry isn’t based on any intrinsic power in the elements themselves, but on the power of the Holy Spirit working in and through ordinary elements to accomplish his extraordinary purposes. The sacraments are “a ministry empty and trifling, apart from the action of the Spirit, but charged with great effect when the Spirit works within and manifests his power.” Preaching, teaching, praying, singing—all these are essential to belonging to Christ and bearing fruit in him. But according to Calvin, the sacraments are the Holy Spirit’s ongoing and ordinary way of confirming and increasing our faith.
If the sacraments were merely a memorial or symbol of God’s hidden activity or merely one option for expressing our faith among many, then the sacraments probably shouldn’t play a central role in Christian faith and life. Baptism’s spiritual symbolism for our union with Christ is deeply important, but we get to experience it once. We can experience moving music or enthusiastic preaching every week. The Supper can also be a powerful, repeated reminder of Christ’s sacrifice, but it can easily lose its impact if we go through the motions too often. Who wants to go to a memorial service every single week?
But if the sacraments are less like a funeral and more like a feast, then everything changes. Baptism is something we receive only once, true, but it’s something we experience every time we’re reminded who we really are in Jesus. We’ve been buried and raised with Christ; our sins are forgiven; we’re new creations in Jesus; we have the Holy Spirit as a downpayment of the full inheritance that belongs to us as adopted sons and daughters of God our Father. Being baptized is like being married. The wedding day has revolutionary implications for every day afterward. And the Supper isn’t a funeral—it’s regular, intimate communion with our Bridegroom.
It should come as no surprise, then, that while Zwingli was satisfied to follow typical late Medieval practice in celebrating the Supper annually, Calvin believed the Supper should be “set before the church very often, and at least once a week.” We should follow the pattern of Acts 2, Calvin says, where “every meeting of the church” included “the word, prayers, partaking of the Supper, and almsgiving.” He appeals to several witnesses from the earliest centuries of the church who testify to the weekly—in some cases daily—practice of communion among the gathered saints.
New or immature Christians often struggle with assurance. Is God still angry with me? How do I know my faith is genuine? How can I be sure I’m elect? Seasoned Christians struggle mightily too. Is God secretly disappointed with my slow progress? Why do I keep struggling with the same old sins?
Whether young or old in Christ, we need our faith regularly confirmed and strengthened. I need to be assured that God is entirely for me, pursuing my good even in struggle, even in discipline. You need to be assured that Jesus is as mighty to save in the valley of the shadow as he is in green pastures. He is still enough, still far better at saving than we are at sinning.
The “particular ministry” of the sacraments, according to Calvin, is to establish, confirm, and increase our faith in the graciousness of God, assuring us that all his promises are Yes and Amen in Christ for you and me. We all need stronger, more confident faith. We all need to grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord Jesus, making “every effort to be found spotless, blameless and at peace with him” (1 Pet. 3:14, 18). That means we all need to remember our baptism and partake of the Lord’s Supper, being strengthened and assured by the one who is our Peace.
So, with Calvin, I encourage you to embrace the vital role of the sacraments in your Christian faith and life. Find strength and assurance where God most clearly promises to give it: remembering your baptism daily and communing with our Savior as often as his church is gathered and the word preached. Or at least weekly.
Footnotes
Godfrey, “Calvin on the Eucharist,” Modern Reformation (May/June 1997), citing Calvin, Institutes, 4.17.44, 46.
BackInstitutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John T. McNeill and trans. Ford Lewis Battles, 2 vols (Westminster John Knox, 1960), 4.14.1.
BackI’ve written about this dynamic in a previous MR essay, “‘Sorry I Could Not Travel Both’: Protestant Divergence on the Sacraments,” (May/June 2023).
BackFor an overview of liturgical evidence with detailed sources, see William D. Maxwell, A History of Christian Worship: An Outline of Its Development and Forms (Baker, 1982). Maxwell notes a decline in frequency of communion beginning around the fifth century in both East and West.
BackInstitutes, 4.17.43–46.
BackInstitutes, 4.14.5.
BackInstitutes, 4.14.9.
BackAgain, see examples throughout Maxwell, History of Christian Worship illustrating frequent (usually weekly) communion as typical and widespread for at least the first four centuries. For Luther and the history of Lutheran practice regarding frequency with an emphasis on the LCMS, see David Jay Webber’s helpful research in “Communion Frequency in the Lutheran Confessions and in the Lutheran Church”
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