Opbouw, Vol. 8, No. 46 (5 March 1965), pp. 368-369
Translated by Jim Witteveen from the works of Gerard Visee.
Introduction
The articles which we now present to our readers on the theme mentioned above were already completed in the autumn of 1964. The reason they are being published only now lies in the well-known events of November at the general synod, which demanded all our attention and occupied much space in our magazine.
Mindful of the good advice given by colleague Plooy in our periodical, I sent these articles to several office-bearers outside Kampen for their consideration, asking them for criticism and further advice. Their response was that they wholeheartedly agreed with the contents and advised publication in our magazine, and, if appropriate, afterwards also in pamphlet form. For this publication, however, the author alone bears responsibility. The same applies with respect to the fellow members of the editorial board of Opbouw.
I can well imagine someone asking the question: Is this the right time to raise these issues? Do our churches, already under strain from more than one controversy, really need yet another one? I answer that I have no desire for “controversies” either. It is, however, a question of who creates them and how they arise. They do not come about through reverently considering together the question of what—even on the present subject—is the good and well-pleasing will of God. Rather, they arise when an attempt to answer that question is met, not with scriptural, and therefore brotherly and objective criticism, but with partisan and unobjective criticism which, as sometimes happens among us, hastily burdens brothers with accusations of departing from the confession, and the like. This produces unrest. And it does not seem right to me to remain silent in order to avoid that unrest. In this way nothing could ever again be brought up for discussion among us, and the saying ecclesia reformata semper reformanda would become an empty slogan.
I do not fear possible criticism based in scripture; on the contrary, I pray for it. Just as I sought the judgment of others before publication, in the same way I will also welcome the judgment of others after making my views public. I know well enough that what I write runs contrary to the tradition among the Reformed in the Netherlands. Whether it also runs contrary to Scripture and to the practice of the church of the Reformation is, for me, not a matter of doubt; nevertheless, I will gladly submit that also to the brothers’ judgment.
Furthermore, I am not the one who is placing this matter on the agenda; it is on the agenda. In one of the Liberated Reformed churches in our country, the Reformed Church of Rijsbergen, the children of the congregation participate in the Lord’s Supper. The conversation with this church must begin—the conversation, which is something quite different from the “quarrelsome disputation” against which Scripture warns us. The articles that follow are intended to contribute to that necessary conversation with the brothers in Rijsbergen. With the prayer that they may serve for the edification of the church of the Lord and for the true strengthening of our most holy faith, I now publish them. I do so in the hope that they may receive as favorable and as calm a reception as they did during the meetings this winter with the brothers and sisters in my district, where I presented the substance of what is offered here in a straightforward manner.
The question confronts us, and it can no longer be avoided: Must the children of the congregation also—and therefore may they—participate in the celebration of the meal which Christ instituted on the night in which He was betrayed? It is well known that the matter is not merely being raised as a question, but is already before us positively and in practice, because in the Reformed Church of Rijsbergen the participation of the children is an established fact.
That fact, by itself, need not be a reason to write about this question. That children do not participate in the Lord’s Supper has for centuries been the practice among us and belongs to our Reformed certainties. One could therefore say: if this practice is to be changed, then the burden of proof rests upon those who believe that it should be changed and who have already begun to act accordingly. The floor belongs to Rijsbergen! But one may also approach the matter from another angle and say: now
that this is being done in Rijsbergen, there is every reason to ask: are our brothers and sisters right in doing so? And is our practice better? It is older, but is it better? Or must we take a different path, even though that need not necessarily be the path taken by Rijsbergen?
Among the Reformed in the Sixteenth Century
In order at once to bring some calm to the agitation surrounding this matter, we may perhaps begin with a reminder of the practice among the Reformed in Germany during the century of the Reformation. If someone has little confidence in those German Reformed, let me reassure him. I shall go back to the Reformed in the Palatinate. That is the land where, in 1563, the Heidelberg Catechism came off the press. That catechism was, in the same year, incorporated into a church order which also contains a chapter entitled, “Concerning Preparation for the Holy Lord’s Supper.” We are therefore on familiar ground.
This church order was introduced on November 15, 1563, by the same Elector Frederick III who had also commissioned the preparation of the Catechism—our Catechism, concerning our only comfort in life and in death. And the Heidelberg circle of this Elector and of this Ursinus and Olevianus thought and acted differently from us with regard to admission to the Lord’s Supper, at least in one respect.
In that church order we read: “The Lord’s Supper shall be celebrated in the cities at least once every month, and in the villages once every two months, and in both on Easter, Pentecost, and Christmas Day. Nevertheless, wherever the edification of the church, or its custom and need, require it, it is Christian and proper that it be celebrated more frequently. And whenever it is intended to celebrate the Supper, this shall everywhere be publicly announced by the minister of the church eight days beforehand, together with the exhortation that the whole congregation prepare itself for it.”
Several things stand out already in this first section. In the cities the Lord’s Supper was to be celebrated monthly; in the villages, every two months. The difference probably arose from the fact that many villages had no minister. But it was to be celebrated that frequently—and no less often. Moreover, it was also to be celebrated on Easter Day, Pentecost, and Christmas Day, or better still, even more frequently.
Furthermore, the celebration had to be announced eight days in advance. Note well: not so that, after hearing the announcement, the congregation might spend that time wondering whether or not it should partake of the Lord’s Supper, but rather so that the congregation might prepare itself for the celebration of the Lord’s Supper. And indeed: the whole congregation. That is the Old Testament expression: “Jacob.” The full number. Remember this: the whole congregation! The church order continues:
“Furthermore, he”—that is, the minister—“shall exhort parents and heads of households during this intervening period to instruct their children and other young people whom they intend to bring to the Lord’s Table for the first time, and, on the coming Saturday or on another suitable day preceding it, according to the circumstances of the church, after the sermon has been delivered, to present them to the minister of the church, so that they may receive further instruction.”
Let us pause again here for a moment. On the Saturday before the celebration of the Lord’s Supper, the parents were therefore to present those children—and other young people (foster children?)—whom they wished to bring with them to the Lord’s Supper for the first time. It was not adult “children” who presented themselves to the minister, as is the case among us with “children” of… eighteen to twenty-five years of age, but the parents presented their children—those children whom they wished to bring with them to the Lord’s Supper for the first time. Take note: the parents brought their children with them to the Lord’s Supper.
And, in the third place, while awaiting what was to happen next, the parents were to continue instructing those children—that is, to continue instructing them in preparation for the Lord’s Supper. How many parents among us still actually do this: instruct their children about the Lord’s Supper and prepare them for it? And all this is said here by the men of our Catechism, the men of the only comfort, in a Church Order adopted by their Reformed churches.
It continues: “On the Saturday before the Lord’s Supper the preparation shall be held; that is, a sermon for the proper understanding [of the Lord’s Supper], and this must derive its substance both from the Catechism and from that which is required for the proper celebration of the Lord’s Supper.” And then comes the crucial part:
“At the end of the sermon the minister shall exhort the people to remain in order to hear further announcements and to make confession of their faith. Thereupon the minister shall take his place before the table and, first of all, tell those young people who are present and who have not previously come to the table of the Lord to come forward and make confession of their faith. Thereafter the minister shall first have those who thus present themselves recite the Articles of the Christian Faith, the Ten Commandments, and the Lord’s Prayer, and then answer questions from the Catechism concerning the Lord’s Supper. But since many, out of timidity, would not be able to recite such portions so orderly and word for word, although in other respects there would be nothing blameworthy about them, the minister of the church shall remind them of the principal articles of the Christian faith, and, after they have made confession, they shall be admitted with the congregation to the Lord’s Supper.”[1]
That is how matters were conducted in the church of Zacharias Ursinus and Caspar Olevianus. Father and mother brought their children with them to the Lord’s Supper. They instructed their children concerning the Lord’s Supper and in preparation for it. At their admission only minimal requirements were imposed. They were to recite before the minister, in the presence of the congregation, the “three chief parts” of the doctrine of Christ. They were also to answer a few questions from the Catechism concerning the Lord’s Supper.
And if those little children, because they were still so young—and therefore so shy, so timid—were unable to do so, they were not rejected because they made a mistake or two while reciting those “great portions.” Rather, the minister was simply to kindly explain it to them once more; then they made confession of faith and were admitted to the Lord’s Supper with the congregation.
That is how it was done. Not among the Anabaptists. Not in some sect. Nor could it have been. The Anabaptists denied that children belong to the congregation and are included in God’s covenant. Therefore they did not baptize little children, and still less did they admit those children to the Lord’s Supper. Before those children might come to baptism and to the Lord’s Supper, something first had to have “happened” to them; they first had to be able to tell what had “taken place in their soul.”
But the Reformed did not wait for that. For they acknowledged that their children, by virtue and power of God’s covenant—“you and your seed”—belong to the congregation. Therefore they baptized them. Therefore the men of the Heidelberg Catechism taught parents to bring their little children with them to the Lord’s Supper. Because they were not Anabaptists but Reformed. And the church—the Reformed church, the church of the Heidelberg Catechism, of Ursinus and Olevianus—admitted the children to the Lord’s Supper. And this they did with only minimal knowledge: the Articles of Faith, the Ten Commandments, the Lord’s Prayer, and a few questions about the Lord’s Supper.
It was no objection if they stumbled while reciting “those great portions.” Then the minister simply said it again. It is not this practice that is Anabaptistic. Rather, what is Anabaptistic is that things later became different—that people wait until they are eighteen, twenty, twenty-five years old before celebrating the Lord’s Supper, and sometimes even longer. That is the outworking of a deeper Anabaptist undercurrent in our Reformed life. One made “one’s confession of faith” only when one “might believe it for oneself.” And it is from that same spirit that, when young people among us wish to partake of the Lord’s Supper, the elders visit them in order to examine their “motives.” As though, in God’s church, it were not something entirely ordinary—ordinary by God’s grace—that the seed of the covenant, the children of the congregation, celebrate the Passover of the new covenant together.
Sometimes we think we know better, and we simply leave our children at home: after all, it is the Lord’s Supper, and the service lasts so long. I know that there are Reformed children of about ten or eleven years of age who have never even seen a celebration of the Lord’s Supper, although, thankfully, that is by no means generally the case. But let one first read and reread once again how matters were conducted in the Reformed churches of the Palatinate at the very time—in that same year—in which Ursinus’ and Olevianus’ little book of the only comfort appeared in those very churches. The authors of your Catechism, the churches of this Catechism, desired and ordered matters in precisely this way and no other: that father and mother should bring their little children with them to the Lord’s Supper. That truly was: “To Jesus by Mother’s hand!”[2]
(To be continued)
G.Visee
[1] Confessions and Church Orders of the Church Reformed According to God’s Word (Bekenntnisschriften und Kirchen Ordnungen der nach Gottes Wort reformierten Kirche), edited by Wilhelm Niesel, 2nd ed. (Zollikon–Zürich: Evangelischer Verlag A.G., 1938). The passage quoted here has been adapted by Lic. H. Klugkist Hesse (†), at that time minister of the Evangelical Reformed Church in Elberfeld and lecturer in church history at the Theological School of the Confessing Church there, pp. 187–188.
[2] Aan Moeders hand tot Jezus (“To Jesus by Mother’s Hand”) was a well-known Dutch Protestant devotional slogan and the title of popular children’s literature, evoking the image of a Christian mother leading her children to Christ. Visee uses the phrase to suggest that the Palatinate churches literally fulfilled this ideal by having parents bring their children to the Lord’s Table.
