Our Sermons

Bible Passage: Matthew 26:26-28
Pastor: Pastor Berg
Sermon Date:  April 6, 2023

So here we are again, at the most significant, most sacred weekend in our worship life as Chrsitians. Here we are again in spirit in the upper room, at the foot of the cross, and–wonder of wonders, staring into the empty tomb where Jesus is not. This weekend, again, is truly the high point of our worship life.

But not everyone is completely happy on this weekend. I know of some who view this time of year with a little bit of sadness. Why? Because this means the end of our weekly Lenten suppers in the church fellowship hall. Now, that may seem to be a small thing. But is it? Think about what happens in the fellowship hall each week. We gather as one big family in Christ. We talk over a meal. We share joys; we share concerns; we share sorrows and trials. We share encouragements and Bible passages and promise to pray for each other. We serve one another; we either bring food to share or perhaps some money to share so that this good thing–this comfortable meal, this fellowship–can keep going. There’s a lot more happening during the church supper on Wednesday nights than just eating! That’s why we were so eager to bring them back! Then again, that’s the way it is at family meals, right? 

But tonight, we are the guests. We are the ones being served; everything is prepared. Tonight there is an even higher level of intimacy, a higher level of fellowship, and greater blessings than just a good meal with good friends. Tonight our Lord Jesus Christ himself, the friend of sinners, invites us each to come and feast with him. It is a banquet that, this side of heaven, is without compare. The words of his invitation are familiar: “While they were eating, Jesus took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to the disciples. He said, “Take, eat, this is my body.” Then he took the cup, gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it all of you, for this is my blood of the new testament, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.” As a special treat, tonight we have two “three words of truth, words that tell us two different things. Let’s discover what they are!

In Luke’s account of the Last Supper, the Holy Spirit adds this wonderful detail in the words of Jesus: “He said to them, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer,” Really? Sitting around a table with men who time and again over the past few years had shown they understood very little of what he was trying to teach them. “Eagerly desired…” Really? With a group of disciples that would completely abandon him in the Garden of Gethsemane only a few hours after this…and he knew it? “With you…” Really? Even though just shortly before this they had been jostling and elbowing for positions around the table, verbally sparring and bantering about which one of them showed the most promise and which one of them would be the most indispensable for the kingdom of God’s march forward? 

A motley crew was gathered there in the upper room, don’t you think? Where were the women of the gospels who so faithfully followed Jesus in his ministry and supported his work? Where was Mary, the sister of Martha, who seemed to understand Jesus’ teachings on a much higher level than the disciples gathered in that room? Be all that as it may, the words of Jesus remain:  “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you…” In the kingdom of God, it doesn’t matter much who are the guests; what matters is who is the host. And the host is our Savior, the friend of sinners. He ate with the Twelve, men of little faith and slow to understand. He ate with Zaccheus, the scam artist. He ate with other tax collectors too–and prostitutes and sinners and lepers. 

Don’t we find immense comfort in the fact that Jesus “eagerly desired” to eat with his disciples, weak and sinful men as they were? Don’t we often see ourselves in them? Paul tells us that a person ought to examine himself before he partakes of the Lord’s Supper, but that is painful, isn’t it? We look into the mirror of God’s law and see only sin and death. We see failure after failure. We see weakness, tripping over the same old traps of Satan. Worse, we see defiance–that sinful nature rearing its ugly head in our lives and telling God, “No, God! I’m going to do this anyway! I don’t care what you say!” We see ourselves trying to be God–our own masters–who say with clenched teeth, “My will be done!” But all of this stumbling, all this weakness, all this defiance does not bring us either the control we want or the freedom we’re chasing ro the peace and happiness we desire. It brings unrest. It brings despair. It brings judgment. This is, as Paul says, “a body of death.” And he is right.

In the mirror of God’s law, we are forced to see so many things about ourselves that only lead to this conclusion: This holy meal is not for me. Yet, Jesus says, “Come!” Our loving Father could not turn away from his fallen world. He sent his Son, his only Son. His Son obeyed and joyfully came. The quiet setting of the upper room must have seemed a million miles away from the horrors of the next day. Yet, as surely as time marches on, Good Friday would come and the Son of Man would go, just as it is written about him. It was all coming to a head now–God’s great, grand plan of salvation. And not just the cross–this too is part of that plan: a heavenly meal for sinners. 

I cannot understand it, why Jesus would say to you and to me, “Take and eat…Take and drink…” But he has, and he still does. He desires for you to eat and drink with him and rejoices to see you here. Don’t doubt it! This is a meal for sinners! And as with any meal, the host writes and controls the guest list. Are you a sinner who knows all too well your sins and who hangs your head over them? You’re on the list! Come! The Lord himself has invited you.

And then, when we not only consider this marvelous truth that Jesus wants us to come to this meal, we are equally astounded by what he gives us at this meal! He eagerly desires our presence so that he can graciously give us his presents!

They are presents; they are gifts of grace without compare. That treasured book of ours, Luther’s small catechism, says it so succinctly: “forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation…For where there is forgiveness of sins, there is also life and salvation. Here in this meal your Savior forgives you. Just as a creative spouse finds various and different ways to say, “I love you” besides just words, the same is true of our Savior. Yes, he says, “I love you, I forgive you” on the pages of his Word, but he does here too, as well as in the waters of Baptism. Here we can taste; here we can see that the Lord is good. He touches other senses besides our ears and eyes. This bread and wine on your lips brings you your Savior’s true body and blood. 

And this is “the blood of the new covenant.” The old covenant was law, and it could not save; it could only condemn and kill. But here, in the body and blood of Christ, is the new covenant, announced long ago by the prophet Jeremiah: “But this is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel…I will forgive their guilt, and I will remember their sins no more.” The old covenant called for holiness and death for all who were not holy. The new covenant was established by death, by the death of the Holy One, and through faith in this new covenant, God covers you with the holiness of his Son. The new covenant is not a bargain you make with God or a “meet ya halfway” kind of deal that Americans love. This is God doing for us what we cannot even begin to do for ourselves. It is a one-sided covenant; it is God doing everything and then freely giving it all away to those who believe. It is a covenant of grace and a gift beyond price.

What’s more, at this meal Jesus also gives the gift of unity. We all come here from different walks of life. We are men; we are women; we are young; we are old. We are in different income brackets. We are from different ethnic backgrounds. We are healthy; we are sick. We are joyful; we are sad. But we come to this holy feast as equals. We stand or kneel next to one another as a family in Christ. We all receive the same bread, the same wine. And through this meal God not only binds us to himself all the more closely, but he also binds us to one another. He does that so that we can share this time of grace together in the bond of peace–working together, sharing joys and burdens, praying for and encouraging one another. In short, loving one another deeply–the very thing Jesus said would let the outside world know that we are truly his disciples. 

And finally, with eyes of faith we can see and understand all of this in this Supper–right here at Eastside. This gift lifts our eyes above all the noise and rack and mess of this world to see where we’re headed, to see our true home. The Scandinavian Lutherans had this in mind in their church designs, many of which you can see scattered all over the Midwest. Almost all of those churches have a curved, semi-circular Communion rail. But it is only half a circle. For, as they will tell you, there is an invisible half to the circle–the church in heaven, which we cannot yet see. Here the saints on earth gather in their half-circle; there all the hosts of heaven gather in theirs. The whole Church, on earth and in heaven, gathers in a circle around the central throne of the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world and who sits on the throne forever. In this meal, we enter into the presence of the eternal King of kings.

All this! All this…How blessed we are to gather here tonight and be reminded of these things. Here is the culmination of all our Lenten dining. And even though the fellowship meals in the fellowship hall have been wonderful over the past few weeks, they pale in comparison to what will happen here tonight and what happens every time the friend of sinners says, “Take and eat; take and drink.” Amen