But there is another reading[411] which is more consonant with other passages, and therefore probably to be preferred; viz. that which represents “the [pg 189] Word” as the Mediator or Propitiation through whom the oblation is made. We have that idea distinctly expressed in a former passage[412], in which he speaks, in reference to this very text of Malachi, of the Church as offering through Jesus Christ; and it is implied in the Fragment, in which he speaks of our offering these things “with remembrance (ἐν τῇ ἀναμνήσει) of the Lord[413].”
But whichever reading we take, there is no foundation for the idea of a propitiatory sacrifice of Christ under the figure and appearance of the consecrated elements.
Both this latter quotation from the “Heresies” and the Fragment are opposed to the notion of any substantial change in the elements. The former speaks of the bread after consecration as “not common bread,” implying that it is still bread, although [pg 190] adapted to a sacred and mysterious use; and as “consisting of two things, an earthly and a heavenly[414]” (meaning probably the elements themselves and the body and blood of Christ), whereas the notion of transubstantiation requires that there should be nothing of the earthly really left after the consecration. The fragment still more explicitly calls them figures at the very time that we partake of them. It is true that the view of Irenæus differs equally from ordinary Protestant notions, and indeed is more positive than that of the English Church; but we are to bear in mind that the Fathers did not always speak with logical accuracy. Their language has been brought forward in support of the theory of transubstantiation, and therefore it has become necessary to show that they did not write on that theory. It is not equally requisite that we should be able to construct a theory which shall explain all the figurative and imaginative language in which they expressed their faith in the real presence of Christ in the Sacrament. Irenæus certainly taught this doctrine, and that is enough for us of the Church of England, who do not concern ourselves to explain the manner of his presence. Some of us may agree with his manner of expressing it, but we do not require of others that they should agree with him.
We cannot complete our view of the opinions of Irenæus in regard to the Eucharist without adverting to his ideas on the consecration of the elements. This he describes in various ways, sometimes attributing it to the word of God[415], sometimes to the invocation of God[416], sometimes to the invocation of the Holy Ghost[417]. But all these may be reconciled, if we consider them to be allusions to various portions of the consecration prayer. There is such a form left in the Apostolical Constitutions, with which all the four ancient liturgies exhibited by Brett and Palmer coincide, viz. the Roman, the Oriental, the Egyptian, and the Gallican. Now all these forms contain a recital of the words of institution, which may not unfitly be called the word of God, and an invocation of God to send down his Holy Spirit upon the gifts, to consecrate them to be the body and blood of Christ, which may be called either an invocation of God or an invocation of the Holy Ghost. Is it not therefore most probable that Irenæus alludes to this prayer, which must have been used in very early ages, for its leading features to be found thus spread throughout the world? The expressions, therefore, which he uses, though various and distinct, are not contrary or contradictory: they allude to various portions of the same form.
It is worthy of observation, however, that this attributing of the consecration to these different things is contrary to the modern doctrine of transubstantiation, which attributes it to one and one only, viz. the recital of the words of institution: This is my body, This is my blood.
There is another passage which proves that no transubstantiation was then thought of; viz. the fragment[418], which appears likely to have been a part of the account of the persecutions at Lyons. We there read that the heathen tortured the slaves of some Christians, in order to extort from them something which might serve as a colour for the severities they exercised upon them; and that the slaves, “not knowing what to say to please their tormentors, except what they had heard from their masters, that the Holy Communion was the blood and body of Christ, and thinking that it was really flesh and blood, told this to those who were questioning them.” Now it appears very clear that language such as this could scarcely have been used by a person who thought that the sacred elements had become really flesh and blood, which is the doctrine of transubstantiation; although it might be employed with perfect consistency by those who believed in a real mysterious presence of them in the Holy Communion, [pg 193] without any change in the nature of the elements.
Massuet[419] brings forward, in support of the doctrine of transubstantiation, the fact that the Marcosians pretended, by magical rites, to effect a change of the wine into blood. As they professed to produce a substantial change, he infers that the Church must have really produced such a change. But the inference is far from being a sound one; for as magical rites are invented to pander to the appetite of the ignorant for something supernatural, so it is most probable that a pretender of this description, who wished to set up for something superior to the clergy, should profess to do something more wonderful than they; that whereas they effected none but a mystical change, he should pretend to a literal one. And this no doubt is the history of transubstantiation. It is the attempt of unspiritual minds to raise the wonder of the sacred mysteries to the highest pitch, forgetful meanwhile of the spiritual objects of them. The doctrine is eminently a carnal doctrine.