Nick Batzig, in an article “Communing with Christ in the Supper” writes:

Recently, a video of Francis Chan surfaced in which he tries to explain what he now believes about the real physical presence of Christ in the Lord’s Supper. Without wishing to dissect the many erroneous arguments Chan made about the unity of the visible church throughout the first fifteen hundred years of church history and the role of preaching in the early church, I do wish to make a few observations about his misplaced statements about how the Supper was viewed throughout church history–and especially by a few of the leading sixteenth century Protestant and Reformed theologians.

Chan insists that the church unanimously accepted the idea that the bread and the wine become the real physical body and blood of Jesus. He says, “for the first fifteen hundred years of church history everyone saw it as the literal body and blood of Christ.” This is to fail to understand that the theory of transubstantiation was first formulated by the ninth century Benedictine monastic abbott, Paschasius Radbertus, and adopted as Roman Catholic dogma at the Fourth Lateran council in 1215. In his article “The Meal that Divides,” Keith Mathison gives a helpful survey of the development of Radbertus’ doctrine of transubstantiation and an explanation of the controversy between Radbertus and Ratramnus over the presence of Christ in the Supper in the ninth and tenth centuries.

Chan then blames the Protestant Reformation for divisions that exist in the church–largely with respect to the Lord’s Supper. He says, “it wasn’t ’til five hundred years ago that someone popularized a thought that it’s just a symbol.” Of course, this is a failure to understand the contention between Luther and Zwingli–as well as the distinctions between the view of Calvin and the members of the Westminster Assembly.

The debate between Luther and Zwingli was not–as so many have wrongly taught–that of the distinction between the real presence of Christ and a mere symbol. The debate centered on the distinction between the real local (i.e. earthly physical) presence of Christ and the real spiritual presence of Christ. Luther believed that the physical body and blood of Jesus was “in, with, and under” the bread and the wine. In this way, Luther sought to distinguish his view (i.e. consubstantiation) from the Roman Catholic view of transubstantiation. The problem with Luther’s view, as Geerhardus Vos explained, is that it adopts a faulty Christology to explain the Supper. According to the Lutheran view, the divine nature of Christ must really and truly communicate to the human nature something that does not properly belong to it–namely, omnipresence. Vos explained,

“If Christ, also according to His humanity, is present in and with bread and wine, wherever these are used, then in every instance a power must be communicated to the humanity that it ordinarily (outside of Christ) does not possess. The doctrine of the Lord’s Supper thus presupposes the communication of something by the deity to the humanity.”1

Zwingli and the Swiss, by way of contrast, insisted that the Supper was symbolic and that it was the spiritual and sacramental presence of Christ that accompanied the bread and wine. Zwingli’s aversion to Luther’s view was not in the real presence of Christ but in the real local bodily presence of Christ in the Supper. In chapter 4 of his Exposition to the Christian Faith, Zwingli stated,

“The body of Christ is, therefore, not eaten by us, literally or in substance, and all the more not quantitatively, but only sacramentally and spiritually…He is not to be looked for in the world according to His humanity in literal, substantial, bodily presence, but only in a spiritual and sacramental sense.”2

The distinction that existed between Calvin and the Westminster Divines regarded the question of whether it was the heavenly corporal presence of Christ or the earthy spiritual presence of Christ that was appropriated by believers in the Supper . According to Calvin, the Holy Spirit lifts believers into heaven to spiritually feed upon the body of Christ by faith. Calvin wrote,

“Greatly mistaken are those who conceive no presence of the flesh in the Supper unless it lies in the bread. For thus they leave nothing to the secret working of the Spirit, which unites Christ himself to us. As though, if he should lift us to himself, we should not just as much enjoy his presence!” (Institutes, 4.17.31)

In his commentary on 1 Corinthians 11:24, Calvin explained,

“Hence the bread is Christ’s body, because it assuredly testifies, that the body which it represents is held forth to us, or because the Lord, by holding out to us that symbol, gives us at the same time his own body; for Christ is not a deceiver, to mock us with empty representations. Hence it is regarded by me as beyond all controversy, that the reality is here conjoined with the sign; or, in other words, that we do not less truly become participants in Christ’s body in respect of spiritual efficacy, than we partake of the bread.”3

Robert Letham explains Calvin’s view of the heavenly presence of Christ in Communion, when he writes,

“Christ does not come down to us in his body and blood. Instead, we are lifted up to him by the Holy Spirit. Christ, being the eternal Son of God, is of course, everywhere. Moreover, he has permanently united himself to the human nature assumed in the incarnation. In that sense, the person of Christ is present with us as we eat and drink. Yet, on earth, the Son of God was not restricted or confined to the humanity he assumed, but was simultaneously filling all things, directing the universe even as (according to the flesh) he walked the dusty roads of Palestine. So, at the right hand of God, the Son fills and directs the universe (Col. 1:15-20), now unbreakably united to his assumed humanity, while in terms of that same humanity he is limited and in one place. Yet that humanity is never separate or apart from the divinity, the eternal Son of God with whom and in whom it is one undivided person. Thus, in the sacrament the Holy Spirit unites the faithful to the person of Christ as they eat and drink the signs, the physical elements of bread and wine. There is an inseparable conjunction of sign and reality. As truly as we eat the bread and drink the wine, so we feed on Christ by faith.” (Robert Letham, The Lord’s Supper, 28-29).

This, however, did not mean that Calvin did not also accept a memorial aspect of the Supper. Hughes Oliphant Old–in what is the greatest historical treatment of the Lord’s Supper in the Reformed tradition–explained the dual aspect of the Supper as understood by Calvin, when he wrote,

“What we need to notice is that there is tension between understanding the Lord’s Supper as memorial and the Lord’s Supper as communion. Celebrating the Lord’s Supper as memorial assumes Christ’s absence, while celebrating the Lord’s Supper as communion assumes his presence. The way Reformed piety comes to reconcile the two will be by means of typology. In one case we are dealing with the Passover typology (Exodus 12 and 13); while in the other we are dealing with the Sinai typology (Exodus 24), the meal up on the top of the mountain.

Calvin sees the problem clearly. In his commentary on 1 Corinthians 11:24 he says, “This do in remembrance of me…Some draw the inference from this phrase that, in these circumstances, Christ is not present in the Supper, because there can only be a memorial (memoria) of something that is absent.” Calvin admits this to be true in a certain sense. Christ is not visibly present. He does not leave his place in heaven, and yet when he is remembered the efficacy of his saving work is established among us. This is a kind of presence implied by the word “memorial,” but this is not the last word. As Calvin presents it, we must think of the Supper as communion as well as memorial. We find both words used in the New Testament to speak of the Supper, and as we have been saying, there are a number of words given by Scripture to explain the sacrament.”4

By way of nuanced distinction, the Westminster Confession of Faith teaches that believers really and truly feed on Christ by faith as He is spiritually present in the Supper. They explained that this is not a feeding on His physical flesh and body, but spiritually receive an application of the saving benefits of His death, when they wrote,

“Worthy receivers, outwardly partaking of the visible elements, in this sacrament, do then also, inwardly by faith, really and indeed, yet not carnally and corporally but spiritually, receive, and feed upon, Christ crucified, and all benefits of His death: the body and blood of Christ being then, not corporally or carnally, in, with, or under the bread and wine; yet, as really, but spiritually, present to the faith of believers in that ordinance, as the elements themselves are to their outward senses” (WCF 29.7).

Chad Van Dixhoorn summarizes the teaching of the Westminster Assembly on the presence of Christ in the Supper, when he states,

“‘The body and blood of Christ’ is not during the supper ‘corporally or carnally, in, with, or under the bread and wine’. Christ is not present in the body or in the flesh. No Catholic, or Lutheran, or ‘high Anglican’ formula of real presence in the sense of physical presence is correct. But nor are these doctrines necessary! Spiritual does not mean artificial. Spiritual realities are true realities. And so this confession rightly insists that Christ is present ‘really, but spiritually’ in the supper. He is as ‘present to the faith of believers in that ordinance, as the elements themselves’ are present ‘to their outward senses.’”5

The Scottish theologian, Robert Bruce (c.1554-1631), explained the relation between receiving Christ in the preaching of the gospel and the partaking of the Supper, when he wrote,

“That same thing which you possess by the hearing of the Word, you now possess more fully. God has more room in your soul, through your receiving of the Sacrament, than He could otherwise have by your hearing of the Word only. What then, you ask, is the new thing we get? We get Christ better than we did before. We get the thing which we had more fully, that is, with a surer apprehension than we had before. We get a better grip of Christ now, for by the Sacrament my faith is nourished, the bounds of my soul are enlarged, and so where I had but a little of Christ before, as it were, between my finger and my thumb, now I get Him in my whole hand, and indeed the more my faith grows, the better grip I get of Christ Jesus. Thus the Sacrament is very necessary, if only for the reason that we get Christ better, and get a firmer grasp of Him by the Sacrament, than we could have before.”6

Explanations about the presence of Christ in the Supper have been vast and nuanced throughout church history. However, the fact that Evangelicalism (broadly defined) has failed to acknowledge the real spiritual presence of Christ in the Supper is the bad fruit of nineteenth century Revivalism–rather than the careful exegetical labors of sixteenth century Reformation. For the Reformed (broadly defined), the Supper is both memorial and communion with Christ. Christ’s physical body is located solely in heaven until He comes again. However, by the Holy Spirit, He is present with His people in the means that He has appointed for their spiritual growth in grace–no less in the Supper than in the preaching of the word.

1. Geerhardus Vos, Reformed Dogmatics, ed. Richard B. Gaffin, trans. Annemie Godbehere et al., vol. 3 (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2012–2016), p. 66.

2. https://historeo.com/Resources/A%20Short%20Exposition%20of%20the%20Christian%20Faith%20-%20Zwingli.pdf

3. John Calvin and John Pringle, Commentaries on the Epistles of Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians, vol. 1 (Bellingham, WA: Logos Bible Software, 2010), 378.

4. Hughes Oliphant Old Holy Communion in the Piety of the Reformed Church, ed. by Jon D. Payne. (Powder Springs, GA: Tolle Lege Press, 2013) pp. 69-70.

5. Chad Van Dixhoorn “Through the Westminster Confession, 29.7-8,” on Reformation21, August 3, 2013 https://www.reformation21.org/confession/2013/08/chapter-297-8.php

6. Robert Bruce, “The Sacraments in General,” in The Mystery of the Lord’s Supper: Sermons on the Sacrament preached in the Kirk of Edinburgh in A.D. 1589, ed. Thomas F. Torrance (Richmond, VA: John Knox Press, 1958), p. 64.

Article: What Should I Think About During the Lord’s Supper? by Erik Raymond – original source: https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/erik-raymond/think-lords-supper/

I remember as a new Christian looking around during communion and wondering what everyone was doing. Everyone looked like they were doing something. I didn’t know. Because of this, I’m always happy to answer the question when asked, “What should I think about during the Lord’s Supper?”

The Lord’s Supper is loaded with meaning. It is an ordinance or command, instituted by Jesus to remind his disciples that forgiveness and fellowship are at the heart of the church’s life together. It has been said before that in baptism the new Christian goes public with their profession of faith. In baptism, we are saying publicly, “I am with Jesus and his people.” In the Lord’s Supper, we are pledging our ongoing faithfulness to Christ and his people. We are saying that we are still needy of God’s grace in Christ; we are committed to loving Christ and his people; we are saying we are still with Jesus and one another. Baptism then is the front door along with church membership, and the Lord’s Supper is the dining room table where we renew our vows of faithfulness to Christ’s Word. Naturally, then, the Lord’s Supper is for those who profess faith in Christ. The Supper is a sign of fellowship with Christ and his people.

How should you take communion? I’m not talking about the form of being served, but what should be going on in our hearts and minds as we partake?

Here are some things to consider. Let’s call them the five looks.

Look Up — Since God has invited us to his table, it is appropriate for us to acknowledge he is central. He invites us to his table through Christ. When you celebrate the Lord’s Supper with your church family, look up and consider who God is. He is the unchanging God who is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness. He is the God who has loved even you and me.

Look In — When we look up at who God is, then we have a better view of ourselves. The supper affords us this opportunity. In 1 Corinthians Paul gives instructions for the church when they take the Supper. We see several warnings for those who would come, take and eat.

Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty concerning the body and blood of the Lord. Let a person examine himself, then, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup. (1 Cor. 11:27–28)

Consider if there are sins to confess before the Lord. We don’t live a secret life; the Lord sees it all. To pretend that you are living in a bubble is to act like there is no God. And to be guilty concerning the body and the blood means to eat in a way that dishonors Christ. Therefore when you come to the Lord’s Supper, it is a time to consider your own heart before the Lord. It is a time to clear accounts and confess sin. It’s a time to make sure you that you are genuinely clinging to Christ for your righteousness. There is a need for self-examination.

Look Back — But there is another look. The Lord’s Supper points us back. You’ll notice in the Last Supper that Jesus uses the elements to instruct us about the cross (Matt. 26:17-30). He uses the simple elements of bread and the cup to show that he has broken his body and spilled his blood for us. Jesus says “this is the blood of the covenant.” It’s a vivid image. Jesus is saying that through his death he will bring in the benefits of the New Covenant. Look at Jeremiah 31:31-33.

Behold, the days are coming, declares the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah, not like the covenant that I made with their fathers on the day when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt, my covenant that they broke, though I was their husband, declares the LORD. For this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, declares the LORD: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts. And I will be their God, and they shall be my people.

The promised new covenant is here. God forgives sinners through the new covenant. It has a better priest and a better sacrifice. The blood of the lamb is sufficient to save sinners like you and me. The cup looks to the cross.

You know in the Passover meal this would have been the third cup of wine, the cup of blessing. Jesus is saying that his blood on the cross is the cup of blessing. At the Lord’s Supper, we partake of this blessing. We are regularly reminded that through the body and blood of Christ, on the cross, he secured our standing in a New Covenant. The Lord’s Supper makes us look back.

Look Around — The Lord’s Supper also makes us look around. We read in 1 Corinthians 11:28-29:

Let a person examine himself, then, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment on himself.

Paul is dealing with an issue in the Corinthian church. There’s a lot of selfishness. And we know that selfishness is the root of all sin. He is warning the church to examine their hearts and lives together. There is a need to discern the body. This means to know that you are part of a church family. This local church together is composed of different people with different experiences and various issues. But at least two things are in common: We are sinners, and we are united together by faith in Christ. Therefore, if there are outstanding relational issues, they need to get worked out. We don’t just bury stuff under the rug. We have to deal with it. If it’s a sin, then it needs to be dealt with biblically. If there are issues of disagreement, we need to do our best to work it out. The Lord’s Supper is the regular reminder that we are good with Jesus and that we are good with one another. If one or both of these is not true, then we should not take the Supper. If we are, then we are to enjoy this meal as we look around together, acknowledging the bond of unity.

Look Ahead — Did you notice that Jesus anticipates another meal? He says that he will not drink this cup again until he does in the coming kingdom with his people. He’s anticipating another meal. And when we take the Lord’s Supper, we are too. We are looking ahead to another meal with Jesus and his people. We are looking forward to the great marriage supper of the lamb when the entire church is gathered together to boast in the great saving work of Christ. In Revelation 19:6-9 we read of this great multitude gathered together from all nations and all time. And we will rejoice and exult and give him the glory!

When you take the Lord’s Supper, consider these five looks:

1. Look Up — God has prepared the feast
2. Look In — self-examination
3. Look Back — at the cross
4. Look Around — at your fellow church members
5. Look Ahead — to the marriage feast

As we do we’ll be reminded again that forgiveness and fellowship are at the heart of our lives together as Christians.

Article by Dr. Keith A. Mathison – source: https://tabletalkmagazine.com/article/2006/11/calvins-doctrine-lords-supper/

John Calvin is widely considered to be one of the greatest theologians of the Reformation era. Many associate his name with doctrines such as the sovereignty of God, election, and predestination, but fewer are aware that he wrote extensively on the doctrine of the Lord’s Supper. The topic occupied many of his sermons, tracts, and theological treatises throughout his career. Calvin’s emphasis was not unusual. Among the many doctrines debated during the Reformation, the Lord’s Supper was discussed more than any other.

By the time Calvin became a prominent voice in the late 1530s, the Reformers had been debating the Lord’s Supper with Roman Catholics and with each other for years. In order to understand Calvin’s doctrine of the Lord’s Supper, it is necessary to understand the views he opposed. Throughout the later Middle Ages and up until the sixteenth century, the Roman Catholic doctrine of the Mass was the received view in the Western church. Two aspects of the Roman Catholic doctrine require comment: Rome’s view of the Eucharistic presence and Rome’s view of the Eucharistic sacrifice.

According to Rome, Christ’s presence in the sacrament is to be explained in terms of the doctrine of transubstantiation. The doctrine of transubstantiation asserts that when the priest says the words of consecration, the substance of the bread and wine is transformed into the substance of the body and blood of Christ. The accidens (that is, the incidental properties) of the bread and wine remain the same. Rome also teaches that the Eucharist is a propitiatory sacrifice; in fact, the same sacrifice Christ offered on the cross. The Eucharistic sacrifice is offered for the sins of the living and the dead.

The Reformers were united in their rejection of both aspects of Rome’s doctrine of the Lord’s Supper. They rejected transubstantiation, and they rejected the idea that the Lord’s Supper is a propitiatory sacrifice. In his book The Babylonian Captivity of the Church (1520), Martin Luther attacked both of these doctrines. Also opposed to Rome’s doctrine was the Swiss Reformer Ulrich Zwingli. However, although Luther and Zwingli agreed in their rejection of Rome’s doctrine, they were not able to come to agreement on the true nature of the Lord’s Supper.

Zwingli argued that Christ’s words “This is my body” should be read, “This signifies my body.” He claimed that the Lord’s Supper is a symbolic memorial, an initiatory ceremony in which the believer pledges that he is a Christian and proclaims that he has been reconciled to God through Christ’s shed blood. Martin Luther adamantly rejected Zwingli’s doctrine, insisting that Christ’s words “This is my body” must be taken in their plain, literal sense.

Martin Luther argued that although Rome’s explanation of Christ’s true presence in the Lord’s Supper was wrong, the fact of Christ’s true presence was correct. He offered a different explanation for the presence of Christ. In order to understand his view, however, a brief explanation of some rather obscure theological terminology is required. Medieval scholastic theologians had distinguished various modes of presence, or ways of being present. They used the term local presence to describe the way in which physical, finite things are present in a circumscribed place. Spiritual presence described the way in which spiritual beings (such as angels, souls, or God) are present. Because this term was somewhat vague, other terms were used in order to be more specific. Illocal presence, for example, described the way in which finite spiritual beings (for example, human souls or angels) are present, while repletive presence described the way in which an infinite spiritual being (God) is present.

Zwingli argued that the only mode of presence proper to the human body of Christ was “local presence.” Therefore, according to Zwingli, Christ’s body is locally present in heaven and nowhere else until the Second Advent. Luther rejected Zwingli’s view, claiming that other modes of presence were proper to Christ’s human body — specifically the illocal mode of presence. Because Christ’s body can be present in an illocal manner, according to Luther, it can be present in the bread of the Lord’s Supper. In his Confession Concerning Christ’s Supper (1528), Luther argues that there is a “sacramental union” between the substance of Christ’s body and the bread resulting in a new and unique substance that Luther refers to as fleischbrot (“flesh-bread”). Thus, according to Luther, Christ’s human body is present in the Lord’s Supper supernaturally in a real and illocal manner.

Calvin’s first significant contribution to the subject appeared in the 1536 edition of his Institutes, by which time the battle lines had already been drawn. He continued to progressively clarify and explain his doctrine of the Supper over the next two decades. Calvin’s doctrine of the Supper was very much influenced by Luther, but others were just as instrumental in shaping his approach to the subject. Among those whose influence is discernible are Augustine, Philip Melanchthon, Martin Bucer, and Peter Martyr Vermigli.

Calvin followed Augustine in defining a sacrament as “a visible sign of a sacred thing” or as a “visible word” of God. The sacraments, according to Calvin, are inseparably attached to the Word. The sacraments seal the promises found in the Word. In regard to the Lord’s Supper, more specifically, it is given to seal the promise that those who partake of the bread and wine in faith truly partake of the body and blood of Christ. Calvin explains this in terms of the believer’s mystical union with Christ. Just as baptism is connected with the believer’s initiation into union with Christ, the Lord’s Supper strengthens the believer’s ongoing union with Christ.

All of this raises a question. How does Calvin understand the nature of Christ’s presence in the Supper? According to Calvin the sacraments are signs. The signs and the things signified must be distinguished without being separated. Calvin rejects the idea that the sacramental signs are merely symbols (for example, Zwingli). But he also rejects the idea that the signs are transformed into the things they signify (for example, Rome). Calvin argues that when Christ uses the words, “This is my body,” the name of the thing signified (“body”) is applied to the sign (the bread).

Calvin repeatedly stated that his argument with the Roman Catholics and with Luther was not over the fact of Christ’s presence, but only over the mode of that presence. According to Calvin, Christ’s human body is locally present in heaven, but it does not have to descend in order for believers to truly partake of it because the Holy Spirit effects communion. The Holy Spirit is the bond of the believer’s union with Christ. Therefore that which the minister does on the earthly plane, the Holy Spirit accomplishes on the spiritual plane. In other words, those who partake of the bread and wine in faith are also, by the power of the Holy Spirit, being nourished by the body and blood of Christ.

This, of course, raises a second question regarding the mode by which believers partake of the body and blood of Christ. Zwingli had argued that to eat and drink the body and blood of Christ was simply a synonym for believing in Christ. Calvin begged to differ. He argued that the eating of the body of Christ is not equivalent to faith; instead, it is the result of faith. Calvin often used the term “spiritual eating” to describe the mode by which believers partake, but he is careful to define what he means. He asserts repeatedly that “spiritual eating” does not mean that believers partake only of Christ’s spirit. “Spiritual eating” means, according to Calvin, that by faith believers partake of the body and blood of Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit who pours the life of Christ into them.

Calvin also rejected the idea that we partake of the body and blood of Christ with the mouth. Not only Rome, but Luther and his followers, asserted the doctrine of oral manducation (that is, oral eating). According to the Lutherans, the body of Christ is orally eaten, but it is a supernatural or hyperphysical eating rather than a natural or physical eating. Both believers and unbelievers receive the body of Christ according to the Lutherans, although unbelievers receive it to their own judgment. Calvin denied that unbelievers receive the body of Christ at all. According to Calvin, the body and blood of Christ are objectively offered to all, but only received by believers.

According to Calvin, the Lord’s Supper is also “a bond of love” intended to produce mutual love among believers. It is to inspire thanksgiving and gratitude. Because it is at the very heart of Christian worship, Calvin argued that it should be observed whenever the Word is preached, or “at least once a week.” It should be shorn of all superstition and observed in its biblical simplicity. Calvin considered the Lord’s Supper to be a divine gift given by Christ himself to His people to nourish and strengthen their faith. As such, it is not to be neglected, but rather celebrated often and with joy.

Article by Josh Buice (original source here)

When it comes to worship, there are no shortage of opinions on how it should be done. However, when it comes to worship, we must likewise remember that we have a sufficient guide in holy Scripture. Everything about how God desires to be worshipped can be found in the pages of the Bible.

Jesus instituted the Lord’s Supper at the very moment of his Last Supper with his disciples. His time of celebration with them involved the observation of the Passover feast—a yearly meal designed to remember the deliverance of God’s people from Egypt. The Passover feast predates the tabernacle, the establishment of the law, and Israel’s priesthood (Ex. 12:15-17). As Jesus celebrated with his followers, he likewise pointed them to the culmination of the Passover in the Lord’s Supper since Jesus is the fulfillment of the promises and sacrificial system of Israel’s history. Jonathan Edwards wrote in his A History of the Work of Redemption, “Christ and his redemption are the subject of the whole Word of God.” [1]

Since Jesus instated the Lord’s Supper as a means of continual worship (see the language of 1 Corinthians 11:26), the way in which we engage in worship at the Lord’s Table matters. We should intentionally aim at theological precision and emotional balance. We should approach the Lord’s Table with tears of sorrow and smiles of joy. We must avoid superficial cliché worship and sacramentalism at the same time. With that in mind, there are two ways to engage in worship at the Lord’s Table that honor God.

A Heart of Sorrow
As Jesus ate and drank with his disciples, he said these words, “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (1 Cor. 11:26). We are to remember the body and blood of Jesus that was nailed to a Roman cross and we’re called to proclaim his death until Christ returns.

As Jesus instituted the Lord’s Supper, he said, “Do this in remembrance of me” (1 Cor. 11:24). To remember the death of Jesus requires a sober mind and one that leads to a heart of sorrow. Consider the Son of God betrayed by a friend, accused of blasphemy, beaten beyond recognition, publicly humiliated, nailed to a cross, and raised up in open shame. Consider the pain and discomfort he was experiencing at that moment. Consider the crushing weight of the sins of all of his people being laid upon him. This scene brings us to a place of sorrow.

Furthermore, our sorrow is not merely sentimental—it’s personal sorrow. It’s personal sorrow based on personal sin. The crushing blow of the God’s wrath was unleashed on Jesus for the sins of his people. As we remember this scene, we have to recall the fact that Jesus was paying for our sin debt—our personal sins—each and every one of them. This should bring us to a proper place of humility and sorrow.

A Heart of Joy
How can the scene of the dying Savior bring us to a place of joy and celebration? The emotion of sorrow seems much more fitting, so how do we arrive at joy as we stand in the shadow of the cross of Jesus? The answer is found in how Jesus’ sacrifice became the fulfillment of the long awaited promise of Genesis 3:15. Did Jesus satisfy the Father’s wrath? Did Jesus pay in full our sin debt? With absolute certainty he accomplished those realities, and in doing so he accomplished the plan of redemption in victory.

Consider the words of the apostle Paul as he describes the work of Jesus, stating he forgave us “by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross. He disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him” (Colossians 2:14–15).

We can celebrate at the Lord’s Table as we consider the victory that has been secured by Jesus for each and every one of his people. Not one single sin will be held to our account. There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus (Rom. 8:1). Every single sin was nailed to the cross and Christ paid our debt in full. By doing so, Jesus disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame. His substitutionary death was the fulfillment of Genesis 3:15, therefore, we can celebrate as we gather around the Lord’s Table to remember the body and blood of King Jesus. We don’t approach the Lord’s Table with a heart fueled by superficial clichés. We approach the Lord’s Table with a heart filled with sorrow and overflowing with joy. J.C. Ryle, in his commentary on Matthew 26, writes the following:

Are we in the habit of coming to the Lord’s table? If so, in what frame of mind do we come? Do we draw near intelligently, humbly, and with faith? Do we understand what we are doing? Do we really feel our sinfulness and need of Christ? Do we really desire to live a Christian life, as well as profess the Christian faith? Happy is that soul who can give a satisfactory answer to these questions. Let him go forward, and persevere.

(1) Philip Graham Ryken and R. Kent Hughes, Exodus: Saved for God’s Glory (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2005), 330.

Article: “I Am the Bread of Life” by Cameron Buettel (original source here)

Christ’s preaching has a tendency to shock our sensibilities. One of His most vexing statements occurs in the gospel of John: “He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life” (John 6:54).

All sorts of theories and theological mischief have been concocted around those words. They were simply too disturbing for most of Jesus’ disciples who subsequently abandoned Him (John 6:66). Early on in church history that statement was the cause of pagan rumors that Christians practiced cannibalism. And Roman Catholics now use John 6:54 as justification for their belief that the elements of the Lord’s Table—the bread and the wine—are literally Christ’s flesh and blood.

Like most troubling theological issues, biblical context is critical if we are to come to a right understanding of Christ’s words in John 6:54. And John MacArthur does just that in his sermon, “I Am the Bread of Life.” In it he walks us through John 6:32–59 to bring clarity concerning Jesus’ discourse on Himself as the true eternal food all men need.

Hunger is a natural part of the human experience. We were created by God with a built-in desire for sustenance when our body lacks what it needs. But spiritual hunger is far more elusive to those who are spiritually destitute.

John 6 signifies the high-water mark of Christ’s ministry by every external metric of human success. His popularity had peaked as crowds thronged around Him. Stories of His miracles were spreading far and wide. And His expertise in all matters threatened the influence of every other established religious leader.

But Jesus wasn’t swayed by the veneer of a growing kingdom. Miraculously feeding thousands of hungry people in the desert (John 6:1–14) only inflamed their desires for more temporal satisfaction. They wanted more, but their hunger didn’t extend beyond their empty bellies.

John MacArthur’s message, “I Am the Bread of Life” digs right into the discussion between Christ and His legions of followers. He explains what really transpired and why Christ continually referred to Himself as “the bread of life” in contrast to the perishable bread the crowds longed for. And he reveals how God is the author of spiritual hunger as well as physical hunger. Ultimately, Pastor John answers two fundamental questions: Where do we find the bread of life, and how do we eat the bread of life?

Those questions form the dividing line between those who are Christ’s true disciples and those who are false disciples destined for apostasy. Answering them explains how we are to eat Christ’s flesh and drink His blood and inherit eternal life.

Click here to watch or listen to “I Am the Bread of Life.”

1 Cor 11:23ff

Dr. James White:

Heidelberg Catechism: Dr. Joel Beeke

Celebrating the Lord’s Supper Rightly:

(1) Its right versus wrong meaning (Q. 80)
(2) Its right versus wrong participants (Q. 81-82)

Union and Communion with Christ at the Lord’s Table:

(1) An assuring, promised union (75,77)
(2) A saving, spiritual union (76a)
(3) A growing, mysterious union (76b)

“Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty concerning the body and blood of the Lord.” (1 Cor. 11:27)

John Calvin:

In seeking to prepare for eating the Lord’s Supper worthily, men have often dreadfully harassed and tortured miserable consciences, and yet have failed to reach their goal. They have said that you must be “in a state of grace” in order to eat worthily. What does it mean to be in a state of grace? They have interpreted this to mean being pure and free from all sin. By this definition, all the men that ever have been, and all who are on the earth now, are barred from the use of this sacrament. For if we are to seek our worthiness from ourselves, it is all over with us; only despair and fatal ruin await us. Though we struggle to the utmost, we will not only make no progress, but we would only be more unworthy after we have labored most to make ourselves worthy.

To cure this ulcer, they have devised a mode of procuring worthiness: After having, as far as we can, made an examination and taken an account of all our actions, we are to be cleansed of our unworthiness by contrition, confession, and satisfaction. I say that such things, at best, give poor and fleeting comfort to alarmed and downcast consciences, struck with terror at their sins. For if the Lord admits only the righteous and innocent to partake of his Supper, every man would have to be very cautious before feeling that he had righteousness of his own which God requires.

How could we be assured that we have truly done everything in our power to discharge our duty to God? Even if we could be assured of this, who would then venture to assure himself that he, in fact, had done all that he could do? So, we would have no certain security for our worthiness, and access to the Supper would always be excluded by the fearful warning, “Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty concerning the body and blood of the Lord.” (1 Cor. 11:27)

It is now easy to judge what is the nature, and who is the author, of this kind of teaching. Certainly the devil could have no shorter method of destroying men than by thus excluding them from the taste and savor of this food which their most merciful Father in heaven is pleased to feed them. To avoid running off such a cliff, let us remember that this sacred feast is medicine to the sick, comfort to the sinner, and bounty to the poor. To the healthy, the righteous, and the rich (if any could be found) the Lord’s Supper would be of no value. For Christ is given us for food in the Supper, and we perceive that without him we fail and waste away, just as hunger destroys the vigor of the body. As he is given to us for life, so we perceive that without him we are certainly dead.

So, the best and only worthiness which we can bring to God, is to offer him our own vileness, and unworthiness, that his mercy may make us worthy:

to despond in ourselves, that we may be consoled in him
to humble ourselves, that we may be elevated by him
to accuse ourselves, that we may be justified by him
We are also to aspire to the unity which he recommends in the Supper; and, as he makes us all one in himself, we are to desire to have all one soul, one heart, one tongue.

If we ponder and meditate on these things, we may be shaken, but will never be overwhelmed by the consideration of this vital question, “How shall we, who are devoid of all good, polluted by sin, and half dead, worthily eat the body of the Lord?” We shall rather consider that we, who are poor, are coming to a benevolent giver, sick to a physician, sinful to the author of righteousness, in fine, dead to him who gives life.

The worthiness which is commanded by God, consists especially in faith, which places all things in Christ, nothing in ourselves, and in love, which, though imperfect, may be sufficient to offer to God, that he may increase it, since it cannot be fully rendered.

Some, agreeing that worthiness consists in faith and charity, have demanded a perfection of faith to which nothing can be added, and a love equivalent to that which Christ manifested towards us. And in this way, they, too, bar all men from access to this sacred feast. For, if they are correct, everyone who receives the Supper must receive unworthily, since all, are guilty of great imperfection. And certainly it is too stupid, not to say idiotic, to require, as the basis for receiving the sacrament, a perfection which would render the sacrament vain and superfluous. The Lord’s Supper was not instituted for the perfect, but for the sick and weak, to stir up, excite, stimulate, exercise the feeling of faith and love, and at the same time correct the deficiency of both.

[From Institutes of the Christian Religion, Book 4, Ch. 17, Sec. 41-42, trans. by Henry Beveridge, ed. by Jason Van Bemmel.]