A Meal Fit for a King

Big Idea: Jesus fulfilled the Passover by becoming our true Passover Lamb, inviting us to His table, and preparing us for the feast that is still to come.

Opening

As I prepared for today's sermon, I found myself meditating on one of the most incredible passages in all of Scripture. It's a passage that, if you really stop and picture it, is both terrifying and incredibly hopeful. The passage is Exodus 12—the Passover.

Now, if you're familiar with the story, that's wonderful. If you're not, let me set the stage so you can appreciate what Jesus is doing in our passage today.

The people of Israel had been enslaved in Egypt for over four hundred years. They cried out to God for deliverance, and God answered by sending Moses to tell Pharaoh, "Let My people go." Pharaoh refused. What followed were the plagues: the Nile turned to blood, frogs covered the land, flies swarmed, livestock died, locusts devoured the crops, darkness covered Egypt for three days, and still Pharaoh's heart remained hard.

Then came the final judgment.

Imagine a messenger coming to your home and saying, "Tonight, justice is coming. Death will visit every house in Egypt."

Not just the Egyptian homes.

Every home.

Jew and Egyptian alike.

Being one of God's covenant people would not cause judgment to simply pass you by. Justice had to be satisfied.

What would you do?

Panic? I know I would.

Beg for mercy? Absolutely.

But God, in His mercy, made a way.

He commanded every family to take an unblemished lamb, sacrifice it, and spread its blood over the doorposts of their home. Then they were to go inside, close the door, and eat a meal together. They would eat the roasted lamb along with unleavened bread and the other elements of the Passover meal while trusting the promise of God.

The blood on the doorway wasn't magical. It was a visible act of faith and obedience. God promised that when judgment came, He would see the blood, and the angel of death would pass over that house.

Think about that night.

Behind every door in Egypt there would either be a dead child or a dead lamb.

Either judgment fell on your household, or it fell on a substitute.

Either way, justice was satisfied.

That night became the defining moment in Israel's history. God delivered His people from slavery through the blood of a lamb. From that point forward, every year they would gather as families to observe the Passover meal. It wasn't merely a tradition. It was a yearly reminder that they were a redeemed people because a substitute had died in their place.

Now fast forward nearly fifteen hundred years.

Jesus gathers with His disciples to celebrate that very meal.

Read Mark 14:12–25.

The Passover meal wasn't something that was thrown together at the last minute. It had a very specific order and purpose. There were four different points during the meal when the presider would take a cup of wine and explain the meaning of what they were about to eat. Those four cups represented the four promises God made to Israel in Exodus 6:6–7: "I will bring you out...I will deliver you...I will redeem you...I will take you to be My people."

As the meal progressed, the presider would explain the bread, the bitter herbs, the lamb, and the wine. During the third cup, he would remind everyone what each element represented. Holding up the unleavened bread he would say something like, "This is the bread of our affliction which our fathers ate." Every family knew these words. They had heard them their entire lives.

Then Jesus does something no one expected.

He takes the bread and says, "This is My body."

In that moment, Jesus was saying, "I am the bread of affliction. I am about to suffer so that I can bring about the ultimate Exodus and the ultimate deliverance."

Then He takes the cup and says, "This is My blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many."

These words bring us right back to what we've been talking about for the past several weeks—substitutionary sacrifice. Jesus is establishing the new covenant through His own blood.

Then He says something remarkable. He tells them He will not drink of the fruit of the vine again until He drinks it anew in the Kingdom of God.

What's He pointing to?

His return.

The coming Kingdom.

The great feast that still awaits the people of God.

As Christians, we live in the tension of the "already" and the "not yet." Christ has already secured our redemption, but we still await the day when we will sit at His table in His Kingdom.

With those simple actions—holding up the bread and the cup—Jesus was saying, "Every Passover meal you have ever celebrated has been pointing to Me."

Just as the first Passover was eaten the night before God redeemed Israel from slavery through the blood of lambs, this Passover meal was eaten the night before God redeemed the world from sin and death through the blood of His Son.

To understand why Jesus could say those words, we first have to understand the meal He was celebrating.

1. The Main Course

Remember when I said that Jesus' last Passover meal departed from the traditional Passover in one major way? Well, let's look at what changed, because I think it's something many of us have read right past for years.

When Jesus presides over the meal, He takes the bread. Every Passover meal had bread. He blesses the cup. Every Passover meal had wine. But if you read all four Gospel accounts carefully, you'll notice something missing.

Where's the lamb?

Isn't that strange?

Was Jesus and the disciples suddenly vegetarian? No.

Did the Gospel writers simply forget to mention the centerpiece of the meal? I don't think so.

What kind of Passover meal doesn't mention the Passover lamb?

The answer is both beautiful and profound.

There was a lamb at the meal.

It just wasn't on the table.

It was at the table.

Jesus is the main course.

Remember how our study in Mark began? John the Baptist sees Jesus and declares, "Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world." John knew who Jesus was long before the disciples fully understood it. Every Passover lamb that had ever been sacrificed was pointing to this moment. The shadow had given way to the substance. The symbol had given way to the Savior.

That's exactly what Isaiah prophesied hundreds of years earlier:

"The Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all...He was oppressed and afflicted, yet He did not open His mouth; He was led like a lamb to the slaughter...He poured out His life unto death and was numbered with the transgressors."

On the cross, Jesus received what we deserved. The judgment of God against sin fell upon Him so that everyone who places their faith in Him would never have to bear that judgment themselves. Just as death passed over the homes covered by the blood of the lamb in Egypt, God's judgment now passes over everyone who is covered by the blood of Christ.

It bears repeating because it's the very heart of the gospel:

All real, life-changing love is substitutionary sacrifice.

I said it last week, and I'm saying it again because it is that important. Today there are many who want the love of God without the sacrifice of Christ. They want forgiveness without a cross. But you can't separate the two. The love of God is seen most clearly in the sacrifice of His Son.

Last week I used the example of parents sacrificing for their children. Let me give you one more.

After a devastating forest fire in Yellowstone National Park, rangers began surveying the damage. One ranger came across the burned, petrified remains of a bird at the base of a tree. It was such a strange and eerie sight that he gently pushed it over with a stick.

As he did, three tiny chicks came running out from underneath their mother's wings.

When the fire swept through the forest, the mother could have flown away and saved herself. Instead, she stayed. She spread her wings over her babies and absorbed the fire herself.

Because she died...

They lived.

Does that sound familiar?

Jesus once looked over Jerusalem and said, "How often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings."

That's exactly what He came to do.

On the cross, Jesus gathered His people under the covering of His love, and He Himself was consumed by the fire of divine judgment.

Because He died...

We live.

That is why there was no lamb on the table.

The Lamb was preparing to go to the cross.

2. The Last Course

Every first Sunday of the month we gather around the Lord's Table. We'll do that again in just a few moments. When we do, I usually read from Luke's account because he records one phrase that Mark leaves out. Jesus takes the bread, gives thanks, breaks it, and says, "This is My body given for you; do this in remembrance of Me."

So what is Jesus saying?

He's telling everyone who believes in Him to continue eating this meal together. We call it Communion or the Lord's Supper. The bread and the cup are visible reminders of Christ's sacrifice for us. Every time we gather around this table, we proclaim that our hope is found in His broken body and His shed blood.

But notice something else.

Jesus says, "Take it."

To benefit from a meal, you have to eat it. You can't sit across the table and watch someone else enjoy it. You can't have someone describe the flavors to you. You have to take it yourself.

The same is true of Christ.

You don't receive the benefits of His sacrifice because your parents believed, because your spouse believes, because you attend church, or because you've always considered yourself a Christian. The benefits of Christ's death belong to those who personally trust in Him. Communion reminds us that faith is personal. Christ must be received.

But the meal also reminds us that while faith is personal, it was never meant to be private.

Remember the original Passover. God didn't tell the Israelites to scatter and eat by themselves. They gathered as families around the table.

So why does Jesus celebrate the Passover with His disciples instead of their biological families?

Because He is creating a new family.

This is why we call one another brothers and sisters in Christ. What binds us together isn't our age, our politics, our occupations, our personalities, or even our backgrounds. We are family because we have all been rescued by the same Lamb.

One author put it this way:

"What binds Christians together is not common education, common race, common income levels, common politics, nationality, accents, jobs, or anything of those sorts. Christians come together because they have been saved by Jesus Christ...They are a band of natural enemies who love one another for Jesus' sake."

That's what this table declares.

Every month we gather as one family because we have one Savior.

But there's one more thing this meal does.

It points us forward.

Jesus tells His disciples that He will not drink of the fruit of the vine again until He drinks it new in the Kingdom of God.

In other words, this isn't the last meal.

It's a preview.

It's an appetizer.

The best course is still coming.

Throughout the Old Testament, God gives us glimpses of that coming Kingdom. The psalmist says the trees of the forest will sing for joy before the Lord. Isaiah says the mountains and the hills will burst into song and the trees of the field will clap their hands.

Some people say that's just poetic language.

Maybe.

But I don't think so.

I think C. S. Lewis captured the idea beautifully in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Under the White Witch, Narnia was trapped in an endless winter. Life was dormant. Everything waited for the true King to return.

Our world is much the same.

Creation is waiting.

It's like a seed buried beneath the soil. It isn't dead. It's waiting for the light.

And when the Son comes, everything will come alive.

The curse will be lifted. Sin will be gone. Death will be defeated. The earth will become what it was always created to be. If the trees clap their hands and the hills sing for joy in the presence of their Creator, can you imagine what redeemed men and women will be like when we finally sit down at the marriage supper of the Lamb?

In Egypt, God's people took shelter beneath the blood of a lamb.

Today, we take shelter beneath the blood of the Lamb.

And one day, every longing of our hearts will finally be satisfied when we sit at His table in His Kingdom.

That is why we come to this table today.

Not because this bread saves us.

Not because this cup forgives us.

But because they remind us that the Lamb has already been sacrificed, our redemption has already been secured, and the greatest feast we have ever known is still to come.

So today, as we eat the bread and drink the cup together, let us remember our Savior, rejoice as His family, and eagerly await the day when faith becomes sight and we sit with our King at His table forever.

Closing

Partake together in communion to close service.