Matthew 26:26-30 * April 5, 2007 * Maundy Thursday * Pastor Pagels

In the name of Jesus, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world:

Imagine that three people have gathered around this table at the base of the altar steps. In the middle is a dealer in antiques. To his right is an avowed atheist. This man is not a member of any church. In fact, this is the first time he has ever been in a church. On the other side is a Christian, a lifelong member of this congregation who never misses a Sunday. As these three men stand around this table in the middle of the sanctuary, what do they see?

The answer depends on each person’s perspective. The antiques dealer removes the white coverings and sees an assortment of pieces of polished silver. The unbeliever’s curiosity leads him to lift off the lids, and he sees hundreds of round wafers and dozens of little cups of wine.

Even though the lifelong Lutheran is looking at the same table as the antiques dealer and the atheist, he sees something different. He sees bread and wine, but he also sees Jesus’ body and blood, the same body and blood Jesus sacrificed on the cross for the sins of the world.

So which one has it right? Who is seeing things correctly and whose eyes are playing tricks on them? If I were to remove the white cloths I would uncover about a collection of fine silver. If I were to remove the silver lids I would discover a good supply of unleavened bread and wine. And if I were to take at face value the words that Jesus first spoke to his disciples on Maundy Thursday (which I do), I would see Jesus’ body and blood whenever I receive the Lord’s Supper.

The truth is that all of these things are present whenever we celebrate communion. In just a few moments you will see the silver cups and plates. You will see the unleavened bread and wine. You will see the Lord’s body and blood.

But that is not all there is for you to see. When you come forward to receive communion this evening, I want you to see something else. As you approach the Lord’s table, I want you to look for something that is hidden. I want you to behold your Savior’s glory. Behold the hidden glory of the cross…

IT IS HIDDEN IN THE SAVIOR’S FEAST

I. A feast so simple that its glory is easily missed

II. A feast that is itself the price of our salvation

Maundy Thursday evening was a time when many God-fearing Jews gathered to celebrate the feast of feasts on the Jewish calendar, and Jesus and his disciples were no different. They had come to Jerusalem along with thousands of other pilgrims to celebrate the Passover. They had come to remember how the Lord delivered their forefathers from slavery in Egypt some 1,500 years earlier. They had come to recall how the angel of death passed over the Jewish homes with lamb’s blood painted on the doorposts.

The Passover was the ultimate Jewish festival. It was a time for God’s people to celebrate God’s glory. It was a time to remember Israel’s former glory. The Passover was kind of like Christmas and Easter all wrapped up into one. And as Jesus and his disciples observed the time-honored traditions that were now hundreds of years old, the Lord took it upon himself to do something new.

Jesus instituted a new feast, a feast that was so simple that its significance was likely lost on his disciples. Jesus’ most devoted followers had devoted themselves to more important matters… like trying to decide which one of them was the greatest (Luke 22:24)…like trying to figure out which one of them should perform the lowly task of washing the rest of the disciples’ feet (John 13).

Jesus spoke about his upcoming suffering and death, but the disciples didn’t want that kind of depressing talk to dampen the festive atmosphere. Jesus spoke openly about his betrayal and about the traitor in their midst, but the disciples didn’t fully grasp what he was saying.

So much was crowded into that evening, so much celebrating Israel’s past, so much confusion about the present, so much concern about the future. Maybe this wasn’t the right time to give the disciples one more thing to think about. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to do establish a new tradition. Or maybe the Passover feast was the perfect time for Jesus to institute a new feast.

Without any fuss or fanfare, the Lord took bread, plain, ordinary unleavened bread. He broke it and distributed it to his disciples and declared: “Take and eat: This is my body” (26). He didn’t explain it. He didn’t tell his disciples to bow down and worship it. He told them to eat it.

And then with equal simplicity Jesus took the cup of wine and gave it to his disciples. “Drink from it, all of you (he said). This is my blood of the new covenant which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” (27,28). Again there was no lengthy explanation. There was no need for an explanation because the Lord’s words were clear. The wine was not a symbol of his blood. It was his blood. The disciples were not to worship that cup. They were to drink from it for the forgiveness of their sins.

Jesus’ words reveal the glory that is hidden in this feast within the feast. Here we see the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. Here we see the body that was sacrificed for your sins and mine. Here we see the blood that was shed on two wooden posts to rescue us from certain death.

Jesus’ disciples struggled to appreciate the glory of that feast because for them it was something entirely new. Disciples of Jesus today sometimes fail to appreciate the glory of this sacred meal because it has become entirely routine.

Counting Sundays and special services communion is offered about thirty times a year at St. John’s. Because it is so readily available it is also easily taken for granted. Perhaps you have been a part of the following conversation: “Is there communion this Sunday? If there is that means we can tack 15 or 20 minutes on to the service.” Or perhaps this thought has crossed your mind, maybe even today. “Today is Maundy Thursday. I suppose I should go to communion because that’s what Christians are supposed to do on Maundy Thursday.”

Because the meal is so simple, it is easy to miss its hidden glory. Because the sacrament is so accessible, it is easy to take it for granted. Communion is not an empty ritual. Communion is not a meaningless ceremony. Communion is not something we do for God. In this holy Supper our Lord and Savior does something very special for us. He comes to us in bread and wine. He gives us his own body and blood. He communes with us in the feast that is itself the price of our salvation.

When Jesus spoke the words of institution in the Upper Room he knew that he would die the very next day. And so those simple, yet powerful words also served as his last will and testament. He didn’t have a diversified portfolio. There were no family heirlooms to bequeath. On that night Jesus gave the only thing he had to give. He gave himself.

“This is my body.” This is my blood.” “Given for you.” And when Jesus said “given for you,” do you know who he was talking about? He was talking about you. On this night when there was so much weighing on his mind, on this night when scourge and crown and nails and spear were clearly in view, Jesus was thinking about you. With nothing else to give, Jesus gave himself to you and for you.

We don’t eat or drink mere symbols in this special feast. It is Jesus’ true body and blood. It is the same Jesus who spoke that night. It is the same Jesus who was sentenced to die the next morning. It is the same Jesus who was still thinking of you when you cried out on the cross: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me” (Matthew 27:46)?

Why was God the Father willing to forsake his one and only Son? Because He was thinking of you too. God abandoned his one and only Son because it was the one and only way to save you from death. The only way was for Jesus to pay for the sins that separate us from God. The only way was for Jesus to endure the torment of hell in our place.

Jesus knew that. Jesus accepted that. On the night before his death he embraced his divine mission. And in anticipation of what he would do on Good Friday Jesus comes to us on Maundy Thursday and says: “Take and eat. This is my body. Take and drink. This is my blood. Given for you for the forgiveness of sins.”

There might be a brief mention of Maundy Thursday tonight on the ten o’clock news. Maybe a few words before the sports, but nothing more. The world doesn’t appreciate the significance of this day. Even Christians, even those of who are gathered here, even we can take for granted the precious gift God gives us on this holy night. And if we judge only by outward appearances we can understand why.

This is an ordinary table. On this table are ordinary vessels that contain ordinary bread and wine. But when these earthly elements are connected with God’s powerful Word, what we have is something quite different, something quite extraordinary. We might even call it glorious.

Here is Jesus, the living bread from heaven. Here is Jesus, the cup of salvation. Here is Jesus, who in this feast gives us his body and blood. Here is Jesus, who tonight gives us the very price he paid for our salvation.

By giving us himself Jesus gives us the one thing every person needs, the forgiveness of sins. That is why he came down from heaven in the first place, to win our forgiveness. That is why he suffered and died, to win our forgiveness. In his body and blood Jesus gives us the forgiveness of sins. And where there is forgiveness of sins, there is also life and salvation. Amen.