NOT its doctrine, though what more instructive to the heart (the seat of all learning in the divine life): nor yet its consequences, and, how practical are they! But the attitude of the soul in this precious hour will engage our reflections for a little now.
First, It is repentant, for the hour of the institution of the festival was, “The night in which He was betrayed”; and the renewal of the commemoration has revived in the soul the sense of the treachery and weakness of man, of self; and touched the conscience of the saint, causing discernment of the condition of the heart towards the Lord.
“Preparation for communion,” in the ordinary sense of seeking to produce a worthiness to partake of the supper, is foreign to the blessed consciousness we possess of a meetness to be there, already ours in the Beloved; but equally so is a previously unexercised heart, nor can we properly fail to catch the solemn spirit of a scene which was marked by the exposure of the hearts of all connected with it. (Read Matthew 26:1-56.)
Second, It is thankful; its exercises have ended; they preceded the occasion. It has no prayer to make now, nor confessions either.
“The murmurs of the wilderness,” if they have been heard, are, ere this, silent, and the busy week of earthly (rightly appointed) toil has closed― ‘tis the Lord’s Day.
The daily recurring representation of our necessities has ceased too, it has no place at the table of the Lord; nor during this strange hour: strange and unearthly indeed, the vivid contrast to all we have left for its enjoyment.
We may resume prayer presently. He prayed after the hour in the “guest chamber” (see John 17., and again, Luke 22:40). But when there, He “gave thanks.” May we enter into this sacred and becoming spirit! If the moment be eucharistic, how important to be free from all that would burden heart or conscience.
Third, It is memorial, of a Person, the Lord Jesus: whose memory extinguishes our personal recollections and supersedes our sorrows. We have only one link with the past, the remembrance of the betrayed, rejected, the dead Christ; and finally it is expectant; it comes repentant, it leaves the scene in expectation of the fulfillment of its only hope―His return.
R. H.