The Eucharist at Harbinger Gospel Church

Intro

Good morning, dear family. I’m grateful to be here with you today, exploring the profound mystery of the Eucharist together. Initially, I had prepared an in-depth, more academic message for this morning, but after reflecting, I felt it was not quite pastoral enough. So, I rewrote this homily yesterday with a heart toward encouragement. I know there’s so much more to say on this topic, and this homily will be far from exhaustive. But I hope that it will encourage us, unite us as one body, and help us to recognize the Eucharist as an extraordinary gift—the apex of our gathering.

Nourishment

In Isaiah 55: 1-3, Notice that what is offered to the thirsty is more than mere necessity. In Christ, there is abundance. Not only is there water to quench our thirst, but also wine for joy and milk for sustenance and strength. This, my dear family, is the heart of the Eucharist. I am suggesting to you this morning that the Holy Communion meal is not simply a memorial service—though it is not less than that. When we come to the Table, we come to receive abundance, nourishment, sustenance, and strength.

A cornerstone doctrine of our faith is Christ’s condescension—His becoming physically present with us through the Incarnation. The Eucharist can be seen as a continuation of this incarnational ministry. Just as the eternal, uncreated Word became flesh, so too are material elements like bread and wine divinely empowerd to administer God’s graces. In the Eucharist, God’s incarnational presence continues to dwell among us.

Isaiah asks: “Why do you spend silver on what is not food, and your wages on what does not satisfy?” Jesus tells us, “I am the bread of life. No one who comes to me will ever be hungry, and no one who believes in me will ever be thirsty again” (John 6:35, CSB). In other words, there is true satisfaction found in the Lord Jesus. In the holy sacrament, we do not just remember His sacrifice; we partake of it. The bread and wine become for us His body and blood, the true food and drink that satisfy the eternal hunger of our souls. It is only here, in communion with Him, that we find the fullness our hearts crave.

Yes, the ancient Way of Jesus teaches that at the Holy Communion Table, through the empowerment of the Holy Spirit, the bread and wine are infused with the graces of Christ. As we partake, just as bread and wine nourish our bodies, so the sacred elements nourish our spirits. To reiterate for clarity sake, the Eucharist meal provides nourishment for our spirit.

In 1 Corinthians 10:16 Paul says: “The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a sharing in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a sharing in the body of Christ?”

Have you ever noticed or wondered why so many pastors and priests across various denominations and traditions bring the elements of Holy Communion to parishioners who are unable to attend a service, or why the Eucharist is brought to the sick in hospitals? This practice has been upheld throughout church history. But why is this done? Would it not seem strange if the Eucharist were merely a memorial or symbolic ceremony? Surely the reading of Scripture or the recitation of prayers would be enough to remember Jesus and encourage the weary. And indeed, the weary should run to Scripture and to prayer.

Yet, the consecrated elements of the Eucharist are brought to the sick and the weary—not simply to help them remember Christ, but to be nourished and sustained by Him.

St. Gregory (4th century, Cappodocia in Asia Minor) wrote: “The Body and Blood of Christ… is our life’s renewal and a medicine for weariness. It restores what is weakened by sin and suffering, strengthening the weak and granting light to the troubled soul.”

St. John Chrysostom (4th century, Antioch in Syria) wrote: “When you approach the table, believe that Christ is truly present, and with His presence comes strength to the weak, comfort to the sorrowful… Many times have I found myself lifted from weakness, for His strength becomes ours in this holy mystery.”

I can personally attest to this as well. Just last Sunday, as some of you know, I was coming off a difficult week, struggling with a heavy sense of burden. But I can testify that after sharing in the body and blood of Christ with you, my brothers and sisters, the countenance of my soul was lifted.

The Eucharist as the Apex

Imagine being invited to a meal where Jesus Himself is the host—not simply inviting you to remember Him, but to be with Him, to be filled with His love and life. When we take the bread and wine, they aren’t merely reminders of Jesus; they are a means by which He draws near, sharing His very presence with us. This is why the Eucharist is seen, not just in my own personal opinion, but even in the broader conviction of the ancient faith, as the cornerstone and true apex of the Lord’s Day worship.

In elements of the liturgy like candle lighting, we honor Christ; in the call to worship, we remember Christ; in our confession, we seek Christ; in our music, we proclaim the goodness of Christ; and in our reflection on Scripture, we explore Christ. But in the Eucharist, we encounter Christ, made present with us through the Holy Spirit.

Scripture and the early church fathers emphasize that Christians must prepare to partake of Holy Communion, approaching it in a worthy manner. Recognizing the Eucharist as the high point of our worship, many traditions view the entire liturgy as preparation for the Table. Each element—our gathering, remembering, confessing, singing, studying, and praying—shapes and readies our hearts, drawing us into an encounter with Christ at His Table.

Consider Hebrews 12:22–24, which speaks to God’s people gathered on earth: “Instead, you have come to Mount Zion, to the city of the living God (the heavenly Jerusalem), to myriads of angels, a festive gathering, to the assembly of the firstborn whose names have been written in heaven, to a Judge, who is God of all, to the spirits of righteous people made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood, which says better things than the blood of Abel.” This passage suggests that, even on earth, our gathering places us within a heavenly reality.

The liturgy, then, is not merely a series of rituals but a celebration of Christ’s presence among His people. The entire service is a journey culminating in the Eucharist, where the community encounters Christ in a real and sacramental way. This reflects an ancient Christian understanding that, in worship, heaven touches earth in a unique and supernatural way. The visible church on earth, in a profound mystery, enters into the heavenly reality—joining with the invisible church, with saints and angels, in praise and thanksgiving. Christ is truly present with us, particularly via the Eucharist, uniting us in a foretaste of the eternal communion to come.

As many of you know by now, I’ve been reflecting on the timing and structure of our services. As I consider adjustments, I’m reminded to hold the liturgy with open hands, feeling strongly that as long as we gather and partake of the Lord’s Table, we are grounded in what truly matters. Everything else is simply grace upon grace.

Conclusion

So I pray for Harbinger, I pray for us all, that we would unite around the profound mystery of the Eucharist. I pray that we would wholeheartedly embrace this sacred doctrine, giving ourselves completely over to it, making it a core part of our identity. May we be thirsty, hungry, and eagerly anticipating the Eucharist—considering it so essential that we would seek it if we couldn’t gather together, ask for it in the hospital, and, when we worship, allow each element of our liturgy to guide and prepare us to commune with the Lord Jesus.