The Lord's Supper
Charles Henry Mackintosh
Table of Contents
Preface
The institution of the Lord’s Supper must be regarded, by every spiritual mind, as a peculiarly touching proof of the Lord’s gracious care and considerate love for His church. From the time of its appointment until the present hour, it has been a steady, though silent, witness to a truth which the enemy, by every means in his power, has sought to corrupt and set aside, namely, that redemption is an accomplished fact to be enjoyed by the weakest believer in Jesus. Many centuries have rolled away since the Lord Jesus appointed the bread and the cup as the significant symbols of His broken body and His blood shed for us, and notwithstanding all the heresy, all the schism, all the controversy and strife, and the war of principles and prejudices which the blotted page of ecclesiastical history records, this most expressive institution has been observed by the saints of God in every age. True, the enemy has succeeded, throughout a vast section of the professing church, in wrapping it up in a shroud of dark superstition — in presenting it in such a way as actually to hide from the view of the communicant the grand and eternal reality of which it is the memorial, in displacing Christ and His accomplished sacrifice by a powerless ordinance — an ordinance, moreover, which by the very mode of its administration proves its utter worthlessness and opposition to the truth. (See note to page 28.) Yet, notwithstanding Rome’s deadly error in reference to the ordinance of the Lord’s Supper, it still speaks to every circumcised ear and every spiritual mind the same deep and precious truth — it shows “the Lord’s death till He come.” The body has been broken and the blood has been shed once, no more to be repeated, and the breaking of bread is but the memorial of this emancipating truth.
With what profound interest and thankfulness, therefore, should the believer contemplate the bread and the cup! Without a word spoken, there is the setting forth of truths at once the most precious and glorious: grace reigning—redemption finished — sin put away — everlasting righteousness brought in — the sting of death gone — eternal glory secured — “grace and glory” revealed as the free gift of God and the Lamb —the unity of the “one body,” as baptized by “one Spirit.” What a feast! It carries the soul back, in the twinkling of an eye, over a lapse of hundreds of years, and shows us the Master Himself, in “the same night in which He was betrayed,” sitting at the supper table, and there instituting a feast which, from that solemn moment, that memorable night, until the dawn of the morning, should lead every believing heart at once backward to the cross and forward to the glory.
This feast has ever since, by the very simplicity of its character and yet the deep significance of its elements, rebuked the superstition that would deify and worship it, the profanity that would desecrate it, and the infidelity that would set it aside altogether. Furthermore, while it has rebuked all these, it has strengthened, comforted and refreshed the hearts of millions of God’s beloved saints. It is sweet to think of this — sweet to bear in mind, as we assemble on the first day of the week around the Supper of the Lord, that apostles, martyrs and saints have gathered around that feast and found therein, according to their measure, refreshment and blessing. Schools of theology have arisen, flourished and disappeared; doctors and fathers have accumulated ponderous tomes of divinity; deadly heresies have darkened the atmosphere and rent the professing church from one end to the other; superstition and fanaticism have put forth their baseless theories and extravagant notions; professing Christians have split into sects innumerable—all these things have taken place, but the Lord’s Supper has continued, amid the darkness and confusion, to tell out its simple yet comprehensive tale. “As often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord’s death till He come” (1 Cor. 11:26). Precious feast! Thank God for the great privilege of celebrating it! And yet is it but a sign, the elements of which must, in nature’s view, be mean and contemptible. Bread broken, wine poured out — how simple! Faith alone can read, in the sign, the thing signified, and therefore it needs not the adventitious circumstances which false religion has introduced in order to add dignity, solemnity and awe to that which derives all its value, its power and its impressiveness from its being a memorial of an eternal fact which false religion denies.
May you and I enter with more freshness and intelligence into the meaning of the Lord’s Supper and with deeper experience into the blessedness of breaking that bread which is “the communion of the body of Christ” and drinking of that cup which is “the communion of the blood of Christ.”
In closing these few prefatory lines, I commend this treatise to the Lord’s gracious care, praying Him to make it useful to the souls of His people.
The Lord’s Supper
“I have received of the Lord that which also I delivered unto you, that the Lord Jesus, the same night in which He was betrayed took bread: and when He had given thanks, He brake it, and said, Take, eat; this is My body, which is broken for you: this do in remembrance of Me. After the same manner also He took the cup, when He had supped, saying, This cup is the new testament in My blood: this do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance of Me. For as often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord’s death till He come” (1 Cor. 11:23-26).
I desire to offer a few, brief remarks on the subject of the Lord’s Supper, for the purpose of stirring up the minds of all who love the name and institutions of Christ to a more fervent and affectionate interest in this most important and refreshing ordinance.
We should bless the Lord for His gracious consideration of our need in having established such a memorial of His dying love, and also in having spread a table at which all His members might present themselves without any other condition than the indispensable one of personal connection with and obedience to Him. The blessed Master knew well the tendency of our hearts to slip away from Him and from each other, and to meet this tendency was one, at least, of His objects in the institution of the Supper. He would gather His people around His own blessed person; He would spread a table for them where, in view of His broken body and shed blood, they might remember Him and the intensity of His love for them, and from whence, also, they might look forward into the future and contemplate the glory of which the cross is the everlasting foundation. There, if anywhere, they would learn to forget their differences and to love one another; there they might see around them those whom the love of God had invited to the feast and whom the blood of Christ had made fit to be there.
However, in order that I may the more easily and briefly convey to the mind of my reader what I have to say on this subject, I shall confine myself to the four following points:
The nature of the ordinance of the Lord’s Supper.
The circumstances under which it was instituted.
The persons for whom it was designed.
The time and manner of its observance.
The Nature of the Ordinance of the Lord’s Supper
First, as to the nature of the ordinance of the Lord’s Supper, this is a cardinal point. If we understand not the nature of the ordinance, we shall be astray in all our thoughts about it. The Supper, then, is purely and distinctly a feast of thanksgiving — thanksgiving for grace already received. The Lord Himself, at the institution of it, marks its character by giving thanks. “He . . . took bread: . . . when He had given thanks.” Praise, and not prayer, is the suited utterance of those who sit at the table of the Lord.
True, we have much to pray for, much to confess, much to mourn over, but the table is not the place for mourners: Its language is, “Give strong drink unto him that is ready to perish, and wine unto those that be of heavy hearts. Let him drink, and forget his poverty, and remember his misery no more.” Ours is a “cup of blessing,” a cup of thanksgiving, the divinely appointed symbol of that precious blood which has procured our ransom. “The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ?” How, then, could we break it with sad hearts or sorrowful countenances? Could a family circle, after the toils of the day, sit down to supper with sighs and gloomy looks? Surely not. The supper was the great family meal, the only one that was sure to bring all the family together. Faces that might not have been seen during the day were sure to be seen at the supper table, and no doubt they would be happy there. Just so it should be at the Lord’s Supper: The family should assemble there, and when assembled, they should be happy, unfeignedly happy, in the love that brings them together. True, each heart may have its own peculiar history — its secret sorrows, trials, failures and temptations, unknown to all around, but these are not the objects to be contemplated at the Supper: To bring them into view is to dishonor the Lord of the feast and make the cup of blessing a cup of sorrow. The Lord has invited us to the feast and commanded us, notwithstanding all our shortcomings, to place the fullness of His love and the cleansing efficacy of His blood between our souls and everything, and when the eye of faith is filled with Christ, there is no room for anything beside. If my sin be the object which fills my eye and engages my thoughts, of course I must be miserable, because I am looking right away from what God commands me to contemplate; I am remembering my misery and poverty, the very things which God commands me to forget. Hence the true character of the ordinance is lost, and, instead of being a feast of joy and gladness, it becomes a season of gloom and spiritual depression, and the preparation for it and the thoughts which are entertained about it are more what might be expected in reference to Mount Sinai than to a happy family feast.
If ever a feeling of sadness could have prevailed at the celebration of this ordinance, surely it would have been on the occasion of its first institution, when, as we shall see when we come to consider the second point in our subject, there was everything that could possibly produce deep sadness and desolation of spirit. Yet the Lord Jesus could “give thanks”; the tide of joy that flowed through His soul was far too deep to be ruffled by surrounding circumstances; He had a joy even in the breaking and bruising of His body and in the pouring forth of His blood which lay far beyond the reach of human thought and feeling. And if He could rejoice in spirit and give thanks in breaking that bread which was to be to all future generations of the faithful the memorial of His broken body, should not we rejoice therein, we who stand in the blessed results of all His toil and passion? Yes; it becomes us to rejoice.
But it may be asked, Is there no preparation necessary? Are we to sit down at the table of the Lord with as much indifference as if we were sitting down to an ordinary supper table? Surely not — we need to be right in our souls, and the first step toward this is peace with God — that sweet assurance of our eternal salvation which most certainly is not the result of human sighs or penitential tears, but the simple result of the finished work of the Lamb of God, attested by the Spirit of God. Apprehending this by faith, we apprehend that which makes us perfectly fit for God. Many imagine that they are putting honor upon the Lord’s table when they approach it with their souls bowed down into the very dust, under a sense of the intolerable burden of their sins. This thought can only flow from the legalism of the human heart, that ever-fruitful source of thoughts at once dishonoring to God, dishonoring to the cross of Christ, grievous to the Holy Spirit, and completely subversive of our own peace. We may feel quite satisfied that the honor and purity of the Lord’s table are more fully maintained when the blood of Christ is made the only title than if human sorrow and human penitence were added to it.
However, the question of preparedness will come more fully before us as we proceed with our subject. I shall therefore state another principle connected with the nature of the Lord’s Supper, that there is involved in it an intelligent recognition of the oneness of the body of Christ. “The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ? For we being many are one bread, and one body: for we are all partakers of that one bread.” Now there was sad failure and sad confusion in reference to this point at Corinth; indeed, the great principle of the church’s oneness would seem to have been totally lost sight of there. Hence the Apostle observes that “when ye come together . . . into one place, this is not to eat the Lord’s supper, for . . . every one taketh before other his own supper” (1 Cor. 11:20-21). Here, it was isolation, and not unity; an individual, and not a corporate question: “His own supper” is strikingly contrasted with “the Lord’s supper.” The Lord’s Supper demands that the body be fully recognized: If the one body be not recognized, it is but sectarianism; the Lord Himself has lost His place. If the table be spread upon any narrower principle than that which would embrace the whole body of Christ, it is become a sectarian table and has lost its claim upon the hearts of the faithful. On the contrary, where a table is spread upon this divine principle, which embraces all the members of the body simply as such, everyone who refuses to present himself at it is chargeable with schism, and that, too, upon the plain principles of 1 Corinthians 11. “There must,” says the Apostle, “be heresies among you, that they which are approved may be made manifest among you.”
When the great church principle is lost sight of by any portion of the body, there must be heresies, in order that the approved ones may be made manifest! And under such circumstances it becomes the business of each one to approve himself, and so to eat. The “approved” ones stand in contrast with the heretics, or those who were doing their own will.
But it may be asked, Do not the numerous denominations at present existing in the professing church altogether preclude the idea of ever being able to gather the whole body together? And, under such circumstances, is it not better for each denomination to have its own table? If there be any force in this question, it merely goes to prove that the people of God are no longer able to act upon God’s principles, but that they are left to the miserable alternative of acting on human expediency. Thank God, such is not the case. The truth of the Lord endures forever, and what the Holy Spirit teaches in 1 Corinthians 11 is binding upon every member of the church of God. There were divisions, heresies and unholiness existing in the assembly at Corinth, just as there are divisions, heresies and unholiness existing in the professing church now, but the Apostle did not tell them to set up separate tables on the one hand, nor yet to cease from breaking bread on the other. No; he presses upon them the principles and the holiness connected with “the church of God,” and tells those who could approve themselves accordingly to eat. The expression is, “So let him eat.” We are to eat, therefore: Our care must be to eat “so,” as the Holy Spirit teaches us, and that is in the true recognition of the holiness and oneness of the church of God. When the church is despised, the Spirit must be grieved and dishonored and the certain end will be spiritual barrenness and freezing formalism, and although men may substitute intellectual for spiritual power, and human talents and attainments for the gifts of the Holy Spirit, yet will the end be “like the heath in the desert.” The true way to make progress in the divine life is to live for the church and not for ourselves. The man who lives for the church is in full harmony with the mind of the Spirit and must necessarily grow. On the contrary, the man who is living for himself, having his thoughts revolving around and his energies concentrated upon himself, must soon become cramped and formal and, in all probability, openly worldly. Yes, he will become worldly, in some sense of that extensive term, for the world and the church stand in direct opposition, the one to the other, nor is there any aspect of the world in which this opposition is more fully seen than in its religious aspect. What is commonly called the religious world will be found, when examined in the light of the presence of God, to be more thoroughly hostile to the true interests of the church of God than almost anything.
But I must hasten on to other branches of our subject, only stating another simple principle connected with the Lord’s Supper, to which I desire to call the special attention of the Christian reader; it is this: The celebration of the ordinance of the Lord’s Supper should be the distinct expression of the unity of all believers and not merely of the unity of a certain number gathered on certain principles which distinguish them from others. If there be any term of communion proposed, save the all-important one of faith in the atonement of Christ and a walk consistent with that faith, the table becomes the table of a sect and possesses no claims upon the hearts of the faithful.
Furthermore, if by sitting at the table I must identify myself with any one thing, whether it be principle or practice, not enjoined in Scripture as a term of communion, there also the table becomes the table of a sect. It is not a question of whether there may be Christians there or not; it would be hard indeed to find a table among the reformed communities of which some Christians are not partakers. The Apostle did not say, “There must be heresies among you, that they which are Christians may be made manifest among you.” No, but, “That they which are approved.” Nor did he say, “Let a man prove himself a Christian, and so let him eat.” No, but, “Let a man approve himself,” that is, let him show himself to be one of those who are not only upright in their consciences as to their individual act in the matter, but who are also confessing the oneness of the body of Christ. When men set up terms of communion of their own, there you find the principle of heresy; there, too, there must be schism. On the contrary, where a table is spread in such a manner and upon such principles as that a Christian, subject to God, can take his place at it, then it becomes schism not to be there, for by being there and by walking consistently with our position and profession, we, so far as in us lies, confess the oneness of the church of God — that grand object for which the Holy Spirit was sent from heaven to earth. The Lord Jesus, having been raised from the dead and having taken His seat at the right hand of God, sent down the Holy Spirit to earth for the purpose of forming one body. Mark, to form one body — not many bodies. He has no sympathy with the many bodies, as such, though He has blessed sympathy with many members in those bodies, because they, though being members of sects or schisms, are, nevertheless, members of the one body. But He does not form the many bodies, but the one body, for “by one Spirit are we all baptized into one body, whether we be Jews or Gentiles, whether we be bond or free; and have been all made to drink into one Spirit” (1 Cor. 12:13).
I desire that there may be no misunderstanding on this point. I say the Holy Spirit cannot approve the schisms in the professing church, for He Himself has said of such, “I praise you not.” He is grieved by them — He would counteract them; He baptizes all believers into the unity of the one body, so that it cannot be thought, by any intelligent mind, that the Holy Spirit could sustain schisms, which are a grief and a dishonor to Him.
We must, however, distinguish between the Spirit’s dwelling in the church and His dwelling in individuals. He dwells in the body of Christ, which is the church (1 Cor. 3:17; Eph. 2:22); He dwells also in the body of the believer, as we read, “Your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you, which ye have of God” (1 Cor. 6:19). The only body or community, therefore, in which the Spirit can dwell is the whole church of God, and the only person in which He can dwell is the believer. But, as has already been observed, the table of the Lord, in any given locality, should be the exhibition of the unity of the whole church. This leads us to another principle connected with the nature of the Lord’s Supper.
It is an act whereby we not only show the death of the Lord until He come, but whereby we also give expression to a fundamental truth, which cannot be too strongly or too frequently pressed upon the minds of Christians at the present day, that all believers are one loaf — one body. It is a very common error to view this ordinance merely as a channel through which grace flows to the soul of the individual, and not as an act bearing upon the whole body, and bearing also upon the glory of the Head of the church. That it is a channel through which grace flows to the soul of the individual communicant there can be no doubt, for there is blessing in every act of obedience. But that individual blessing is only a very small part of it can be seen by the attentive reader of 1 Corinthians 11. It is the Lord’s death and the Lord’s coming that are brought prominently before our souls in the Lord’s Supper, and where any one of these elements is excluded there must be something wrong. If there be anything to hinder the complete showing forth of the Lord’s death or the exhibition of the unity of the body or the clear perception of the Lord’s coming, then there must be something radically wrong in the principle on which the table is spread, and we only need a single eye and a mind entirely subject to the Word and Spirit of Christ in order to detect the wrong.
Let the Christian reader now prayerfully examine the table at which he periodically takes his place and see if it will bear the threefold test of 1 Corinthians 11, and if not, let him, in the name of the Lord and for the sake of the church, abandon it. There are heresies, and schisms flowing from heresies, in the professing church, but “let a man [approve] himself, and so let him eat” the Lord’s Supper. And if we ask what the term “approved” means, the answer is that it is in the first place to be personally true to the Lord in the act of breaking bread. In the next place, it is to shake off all schism and take our stand, firmly and decidedly, upon the broad principle which will embrace all the members of the flock of Christ. We are not only to be careful that we ourselves are walking in purity of heart and life before the Lord, but also that the table of which we partake has nothing connected with it that could at all act as a barrier to the unity of the church. It is not merely a personal question. Nothing more fully proves the low ebb of Christianity at the present day or the fearful extent to which the Holy Spirit is grieved than the miserable selfishness which tinges, even pollutes, the thoughts of professing Christians. Everything is made to hinge upon the mere question of self. It is my forgiveness — my safety — my peace — my happy feelings, and not the glory of Christ or the welfare of His beloved church. Well, therefore, may the words of the prophet be applied to us: “Thus saith the Lord, . . . Consider your ways. Go up to the mountain, and bring wood, and build the house; and I will take pleasure in it, and I will be glorified. Ye looked for much, and, lo, it came to little; and when ye brought it home, I did blow upon it. Why? saith the Lord of hosts. Because of [My] house that is waste, and ye run every man unto his own house” (Hag. 1:7-9). Here is the root of the matter. Self stands in contrast with the house of God, and if self be made the object, no marvel that there should be a sad lack of spiritual joy, energy and power. To have these, we must be in fellowship with the Spirit’s thoughts. He thinks of the body of Christ, and if we are thinking of self, we must be at issue with Him, and the consequences are but too apparent.
The Circumstances of the Institution of the Lord’s Supper
Having now treated of what I conceive to be by far the most important point in our subject, I shall proceed to consider, in the second place, the circumstances under which the Lord’s Supper was instituted. These were particularly solemn and touching. The Lord was about to enter into dreadful conflict with all the powers of darkness—to meet all the deadly enmity of man and to drain to the dregs the cup of Jehovah’s righteous wrath against sin. He had a terrible morrow before Him — the most terrible that had ever been encountered by man or angel, yet, notwithstanding all this, we read that on “the same night in which He was betrayed, [He] took bread.” What unselfish love is here! “The same night”— the night of profound sorrow — the night of His agony and bloody sweat — the night of His betrayal by one, His denial by another, and His desertion by all of His disciples — on that very night, the loving heart of Jesus was full of thoughts about His church — on that very night He instituted the ordinance of the Lord’s Supper. He appointed the bread to be the emblem of His body broken and the wine to be the emblem of His blood shed, and such they are to us now, as often as we partake of them, for the Word assures us that “as often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord’s death till He come.”
Now all this, we may say, attaches peculiar importance and sacred solemnity to the Supper of the Lord, and, moreover, gives us some idea of the consequences of eating and drinking unworthily. The voice which the ordinance utters in the circumcised ear is always the same. The bread and the wine are deeply significant symbols, the bruised corn and the pressed grape being both combined to minister strength and gladness to the heart. And not only are they significant in themselves, but they are also to be used in the Lord’s Supper as being the very emblems which the blessed Master Himself ordained on the night previous to His crucifixion, so that faith can behold the Lord Jesus presiding at His own table — can see Him take the bread and the wine and can hear Him say, “Take, eat; this is My body,” and again, of the cup, “Drink ye all of it; for this is My blood of the new testament, which is shed for many for the remission of sins.” In a word, the ordinance leads the soul back to the eventful night already referred to — brings before us all the reality of the cross and passion of the Lamb of God, in which our whole souls can rest and rejoice; it reminds us, in the most impressive manner, of the unselfish love and pure devotedness of Him who, when Calvary was casting its dark shadow across His path and the cup of Jehovah’s righteous wrath against sin, of which He was about to be the bearer, was being filled for Him, could, nevertheless, busy Himself about us and institute a feast which was to be the expression of our connection both with Him and with all the members of His body.
And may we not infer that the Holy Spirit made use of the expression “the same night” for the purpose of remedying the disorders that had arisen in the church at Corinth? Was there not a severe rebuke administered to the selfishness of those who were taking “their own supper,” in the Spirit’s reference to the same night in which the Lord of the feast was betrayed? Doubtless there was. Can selfishness live in the view of the cross? Can thoughts about our own interests or our own gratification be indulged in the presence of Him who sacrificed Himself for us? Surely not. Could we heartlessly and willfully despise the church of God — could we offend or exclude beloved members of the flock of Christ, while gazing on that cross on which the Shepherd of the flock and the Head of the body was crucified? No. Let believers only keep near the cross — let them remember “the same night” — let them keep in mind the broken body and shed blood of the Lord Jesus Christ, and there will soon be an end to heresy, schism and selfishness. If we could only bear in mind that the Lord Himself presides at the table to dispense the bread and wine — if we could hear Him say, “Take this, and divide it among yourselves” — we should be better able to meet all our brethren on the only Christian ground of fellowship which God can own. In a word, the person of Christ is God’s center of union. “I,” said Christ, “if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto Me.” Each believer can hear his blessed Master speaking from the cross and saying of his fellow-believers, Behold thy brethren, and, truly, if we could distinctly hear this, we should act, in a measure, as the beloved disciple acted towards the mother of Jesus: Our hearts and our homes would be open to all who have been thus commended to our care. The word is, “Receive ye one another, as Christ also received us to the glory of God.”
There is another point worthy of notice in connection with the circumstances under which the Lord’s Supper was instituted, namely, its connection with the Jewish Passover. “Then came the day of unleavened bread, when the passover must be killed. And He sent Peter and John, saying, Go and prepare us the passover, that we may eat. . . . And when the hour was come, He sat down, and the twelve apostles with Him. And He said unto them, With desire I have desired to eat this passover with you before I suffer: for I say unto you, I will not any more eat thereof, until it be fulfilled in the kingdom of God. And He took the cup [that is, the cup of the Passover], and gave thanks, and said, Take this, and divide it among yourselves: for I say unto you, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine, until the kingdom of God shall come” (Luke 22:7-18). The Passover was, as we know, the great feast of Israel, first observed on the memorable night of their happy deliverance from the thralldom of Egypt. As to its connection with the Lord’s Supper, it consists in its being the marked type of that of which the Supper is the memorial. The Passover pointed forward to the cross; the Supper points back to it. But Israel was no longer in a fit moral condition to keep the Passover, according to the divine thoughts about it, and the Lord Jesus, on the occasion above referred to, was leading His apostles away altogether from the Jewish element to a new order of things. It was no longer to be a lamb sacrificed, but bread broken and wine drunk in commemoration of a sacrifice once offered, the efficacy of which was to be eternal. Those whose minds are bowed down to Jewish ordinances may still look, in some way or another, for the periodical repetition either of a sacrifice or of something which is to bring them into a place of greater nearness to God.
There are some who think that in the Lord’s Supper the soul makes, or renews, a covenant with God, not knowing that if we were to enter into covenant with God, we should inevitably be ruined, as the only possible issue of a covenant between God and man is the failure of one of the parties (that is, man) and consequent judgment. Thank God, there is no such thing as a covenant with us. The bread and wine, in the Supper, speak a deep and wondrous truth; they tell of the broken body and shed blood of the Lamb of God — the Lamb of God’s own providing. Here the soul can rest with perfect complacency; it is the new testament in the blood of Christ and not a covenant between God and man. Man’s covenant had signally failed, and the Lord Jesus had to allow the cup of the fruit of the vine (the emblem of joy in the earth) to pass Him by. Earth had no joy for Him — Israel had become “the degenerate plant of a strange vine”; wherefore, He had only to say, “I will not drink of the fruit of the vine, until the kingdom of God shall come.” A long and dreary season was to pass over Israel, ere her King could take any joy in her moral condition. But during that time, “the church of God” was to “keep the feast” of unleavened bread, in all its moral power and significance, by putting away the “old leaven of malice and wickedness,” as the fruit of fellowship with Him whose blood cleanses from all sin.
However, the fact of the Lord’s Supper having been instituted immediately after the Passover teaches us a very valuable principle of truth: The destinies of the church and of Israel are inseparably linked with the cross of the Lord Jesus Christ. True, the church has a higher place, even identification with her risen and glorified Head, yet all rests upon the cross. Yes, it was on the cross that the pure sheaf of corn was bruised and the juices of the living vine pressed forth by the hand of Jehovah Himself to yield strength and gladness to the hearts of His heavenly and earthly people forever. The Prince of Life took from Jehovah’s righteous hand the cup of wrath, the cup of trembling, and drained it to the dregs in order that He might put into the hands of His people the cup of salvation, the cup of God’s ineffable love, that they might drink and forget their poverty and remember their misery no more. The Lord’s Supper expresses all this. There the Lord presides. There the redeemed should meet in holy fellowship and brotherly love, to eat and drink before the Lord. And while they do so, they can look back at their Master’s night of deep sorrow and forward to His day of glory — that “morning without clouds,” when “He shall come to be glorified in His saints, and to be admired in all them that believe.”
The Persons for Whom the Lord’s Supper Was Designed
We shall now consider, in the third place, the persons for whom, and for whom alone, the Lord’s Supper was instituted.
The Lord’s Supper, then, was instituted for the church of God — the family of the redeemed. All the members of that family should be there, for none can be absent without incurring the guilt of disobedience to the plain command of Christ and His inspired apostle, and the consequence of this disobedience will be positive spiritual decline and a complete failure in testimony for Christ. Such consequences, however, are the result only of willful absence from the Lord’s table. There are circumstances which, in certain cases, may present an insurmountable barrier, though there might be the most earnest desire to be present at the celebration of the ordinance, as there ever will be where the mind is spiritual, but we may lay it down as a fixed principle of truth that no one can make progress in the divine life who willfully absents himself from the Lord’s table. “All the congregation of Israel” were commanded to keep the passover (Ex. 12). No member of the congregation could with impunity be absent. “The man that is clean, and is not in a journey, and forbeareth to keep the passover, even the same soul shall be cut off from among his people: because he brought not the offering of the Lord in his appointed season, that man shall bear his sin” (Num. 9:13).
I feel that it would be rendering really valuable service to the cause of truth and a furtherance of the interests of the church of God if an interest could be awakened on this important subject. There is too much lightness and indifference in the minds of Christians as to the matter of their attendance at the table of the Lord, and where there is not this indifference, there is an unwillingness arising from imperfect views of justification. Now both these hindrances, though so different in their character, spring from one and the same source — selfishness. He who is indifferent about the matter will selfishly allow trifling circumstances to interfere with his attendance: He will be hindered by family arrangements, love of personal ease, unfavorable weather, trifling or, as it frequently happens, imaginary bodily ailments—things which are lost sight of or counted as nothing when some worldly object is to be gained. How often does it happen that men who have not spiritual energy to leave their houses on the Lord’s Day have abundant natural energy to carry them some miles to gain some worldly object on Monday. Alas that it should be so! How sad to think that worldly gain could exert a more powerful influence on the heart of the Christian than the glory of Christ and the furtherance of the church’s benefit, for this is the way in which we must view the question of the Lord’s Supper. What would be our feelings, amid the glory of the coming kingdom, if we could remember that, while on earth, a fair or a market or some such worldly object had commanded our time and energies, while the assembly of the Lord’s people around His table was neglected?
If you are in the habit of absenting yourself from the assembly of Christians, ponder the matter in the presence of the Lord before you absent yourself again. Reflect upon the pernicious effect of your absence in every way. You are failing in your testimony for Christ, you are injuring the souls of your brethren, and you are hindering the progress of your own soul in grace and knowledge. Do not suppose that your actings are without their influence on the whole church of God: You are at this moment either helping or hindering every member of that body on earth. “If one member suffer, all the members suffer with it.” This principle has not ceased to be true, though professing Christians have split into so many different divisions. In fact, it is so divinely true that there is not a single believer on earth who is not acting either as a helper to or a drain upon the whole body of Christ, and if there be any truth in the principle already laid down (that the assembly of Christians and the breaking of bread in any given locality is, or ought to be, the expression of the unity of the whole body), you cannot fail to see that if you absent yourself from that assembly or refuse to join in giving expression to that unity, you are doing serious damage to all your brethren as well as to your own soul. I would lay these considerations on your heart and conscience, in the name of the Lord, looking to Him to make them influential.
But not only does this pernicious indifference of spirit act as a hindrance to many, in presenting themselves at the Lord’s table, imperfect views of justification produce the same unhappy result. If the conscience be not perfectly purged, if there be not perfect rest in God’s testimony about the finished work of Christ, there will either be a shrinking from the Supper of the Lord or an unintelligent celebration of it. Those only can show the Lord’s death who know, through the teaching of the Holy Spirit, the value of the Lord’s death. If I regard the ordinance as a means whereby I am to be brought into a place of greater nearness to God or whereby I am to obtain a clearer sense of my acceptance, it is impossible that I can rightly observe it. I must believe, as the gospel commands me to believe, that all my sins are forever put away before I can take my place with any measure of spiritual intelligence at the Lord’s table. If the matter be not viewed in this light, the Lord’s Supper can only be regarded as a kind of step to the altar of God, and we are told in the law that we are not to go up by steps to God’s altar, lest our nakedness be discovered (Ex. 20:26) — the meaning of which is that all human efforts to approach God (the stairs) must issue in the discovery of man’s sinful condition (the nakedness).
Thus we see that if it be indifference that prevents the Christian from being at the breaking of bread, it is most blameworthy in the sight of God and most injurious to his brethren and himself. If it be an imperfect sense of justification that prevents, it is not only unwarrantable, but most dishonoring to the love of the Father, the work of the Son, and the clear and unequivocal testimony of the Holy Spirit.
But it is not infrequently said, and that, too, by those who profess spirituality and intelligence, “I derive no spiritual benefit by going to the assembly; I am as happy in my own room, reading my Bible.” I would affectionately ask such, Are we to have no higher object before us in our actings than our own happiness? Is not obedience to the command of our blessed Master — a command delivered on “the same night in which He was betrayed” — a far higher and nobler object to set before us than anything connected with self ? If He desires that His people should assemble in His name for the express object of showing forth His death till He come, shall we refuse because we feel happier in our own rooms? He tells us to be there; we reply, “We feel happier at home.” Our happiness, therefore, must be based on disobedience, and, as such, it is an unholy happiness. It is much better, if it should be so, to be unhappy in the path of obedience than happy in the path of disobedience. But I believe the thought of being happier at home is a mere delusion, and the end of those deluded by it will prove it such. Thomas might have deemed it indifferent whether he was present with the other disciples, but he had to do without the Lord’s presence and to wait for eight days until the disciples came together on the first day of the week, for there and then the Lord was pleased to reveal Himself to his soul. And just so will it be with those who say, “We feel happier at home than in the assembly of believers.” They will surely be lacking in knowledge and experience; yea, it will be well if they come not under the terrible woe denounced by the prophet: “Woe to the idol shepherd that leaveth the flock! the sword shall be upon his arm, and upon his right eye: his arm shall be clean dried up, and his right eye shall be utterly darkened” (Zech. 11:17). And again, “Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as the manner of some is; but exhorting one another: and so much the more, as ye see the day approaching. For if we sin willfully after that we have received the knowledge of the truth, there remaineth no more sacrifice for sins, but a certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation, which shall devour the adversaries” (Heb. 10:25-27).
As to the objection upon the grounds of the barrenness and unprofitableness of Christian assemblies, it will generally be remarked that the greatest spiritual barrenness will always be found in connection with a critical and complaining spirit. And I doubt not that if those who complain of the unprofitableness of meetings and draw from thence an argument in favor of their remaining at home were to spend more time in secret waiting on the Lord for His blessing on the meetings, they would have a very different experience.
And now, having shown from Scripture who should be at the breaking of bread, we shall proceed to consider who should not. On this point Scripture is equally explicit. In a word, then, none should be there who are not members of the true church of God. The same law which commanded all the congregation of Israel to eat the passover commanded all uncircumcised strangers not to eat. And now that Christ our Passover has been sacrificed for us, none can keep the feast (which is to extend throughout this entire dispensation) nor break the bread nor drink the wine in true remembrance of Him except those who know the cleansing and healing virtues of His precious blood. To eat and drink without this knowledge is to eat and drink unworthily — to eat and drink judgment, like the woman in Numbers 5 who drank the water of jealousy to make the condemnation more manifest and awfully solemn.
Now it is in this that Christendom’s guilt is specially manifest. In taking the Lord’s Supper, the professing church has, like Judas, put her hand on the table with Christ and betrayed Him; she has eaten with Him and at the same time lifted up her heel against Him. What will be her end? Just like the end of Judas. “He then, having received the sop, went immediately out; and” —the Holy Spirit adds, in awful solemnity — “it was night.” Terrible night! The strongest expression of divine love only elicited the strongest expression of human hatred. So will it be with the false professing church collectively and each false professor individually. And all those who, though baptized in the name of Christ and sitting down at the table of Christ, have nevertheless been His betrayers will find themselves at last thrust out into outer darkness — involved in a night which shall never see the beams of the morning — plunged in a gulf of endless and ineffable woe. And though they may be able to say to the Lord, “We have eaten and drunk in Thy presence, and Thou hast taught in our streets,” yet His solemn, heartrending reply will be, while He shuts the door against them, “I never knew you. Depart from Me!” I urge you, if you are still in your sins, defile not the Lord’s table by your presence, but instead of going there as a hypocrite, go to Calvary as a poor, ruined and guilty sinner and there receive pardon and cleansing from Him who died to save you.
The Time and Manner of Observance of the Lord’s Supper
Having now considered, through the Lord’s mercy, the nature of the Lord’s Supper, the circumstances under which it was instituted and the persons for whom it was designed, I would only add a word as to what Scripture teaches us about the time and manner of its celebration.
Although the Lord’s Supper was not first instituted on the first day of the week, yet Luke 24 and Acts 20 are quite sufficient to prove, to a mind subject to the Word, that that is the day on which the ordinance should specially be observed. The Lord broke bread with His disciples on “the first day of the week” (Luke 24:1,30), and “upon the first day of the week, the disciples came together to break bread” (Acts 20:7). These scriptures are quite sufficient to prove that it is not once a month, nor once in three months, nor once in six months, that disciples should come together to break bread, but once a week at least, and that upon the first day of the week. Nor can we have any difficulty in seeing that there is a moral fitness in the first day of the week for the celebration of the Lord’s Supper: It is the resurrection day — the church’s day, in contrast with the seventh day, which was Israel’s day, and, as, in the institution of the ordinance, the Lord led His disciples away from Jewish things altogether (by refusing to drink of the fruit of the vine — the passover cup — and then instituting another ordinance), so, in the day on which that ordinance was to be celebrated, we observe the same contrast between heavenly and earthly things. It is in the power of resurrection that we can rightly show the Lord’s death. When the conflict was over, Melchizedek brought forth bread and wine and blessed Abram in the name of the Lord. Thus, too, our Melchizedek, when all the conflict was over and the victory gained, came forth in resurrection with bread and wine to strengthen and cheer the hearts of His people and to breathe upon them that peace which He had so dearly purchased.
If, then, the first day of the week be the day on which Scripture teaches the disciples to break bread, it is clear that man has no authority to alter the period to once a month or once in six months. And I doubt not, when the affections are lively and fervent toward the person of the Lord Himself, the Christian will desire to show the Lord’s death as frequently as possible — indeed it would seem, from the opening of Acts, that the disciples broke bread daily. This we may infer from the expression, “Breaking bread from house to house [or, at home].” However, we are not left to depend upon mere inference as to the question of the first day of the week being the day on which the disciples came together to break bread: We are distinctly taught this, and we see its moral fitness and beauty.
We have considered the time. Now let’s consider a word about the manner. It should be the special aim of Christians to show that the breaking of bread is their grand and primary object in coming together on the first day of the week. They should show that it is not for preaching or teaching that they assemble, though teaching may be a happy adjunct, but that the breaking of bread is the leading object before their minds. It is the work of Christ which we show forth in the Supper: Therefore, it should have the first place. And when it has been duly set forth, there should be a full and unqualified opening left for the work of the Holy Spirit in ministry. The office of the Spirit is to set forth and exalt the name, the person and the work of Christ, and if He be allowed to order and govern the assembly of Christians, as He undoubtedly should, He will always give the work of Christ the primary place.
I cannot close this paper without expressing my deep sense of the feebleness and shallowness of all that I have advanced on a subject of really commanding interest. I do feel before the Lord, in whose presence I desire to write and speak, that I have so failed to bring out the full truth about this matter that I almost shrink from letting these pages see the light. It is not that I have a shadow of doubt as to the truth of what I have endeavored to state. No, but I feel that, in writing upon such a subject as the breaking of bread, at the time when there is such sad confusion among professing Christians, there is a demand for pointed, clear and lucid statements, to which I am little able to respond.
We have but little conception of how entirely the question of the breaking of bread is connected with the church’s position and testimony on earth, and we have as little conception of how thoroughly the question has been misunderstood by the professing church. The breaking of break ought to be the distinct enunciation of the fact that all believers are one body, but the professing church, by splitting into sects and by setting up a table for each sect, has practically denied that fact.
In truth, the breaking of bread has been cast into the background. The table at which the Lord should preside is almost lost sight of by being placed in the shade of the pulpit in which man presides. The pulpit, which is too often the instrument of creating and perpetuating disunion, is, to many minds, the commanding object, while the table, which if properly understood would perpetuate love and unity, is made quite a secondary thing. And even in the most laudable effort to recover from such a lamentable condition of things, what complete failure have we seen. What has the Evangelical Alliance effected? It has at least developed a need existing among professing Christians, which they are confessedly unable to meet. They want union and are unable to attain it. Why? Because they will not give up everything which has been added to the truth to meet together according to the truth, to break bread as disciples — I say, as disciples, and not as Churchmen, Independents or Baptists. It is not that all such may not have much valuable truth, I mean those of them who love our Lord Jesus Christ; they certainly may. But they have no truth that should prevent them from meeting together to break bread. How could truth ever hinder Christians from giving expression to the unity of the church? Impossible! A sectarian spirit in those who hold truth may do this, but truth never can. But how is it now in the professing church? Christians of various communities can meet for the purpose of reading, praying and singing together during the week, but when the first day of the week arrives, they have not the least idea of giving the only real and effectual expression of their unity which the Holy Spirit can recognize, which is the breaking of bread. “We being many are one bread, and one body: for we are all partakers of that one bread.”
The sin at Corinth was their not tarrying one for another. This appears from the exhortation with which the Apostle sums up the whole question (1 Cor. 11): “Wherefore, my brethren, when ye come together to eat, tarry one for another.” Why were they to tarry one for another? Surely, in order that they might the more clearly express their unity. But what would the Apostle have said if, instead of coming together into one place, they had gone to different places, according to their different views of truth? He might then say with, if possible, greater force, “Ye cannot eat the Lord’s Supper” (see margin).
It may, however, be asked, “How could all the believers in London meet in one place?” I reply, if they could not meet in one place, they could at least meet on one principle. But how did the believers at Jerusalem meet together? The answer is, They were “of one accord.” This being so, they had little difficulty about the question of a meeting room. “Solomon’s porch” or anywhere else would suit their purpose. They gave expression to their unity, and that, too, in a way not to be mistaken. Neither various localities nor various measures of knowledge and attainment could, in the least, interfere with their unity. There was “one body and one Spirit.”
Finally, I would say that the Lord will assuredly honor those who have faith to believe and confess the unity of the church on earth, and the greater the difficulty in the way of doing so, the greater will be the honor. The Lord grant to all His people a single eye and a humble and honest spirit.
Thy broken body, gracious Lord,
Is shadowed by this broken bread;
The wine which in this cup is poured
Points to the blood which Thou hast shed.
And while we meet together thus,
We show that we are one in Thee;
Thy precious blood was shed for us —
Thy death, O Lord, has set us free.
Brethren in Thee, in union sweet —
Forever be Thy grace adored —
’Tis in Thy name that now we meet
And know Thou’rt with us, gracious Lord.
We have one hope — that Thou wilt come;
Thee in the air we wait to see,
When Thou wilt take Thy people home,
And we shall ever reign with Thee.