The Heavenly Feast
I not drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.
The Lord’s Supper points forward as well as back. It keeps the past in remembrance; we are to think of what happened nineteen hundred years ago. The Supper is a memorial. But it is also a prophecy. Christ wrote the white lines as a blessed hope amid the mementoes of sorrow. He lifted the veil and gave a glimpse of a fulfillment very glorious beyond earth’s shadows. Even the Holy Supper, precious as it is, is but a faint picture of something far better.
The disciples would not have Jesus with them at the table any more. This was their “last supper” together. Henceforth on earth His place would be vacant. But in telling them this He gave them sweet comfort in the assurance that He would sit down with them again, by-and-by, not here, but in another kingdom. These words are full of luminous brightness. They tell us of a supper in glory, of which the Lord’s Supper on earth is but the shadow. In the Revelation it is called “the marriage supper of the Lamb.” So it will be a memorial, too, of Christ’s death and love.
That night when the Master and His disciples sat down together in the upper room, a great sorrow hung over their hearts and His: for Him it was the shadow of His cross, with all its mystery of woe; for them it was the shadow of sore loss and separation. But the other side of the cloud was very bright. Out of Christ’s death came blessed and glorious salvation; now in heaven Jesus sees of the travail of His soul, and is satisfied. Out of the brief separation there came to the disciples an abiding presence of Christ which filled their hearts full. Jesus went away from them for a little time that He might be with them for ever. So out of these sad memories came great joys.