“This is my body”
Some New Testament Texts: Mark 14:22-24 and parallels; John 6:35-65; 1 Corinthians 10:16; 1 Timothy 4:4-5.
IX.1IGNATIUS: [The Docetists] avoid the eucharist and prayer because they do not confess the eucharist to be the flesh of our Savior Jesus Christ, which suffered for our sins and which the Father in his goodness resurrected. (Smymaeans 7)
2I will make plain to you the dispensation in the new man Jesus Christ, by his faith, his love, by his passion and resurrection. Especially will I do so if the Lord should show me that all of you, to a person, come together in the common assembly in grace from his name in one faith and in Jesus Christ, “who was of the family of David according to the flesh,” son of man and son of God. The intention is that you obey the bishop and presbytery with undisturbed mind, breaking the one bread, which is the medicine of immortality, the antidote in order that we should not die but live forever in Jesus Christ. (Ephesians 20)
3JUSTIN: And this food is called by us eucharist. It is not lawful for any other one to partake of it than the one who believes the things which have been taught by us to be true, and was washed with the washing for the remission of sins and for rebirth, and lives in the manner Christ taught. We receive these elements not as common bread and common drink. In the same manner as our Savior Jesus Christ was made flesh through the word of God and had flesh and blood for our salvation, even so we were taught that the food for which thanks have been given through the prayer of the word that is from him and from which our blood and flesh are nourished according to the bodily processes is the flesh and blood of that Jesus who was made flesh. For the apostles in their memoirs, which are called Gospels, delivered what was commanded them, that Jesus took bread, gave thanks and said: “Do this for my memorial; this is my body.” Likewise taking the cup and giving thanks, he said: “This is my blood.” And he gave it to them alone. (Apology I, 66)
4IRENAEUS: How can they be consistent with themselves when they say the bread for which they give thanks is the body of their Lord and the cup his blood, if they do not say he is the Son of the Creator of the world? . . . How can they say that the flesh that is nourished from the body of the Lord and from his flesh comes to corruption and does not partake of life? Let them either change their views or avoid offering the bread and wine. But our view is in harmony with the eucharist, and the eucharist confirms our view. We offer to God his own things, proclaiming rightly the communion and unity of flesh and spirit. For as bread from the earth when it receives the invocation of God is no longer common bread but the eucharist, consisting of two things-one earthly and one heavenly-so also our bodies when they partake of the eucharist are no longer corruptible but have the hope of the resurrection to eternity. (Against Heresies 4.18.4,5)
5But if the flesh is not saved, neither did the Lord redeem us with his blood nor is the cup of the eucharist a participation in his blood nor the bread which we break a participation in his body. . . . He acknowledged the created cup with which he moistens our blood as his own blood, and he confirmed the created bread from which our bodies grow as his own body. Since therefore the cup that has been mixed and the bread that has been made, from which things the substance of our flesh grows and is sustained, receive the word of God and the eucharist becomes the body of Christ, how do they say that the flesh that is nourished from the body and blood of the Lord and is a member of him is incapable of receiving the gift of God which is eternal life? (Against Heresies 5.2.2,3)
6TERTULLIAN: Taking bread and distributing it to his disciples he made it his own body by saying, “This is my body,” that is a “figure of my body.” On the other hand, there would not have been a figure unless there was a true body. (Against Marcion 4.40)
7CYPRIAN: The cup that is offered in commemoration of him is offered mixed with wine. When Christ says, “I am the true vine,” the blood of Christ is certainly not water but wine. Neither is it possible to see that his blood by which we are redeemed and made alive is in the cup when there is absent from the cup the wine by which the blood of Christ is shown forth. (Epistle 63 .2)
8CYRIL OF JERUSALEM: The bread and the wine of the eucharist before the holy invocation of the worshipful Trinity was simple bread and wine, but when the invocation is done, the bread becomes the body of Christ and wine the blood of Christ. (Lectures on the Mysteries 1.7 [= Catechetical Lectures 19.7])
9For in the type of the bread there is given to you the body, and in the type of the wine there is given to you the blood, in order that you may become by partaking of the body and blood of Christ the same body and blood with him. For even so we become bearers of Christ since his body and blood are distributed in our members. (Ibid. 4.4 [= 22.3])
10We beseech the loving God to send forth the Holy Spirit upon what is offered in order that he may make the bread the body of Christ and the wine the blood of Christ. For whatever the Holy Spirit touches he sanctifies and changes. (Ibid. 5.7 [= 23.7])
11GREGORY OF NYSSA: He disseminates himself through that flesh whose substance comes from bread and wine in every one who believes in the economy of grace, blending himself with the bodies of believers, as if by this union with what is immortal, a human being too may become a partaker in incorruption. He gives these things by the power of the benediction through which he transelements the natural quality of these visible things to that immortal thing. (Catechetical Oration 37)
12AMBROSE: But this bread is bread before the words of the sacraments. When consecration has been added, from bread it becomes the body of Christ. Let us, therefore, prove this. How is it possible for that which is bread to be the body of Christ? By consecration. In whose words then is the consecration? Those of the Lord Jesus. [The next chapter quotes the words of the last supper as repeated by the priest, and the explanation concludes:] Before the words of Christ the cup is full of wine and water. When the words of Christ have operated, then is made the blood which redeems the people. (On the Sacraments 4.4.14-4.5.23)
The questions raised in later ages, especially in the Reformation and post-Reformation controversies about the Lord’s supper, were not raised in the earliest period. The dominant conceptions in regard to the Lord’s supper were those noted in the last chapter-thanksgiving for God’s gifts, the memorial action related to this, fellowship, and eschatological hopes. Other concepts, however, were also present which were to have a great development in the future. These ideas introduce us to the origins of Catholic sacramental theology. It is well to look at these in order to determine more clearly what these ideas meant at the beginning. That will be the task of this and the following chapter.
In discussing the language of the real presence in the early centuries, three aspects of the problem are to be kept in mind: the identification of Christ with the elements of the Lord’s supper, the benefits conferred by communion, and the consecration which effects the change in the elements. These aspects are distinct but in time merged in their significance.
The basis for the identification of Christ with the elements was the words of institution by Jesus at the last supper, “This is my body,” “This is my blood.” A certain amount of the “realistic” language in the early church is simply the repetition of the New Testament language, with no reflection on its meaning. The main context, however, in which the close identity of the elements and the flesh and blood of Jesus is stressed is to be found in the opposition to heretical teaching. A major threat to early Christian beliefs came from Docetism. The word is derived from the Greek verb “to seem,” “to appear.” There were those who believed that Jesus did not have a real or true human body but that he only seemed or appeared to be a real man. He came in appearance, so there was not a true incarnation. This view was continued by the Gnostics of the second century, with whom it was linked with the belief that matter was associated with evil. Thus the divine Spirit, Christ, could not have been contaminated by an actual involvement in all that pertains to fleshly life. This is why Ignatius and Tertullian, for instance, use the word “flesh” and not “body” in talking about the elements of the Lord’s supper. The “realism” of the early writers was an opposition to the Gnostic disparagement of the flesh. Orthodox writers affirmed that union of flesh with Spirit is possible. Of course, the use of actual material elements from the created world in the Lord’s supper gave them a powerful argument against the heretical denial of the goodness of creation. It also gave them an argument for the real human nature of Jesus. He was true flesh and blood, since it was the material objects bread and wine which he had used to show forth the nature of his human body. This circumstance accounts for much of the literal language of early Christians about the Lord’s supper.
The anti-heretical thrust of the language of the real presence makes it difficult to determine any metaphysical thought about the real presence. Indeed the case might be made that initially there was none. In Hebrew thought it is function that is important (word equals deed). In prophetic symbolism deeds and words stood for the reality they represented and had the power to effect that for which they stood.1 If Jesus’ actions at the last supper are interpreted in this frame of reference, then the elements had the power or function of the body and blood. On the other hand, in Greek philosophy substances are important. An important aspect of the development of Christian doctrine was the putting of Christian beliefs, which grew out of a primarily Hebraic-Jewish context, into the language of Greek philosophy.2 This process may be illustrated in the development of the Christological controversies of the ancient period. A similar development may be postulated in regard to the Lord’s supper. Hellenistic Christianity defined the value of the Lord’s supper in terms of a change in the elements, not just a change in their use or function.
As to the second aspect of this study, the benefits conferred by partaking of the elements, John 6 appears to have been the source. Immortality was thought to be conferred through partaking of the elements endowed with the life-giving power of the Savior. The ideas of the Synoptic institution narrative (“This is my body”) and John (“He who eats this bread will live forever”) are united in Irenaeus. Participation in the elements brings about union with Christ and his resurrection. The blessings of life and immortality are spiritually received through the power of Christ.
That which gave the special character to the elements, whether as “body and blood” or as vehicles of spiritual life, was the consecration. Prayer consecrated something to a special use, according to Jewish and early Christian thought. Prayer over the meal dedicated it to the use of the participants for their nourishment, in accordance with God’s creative design (1 Timothy 4:4-5). Similarly, prayer over the bread and wine dedicated the elements to their particular use as a memorial of Christ. They were no longer “common” bread and wine. They had become “holy” through the special association which now attached to them. No consideration of the nature of consecration or the precise moment when it was effected appears in the early sources. In the fourth century, however, the idea of a conversion of the elements finds expression. When that occurred, it became important to define the moment of the change. If one followed the “institution” narrative strand of thought, then it was natural to conclude that the repetition of the words of Jesus constituted the decisive moment. This was the emphasis in the West, as may be seen in Ambrose (IX. 12). If one thought in terms of the coming of the divine life as the important aspect, then it was natural to make the invocation of the Holy Spirit or the personal Word as the decisive moment when the divine power entered the elements. This was the line followed in the eastern churches and may be seen in Cyril of Jerusalem (IX. 10). Both developments are late, and the second-century texts can best be explained if the reader understands the prayer of thanksgiving as a whole rather than some particular part of it as constituting the “consecration” of the elements.
With this sketch of our understanding of the main ideas we may turn to look at some of the specific texts.
Ignatius clearly represents the anti-heretical thrust in his references to the Lord’s supper . He indicates that some Docetists were so “spiritual” in their religion that they abstained from the church’s services of prayer and eucharist so as to avoid the material elements (IX.1). Ignatius repeatedly emphasizes the humanity of Jesus Christ, at once both God and man.3 The material elements indicate a real flesh, and their use is a defense against a Docetic view of Christ. The one assembly of the faithful was a safeguard against the divisive influences of the false teachers. Ignatius has a great deal to say about unity, the oneness of the Christian faith (VIII. I).4 The “altar,” or “place of sacrifice” for him is the church in assembly where the sacrifice of prayer is offered to God.5 Selections VIII.1 and IX. 1, 2 demonstrate that Ignatius’ organizational concern had to do with the unity of the church; the “one bishop” with the presbytery and deacons, like the one eucharist, was a center of loyalty, and this oneness may be stressed more in theory and polemic than was practiced in reality (see Ch. XIV).
Ignatius also appears to give the first statement about the supernatural benefits to be found in the partaking of the eucharist in his phrase “the medicine of immortality” (IX.2). “Breaking one bread” is the “antidote that we should not die.” Once more, the anti-heretical emphasis on unity is in the forefront. But Ignatius seems to give special powers to the bread itself. The material element was a means of spiritual blessing. Nevertheless, it has been argued that Ignatius is attributing the medicinal value not to the bread but to the “breaking of bread.”6 In other words, the gift of eternal life is found in the common assembly where one is united with Christ in the one faith. To partake of false teaching, in contrast, is to take deadly medicine.7
Justin’s explanation of the eucharist (IX.3), which follows his account of the rite (VIII.4), has been a battleground, for everyone has read his opinion into Justin’s words. This is possible, because, with some elaboration, Justin repeats the words of the Scriptures. The bread and wine are real material elements. Even after the prayer of consecration they are what nourish the body through the change which takes place in digestion. The interest in Justin’s statement especially derives from the implication that some change takes place before this. The elements are not “common” food any more. This may not be significant, but Justin’s further statement compares them to the incarnation. As Christ became flesh, so the bread and wine become flesh and blood. Does Justin mean a conversion has been effected? Or does he suggest, like Irenaeus after him (IX.4), that as the divine has become human, so the material now has a heavenly reality added to it? Or does he only stress the reality of the incarnation since we have to do with material reality? We prefer the last, because realist terminology in the second century is so often anti-Gnostic. The second alternative is possible, since on many points Irenaeus seems to be an elaboration of anticipations in Justin. The first we consider unlikely, at least as regards any extreme change in the nature of the elements. The true literalists in the second century were some fringe Gnostic groups who introduced ideas of magic.8 Elsewhere Justin is explicit that the bread and wine are a “memorial” of the body and blood.9 Justin was struggling to interpret to his pagan readers the Jewish and early Christian idea of a change in function that carried realistic power, but his analogy to the incarnation (itself a difficult concept to pagans) together with his illustration of human digestion could be read as literal realism, which in spite of being ambiguous and problematic was soon to have a powerful doctrinal development. We would conclude that the only “change” is the change involved in the consecration of the elements as a memorial of the body and blood. That leads us to the next difficult feature of Justin’s cryptic description: the prayer which effects the consecration.
The common term in the comparison between the incarnation and the consecration of bread and wine as the body and blood is the “word” (logos). Jesus Christ became flesh “through the word of God,” and the “eucharistizing” takes place “through the prayer of the word that is from him.” Almost every word in the Greek is ambiguous and even a literal English translation does not adequately suggest the options. The central issue is whether “word,” if used with same meaning in both places, is the spoken word or the personal Word. The principal interpretations, based on later liturgical developments, have been that Justin refers either to the words spoken by Jesus at the institution or to an invocation of the heavenly Word. Either interpretation may be defended, but each is full of objections. If “word” in both places is the divine Logos, then there is support for the second interpretation of the preceding paragraph. But we look in vain for other examples of an invocation of the Logos in early literature, and the construction is strained. If the parallel use of “word” is not to be stressed, and if “word” in the second part is the narrative of institution, there is agreement with the following quotation of these words. But is that properly a “prayer”? Perhaps it would be better to think of the “word” as an unspecified formula of prayer which Justin thought derived from Christ10 or the pattern of thanksgiving which Christ had set. Returning to the idea of a parallel usage of “word,” we have the possibility that it is God’s creative or declarative word, in which case the second clause is a prayer for God’s word to be operative in making bread and wine equal the body and blood and so a “consecration by the word of God and prayer.”
Irenaeus shows the change from the early Docetism combatted by Ignatius to the later Gnosticism (IX.4, 5; X.4), for the issues now were not just the nature of Christ but also the nature of the material creation, the relation of Christ to the Creator, and the resurrection of the body. Irenaeus argues that the heretics must acknowledge that the earth is the Lord’s or cease to employ those elements which they deny are his. Christ could not have acknowledged the bread and the mixed cup as his body and blood if he belonged to another Father.11 Since the material elements receive the divine potency of the body and blood, our flesh which is nourished with the eucharist does not go to corruption but partakes of life.
Irenaeus has the realist terminology but not the realist thought. There is no conversion of the elements. Indeed, if there were any change in the substance of the elements, his argument that our bodies-in reality, not in appearance-are raised would be subverted. The bread has the effect of the body; it is sanctified but is not changed materially. Although there is no change of the elements, they are made capable of something else. A heavenly reality is added to the earthly reality. The genuine writings of Irenaeus do not explain what this heavenly “thing” is, whether the Holy Spirit,12 the literal body and blood (unlikely), or the heavenly Logos.
Irenaeus is the first to speak explicitly of a consecration “when it receives the invocation of God.” Irenaeus has been seen as referring to an invocation (epiclesis) for the Holy Spirit. His other references to the body and blood would indicate the use in his services of the words of institution, but that they were thought of as consecratory is not said. It is best to take his “invocation of God” as a general reference to the prayer of thanksgiving. Elsewhere he speaks of the “sanctifying” of the gifts through “giving thanks.”13 The early centuries were not exercised with a “moment” of consecration, for they had not become concerned with a conversion in the elements. The prayer of thanksgiving effected the hallowing of the material for a spiritual purpose.14
The Alexandrian writers Clement and Origen viewed the elements as a symbol, or an allegory. They preserved the distinction between the elements and that which they symbolized.15 The presence of Christ is a spiritual one (more real because spiritual, in their view of things). Consecration gives to the elements the potency of the heavenly reality of which the material elements are a type. Here it is well to remember that in ancient thought a symbol partakes of the reality symbolized to a degree greater than is true in modern thought. Some symbols can be very meaningful to us-the wedding ring or the national flag. If we think of our emotional reaction to a desecration of such a symbol, we may get closer to the realm of ancient perceptions. At any rate, just the language of “symbolism” does not mean what we might think. Although there is a distinction between the symbol and the thing symbolized, the “reality” is in some sense “there.” But neither does this agree with later Medieval views of a change into a real body and blood of Christ.
The same situation prevails in the writings of Tertullian and Cyprian. When they use the language of popular piety they call the elements the body and blood of Christ. Thus Tertullian can speak of the flesh that “feeds on the body and blood of Christ” that the soul might be nourished on its God.16 He speaks of the pain felt when any bread or wine falls on the ground.17 This is carried further by Cyprian who can pass on almost superstitious sounding stories about the results of profanation of the consecrated elements.18 Yet both men when they speak with precision distinguish the symbol from what it represents. The bread was a “figure” of the body. But Tertullian turns the word figura against the Docetism of Marcion (IX.6). The language of symbolism does not help those who deny a real body to Jesus. The bread would not be a figure unless there was first a true body of which it was a figure. There is no shadow without a substance to cast the shadow. Similarly, for Cyprian, literal language about drinking Christ’s blood is balanced by language of remembrance (“commemoration”-X.5) and representation (“shown forth”-IX.7). Both symbolism and realism are present in the thought of Cyprian and Tertullian. The symbolism concerns bread and wine as signs. The realism concerns the spiritual gift that the sign carries with it.19 For Hippolytus, too, the bread and wine are the antitypes, or likenesses of the reality portrayed.20 His consecration prayer (VIII.5) contains both the words of institution and petition for the Holy Spirit, but there is no suggestion of a change in the elements.
Popular piety tended to make a straight identification of the elements with Christ. This simple, unreflective type of realism is seen in the inscription of Abercius, which speaks of receiving the fish, Christ, in the eucharist (XIII. 11 and discussion there, especially note 33 and cf. Plate III).
In the fourth century the idea of a change in the elements themselves, and not just in their purpose (use) or power (effects), becomes explicit. There also appears the distinctive western and eastern explanations of what it is that accomplishes the change, whether the repetition of the words of institution or the invocation of the Holy Spirit.21 In general the East was more “mystical” and the West more “literal.”
Cyril of Jerusalem (IX.9, 10) tried to explain what happens. The Holy Spirit, sent down upon the elements by God in response to the celebrant’s prayer, not only sanctifies but also changes. One becomes united with Christ through the participation. The moment of the change is identified with the invocation (epiclesis). This may still refer to the prayer as a whole in our first selection from Cyril but is a specific petition for the Holy Spirit in the third. Gregory of Nyssa (IX.11) had a more elaborate explanation: the food becomes the body of Christ (itself nourished with the same kind of food), and the physical body is absorbed in his Deity. So, by taking of his body, one shares in Christ’s immortality. By “body” it seems clear that he and Cyril are thinking of the glorified body and not just the crucified body. The novelty of Gregory’s thought is in a measure indicated by the new terminology he employs. The gifts are “transelemented” into something else.
As Cyril and Gregory have followed the invocation and communion strand of thought, Ambrose (IX. 12) picks up the institution and “giving of thanks” strand. But he is no less explicit in his realism about the body and blood. If the treatise On the Sacraments is genuine, as is now generally accepted, Ambrose gave the first full and clear definitions to what became characteristic in the Latin church.22 It was climaxed in the definition of the dogma of transubstantiation, which was achieved in the eleventh to thirteenth centuries. According to that dogma the substance of bread and wine is changed into the substance of the body and blood while the accidental properties of taste and appearance remain those of bread and wine. Transubstantiation was an explanation of how the change in the elements occurred; the belief in the fact of a change was much earlier.
It seems there was a twofold line of development that went something like this. On one hand, consideration of the benefits of partaking of the Lord’s supper led to a consideration of the divine life received. The idea of the power in the elements led to a consideration of the invocation of the Holy Spirit as the means that brought about the spiritual blessings. On the other hand, the realist language in the anti-heretical polemic emphasized a literal identity of Christ with the elements. This centered attention on the words of institution and made them the central idea in effecting the presence of Christ. The introduction of the sacrificial idea produced the medieval doctrine concerning the Mass. But the idea of sacrifice had to expand from the prayers to the elements to the Christ present in the elements. To that development we turn in the next chapter.
Crockett, W. R. Eucharist: Symbol of Transformation. New York: Pueblo, 1989.
Ferguson, Everett. “The Lord’s Supper in Church History: The Early Church Through the Medieval Period.” The Lord’s Supper: Believers Church Perspectives. Ed. Dale R. Stoffer. Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1997. Pp. 21-45.
Lampe, G.W.H. “The Eucharist in the Thought of the Early Church,” Eucharistic Theology Then and Now. “Theological Collections,” 9. London: S.P.C.K., 1968. Pp. 34-58.
MacDonald, A. J., ed. The Evangelical Doctrine of Holy Communion. Cambridge: W. Heffer &. Sons, 1930.
1 For the acceptance of prophetic symbolism in the interpretation of the Christian sacraments cf. A. D. Nock, “Hellenistic Mysteries and Christian Sacraments,” in Early Gentile Christianity and its Hellenistic Background (New York: Harper Torchbook, 1964), p. 125; reprinted in Essays on Religion and the Ancient World, ed. Zeph Stewart (Oxford: Clarendon, 1972) Vol. 2, p. 804. Note H. Wheeler Robinson’s phrase “representative realism” in his article “Hebrew Sacrifice and Prophetic Symbolism,” Journal of Theological Studies, Vol. 43 (1942), pp. 135, 137f.
2 A thesis of Adolf Hamack’s History of Dogma, trans. Neil Buchanan (New York: Dover, 1961 reprint), Vol. 1, pp. 41ff.
3 For example II.3; XIII.2; Smymaeans 1; Romans 3; Ephesians 19.
4 Cf. also Magnesium 7; Ephesians 13.
5 VIII. 1; Ephesians 5 and see our next chapter.
6 Graydon F. Snyder, “The Text and Syntax of Ignatius, Pros Ephesious 20:2c,” Vigiliae Christianae, Vol. 22 (1968), pp. 8-13, argues the case on textual, syntactical, and interpretive grounds. It may be added that this view fits better the context and Ignatius’ stress on the assembly of the church against schismatic assemblies.
7 Trallians 6.
8 The Gnostic Marcus managed to color the wine during his consecratory prayer to give the appearance of actual blood-Irenaeus, Against Heresies 1.13.2. Clement of Alexandria, Excerpts from Theodotus 82 speaks of “bread . . . sanctified by the power of the name and not the same in appearance as when received, but transformed by power into spiritual power.” Did the kind of realism represented by these Gnostics have something to do with the orthodox emphasis on spiritual benefits?
9 In Dialogue with Trypho 70 Justin says that Isaiah 33:13-19 refers to “the bread which our Christ delivered to us to make into a memorial of his having been made flesh for the sake of those who believe in him and for whose sake he suffered, and to the cup which he delivered to us to make into a memorial of his blood by the giving of thanks.” Cf. X.2. The different terminology from the Apology (addressing pagans) used in addressing a Jew is noteworthy.
10 E. G. C. F. Atchley, On the Epiclesis of the Eucharistic Liturgy and in the Consecration of the Font (Oxford, 1935), chapter 3.
11 Against Heresies 4.33.2, which brief statement brings out the point of the argument in the longer passages we have quoted.
12 This is found in the spurious Fragment 37, which appears to have been an ingenious combination of Irenaeus’ eucharistic conceptions in terms of later Greek ideas.
13 Against Heresies 4.18.6.
14 Origen, Against Celsus 8.33 refers to the prayer of thanksgiving that makes the bread a “sacred body,” which sanctifies the participants. Note in Plates III and IV the hands extended in blessing at the giving of thanks.
15 Charles Bigg, The Christian Platonists of Alexandria (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1886), pp. 103-107, 219-222. Among the principal references are Clement, Instructor 1.6.43, where John 6 is interpreted as the partaking of faith, of the Holy Spirit, and of the Divine Word; 2.2.19f., where wine is the symbol of the sacred blood and the real presence is that of the Spirit; Origen, Commentary on Matthew 11.14, “the typical and symbolical body”; Commentary Series in Matthew 85; Homily in Leviticus 7.5.
16 On the Resurrection of the Flesh 8.3.
17 On the Crown 3.4.
18 On the Lapsed 25.
19 C. W. Dugmore, “Sacrament and Sacrifice in the Early Fathers,” Journal of Ecclesiastical History, Vol. 2 (1951), pp. 24-37; reprinted in Everett Ferguson, ed., Worship in Early Christianity, Studies in Early Christianity, Vol. XV (New York: Garland, 1993), pp. 178-191.
20 Apostolic Tradition 23.1.
21 There was still variety with Greek writers attributing the change to the words of Christ and Latin writers speaking of the invocation. The language of symbolism persisted along with the newer conversion language. See the article by G. W. H. Lampe in the bibliography, pp. 51-52.
22 Similar ideas in On the Mysteries 9.50-58; On the Christian Faith 4.10.125.