When I lead our church’s celebration of the Lord’s Supper, one sentence near the end almost always gets me. The words catch in my throat; if you look closely, you might spot a tear in the corner of my eye. It’s right before we partake of the cup together, when I read aloud Jesus’ final words in Matthew’s account of the Lord’s Supper: “I tell you I will not drink again of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom” (Matt. 26:29).
Why that sentence? Not why do we read it, which should be obvious enough, but why does it make the back of my neck tingle? Because, out of any moment in a month, that moment brings the future banquet closest to the present. In that moment, hope is not just something I fight for or feel, but something I taste.
In the Lord’s Supper, we remember and proclaim Jesus’ death (1 Cor. 11:25–26). In the Lord’s Supper, we share together by faith the saving benefits of Christ’s sacrifice for us (1 Cor. 10:16–17). And in the Lord’s Supper, we experience a foretaste of the heavenly banquet. The
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