Let us bring the ark of the covenant of the LORD here from Shiloh, so that he may come among us and save us from the power of our enemies.
The Philistines have captured the ark of the covenant, the very vessel that contained the tablets with the ten commandments. The Israelites believed that God’s presence was contained in the ark, and to have the ark in one’s possession meant to be somehow protected. Especially when things were going badly, the Israelites sought the protection of the ark, as if it held special powers.
The accompanying reflection for this section by N. T. Wright focuses on the idea of sacraments. In my faith tradition, a sacrament is an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace. Baptism, the pouring of water and anointing with oil are signs of God’s indwelling and claiming of a person. Something real happens with sacraments, it’s not just a representation. This is why sacramental Christians have been so eager to return to church during this time of pandemic; something real happens at Holy Communion. Grace is conveyed in a real way, sure and certain. Yes, God’s grace is conveyed in other ways, and isn’t a certainty.
I remember a class I took on the Eucharist, on how as a deacon we set the table, and assist with Eucharist. I was a little troubled that God’s grace could only be conveyed at an altar, and a priest, and little bread wafers that look more like fish food than bread. I’d recently participated in a congregant meal for the homeless that was far more grace-filled than some Eucharist services. Were they suggesting that that wasn’t a God granted grace filled moment? Did we really need to have a priest bless and consecrate the bread in order for it to be Eucharistic?
The consensus was that while God’s grace is often conveyed elsewhere without a priest or consecration, in our tradition, it is a certainty with the consecration by a priest. I’ve been to plenty of meals where bread or wine are shared and God’s grace is absolutely conveyed, with or without a priest. And I’ve been to plenty where God’s grace wasn’t present. Our tradition holds that the sacraments are sure and certain.
It doesn’t have to be at a fancy altar or using the prescribed words. I was at a church service a few years ago held by a downtown church, held in conjunction with a meal for the community’s neediest folks. It didn’t look anything like church, except it had all the parts. People, bread, wine, a reading from the Gospel, Lord’s Prayer, prayers for the good and bad, and a priest. It was a lovely church service, and deeply meaningful for those who attended.
I had a priest friend explain to me that to be a person of faith, people need to believe that something is absolutely true, something bigger than themselves. In grossly oversimplified terms, he relayed that many protestant Christians hold Scripture to be absolutely true. Roman Catholic Christians hold that the institution of the Church is absolutely true. Anglicans hold that sacraments are absolutely true. Again, this is a gross stereotype, but there is some truth to it, at least it makes sense to me.
Of course the challenge with any of these absolute truths is that they can become talisman or constraints. People who hold that scripture is absolute truth can get hung up on parts of scripture’s truths, while dismissing other parts that are less convenient. But truth is truth. People who hold that the institution is true can get wrapped up in defending an institution that is fallible, while still holding that the institution is beyond reproach. And people who believe sacraments are true can turn them into idols or talisman, as did the Israelites with their idea that the ark of the covenant would protect them.
I don’t have an answer to this, other than to suggest that it’s ok to hold something as true, as long as we don’t let it get in the way between us and God. After all, that is the point.
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