02.03. Around the Table

3. Around the Table

Perhaps it may be but a little company of believers with whom you join from time to time in remembering the Savior’s death. It may be in a village church; and when the rest of the congregation has dispersed, you meet around the Table of the Master, and in His name partake of the bread and wine. But why should you do this?

Go back to Jerusalem — go back to the Upper room where Christ sits down with His chosen band of disciples. It is the Passover season, and He has earnestly desired to sit down with them at the feast. For the time is at hand — the end is drawing near when the true Passover must be sacrificed, when the Shepherd shall be smitten and the flock scattered. Our Lord partakes, with His disciples, of the Paschal Supper, so full of grateful recollections to the faithful Israelite, and still more precious as pointing forward to New Testament blessings. Christ then institutes a new feast, suited alike for His disciples in all countries and in all periods of the Church’s history. He takes in His hand, the small loaf from the table. He gives thanks, and breaks it and distributes a part to each of those present, "Take, eat," He says; "this is my body which is given for you — do this in remembrance of Me." Then He takes the cup and hands it from one to another, saying to them, "This cup is the New Testament in my blood, which is shed for you and for many for the remission of sins — this do, as oft as you drink it, in remembrance of Me." Then He adds that He would no more drink of the fruit of the vine, until it should be fulfilled in the kingdom of God. (Compare Matthew 26:26-29; Luke 22:17-20; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26.)

Very simple and expressive is this ordinance. There is nothing so mysterious about it that we need shrink from the comfort and help which it is intended to bring. We need but humble, loving, believing hearts, to taste all the precious treasures of grace which it unfolds.

Let us now take but one thought. Let us consider it as a pledge of our love and obedience. In Eden a tree was given to our first parents to prove whether they would follow the will of God. They were neither to touch it nor to taste it, lest they should die. But they failed. They broke the simple covenant — they forfeited their inheritance of life and peace, and brought upon themselves and their posterity an evil heritage of sin and sorrow and death. In the Lord’s Supper, the disciple of Christ has a way afforded him of proving his obedience. The command as so plain, the precept is so easy in itself, that he can have no excuse for disregarding it. Had the Christian been commanded to perform some hard and painful duty — as Abraham was called to offer up Isaac — or to go upon a distant pilgrimage — or to have done some great act that would have required length of time and considerable effort, and would have taxed his endurance to the uttermost — then no doubt he ought to have done it — it would have been only right for him cheerfully to obey, for the sake of Him who sacrificed all for us and laid down His life for our sake. But Christ has appointed it otherwise. The test He has given has nothing painful or laborious about it. It is a means of strength and consolation to all who use it in faith. He has bidden His people meet in His name. He bids them partake of bread and wine, and thus remember His dying love. It is His one express command: "This do in remembrance of Me."

It may be that some reader hesitates to obey this precept of Christ; but if so, be careful to inquire of the reason. What is keeping you back? What is standing in the way? What is your motive for refusing? If you take Christ for your Master, if you reckon yourself as belonging to Him — can you excuse yourself from giving this proof of your sincerity?

Perhaps you say, "It is a very serious thing to come to the Lord’s Table, and I am but a young believer, and I am afraid to come." But is it not a very serious thing to stay away? Shall you not be afraid to disobey so simple and loving a command?

If a dear relation or friend were dying — perhaps a mother who had ever shown her tender love for you — and she were to ask you to perform some duty or carry out some wish or plan which she had arranged — would you let anything hinder you from fulfilling her last request? But think of the love of Christ. What more could He have done to show His love for you? And was not this His last command? And does He not say, "If you love Me — keep my commandments"? Ah, is it not sad forgetfulness and great ingratitude to your best Friend, which leads you to turn away from doing that to which He calls you?

Think again what it is that you say as you leave the church, while others remain. Do you not declare, as plainly as if you spoke it with your lips, something of this kind, "Lord, I do not come to Your Table, for I am not one of Yours. I do not trust You, I do not love You, I have no part or lot in the matter. I confess that I am not one of Your disciples now, nor do I look to share Your glory hereafter" And is it not a serious thing, by thus turning your back on the Lord’s Table, openly to acknowledge that you do not belong to Him?

Ah, suppose you disobey Christ in this way — is it not a proof that you do not truly love Him, and may you not look for it, that He may shut His door against you hereafter?

Years ago, in a village church, a few Christians met together at their monthly Communion. One man remained in the porch outside the door as the service was being held. To him the quiet half-hour seemed well-near a year. His conscience smote him — his thoughts accused him of ingratitude and disobedience. He remembered how month after month he had been a stranger to the Lord’s Table. "Ah," said he to himself, "I am outside this door! What if I should be found at last outside the door of Heaven!" That quiet half-hour bore its fruit, and led him to a more entire consecration to the Lord’s service and obedience to His commands. But if it is a command, it is no less an invitation of the most considerate kindness, that the disciple of Christ should come to this feast of love. When you receive an invitation from a friend to go to their house or sit down at their table — you regard it as an act of kindness on their part. But was there ever such kindness in the heart of an earthly friend as you find in Jesus, when He thus bids you draw near to Him? It is condescending love which prompts the invitation. Here is the great King of Heaven and earth, inviting one of His subjects — one who has been sinful, rebellious, and utterly unworthy — to come into His presence and partake of His goodness. At this feast there is the richest provision and the most lasting profit. You come to partake here of the finest of the wheat, honey out of the rock, wines on the lees well refined — you come to feed on Christ Himself. He nourishes your soul with the hidden manna of His grace and love.

Here, O my Lord, I see You face to face;
Here faith can touch and handle things unseen,
Here I would grasp with firmer hand Your grace,
And all my weariness upon You lean.

Here would I feed upon the bread of God;
Here drink with You the royal wine of Heaven;
Here would I lay aside each earthly load;
Here taste afresh the calm of sin forgiven.

You may go the world’s banquet — you may taste its choicest pleasures — you may find a passing gratification in the successful pursuit of wealth or of some object of ambition — but by-and-by you lose your interest in it — or disappointment comes, and you grow weary and tired and restless. But come to this banquet of heavenly love, come in faith, trusting in the Savior’s gracious promises — and you shall sit down with great delight under His banner of love — you shall have fellowship with Apostles, martyrs, saints — men of whom the world was not worthy — and you shall find everlasting strength and consolation to your soul. But who are welcome? Whom will Christ reckon as worthy guests? Not the careless, the heedless, the indifferent.

If you have no earnest desire for salvation, and no longing for a holy, Christ-like life; if you are of the world and like the world — I dare not ask you to come. There is something you need first. You need new life in the Holy Spirit; you need conversion of heart to God; you need that mighty change whereby old things pass away, and all things become new.

Neither do I ask you to come if you are well satisfied with yourself. If you are content with your own condition and have no sense of your sinfulness and poverty — you cannot come acceptably. Only a humble and broken heart can feed on a crucified Savior. He who is most worthy in God’s sight, is most humbled for his exceeding unworthiness. But there are many who are kept back by a painful conviction that they have so much evil about them — that they have so little faith, repentance, or love, that it would be presumptuous on their part to draw near. Is this your own feeling? Is it this which prevents your approach to the Table? If so, is it not a mistake? Are you not forgetting the purpose of Christ’s work and the meaning of this ordinance? For if anyone comes in the right spirit — what is it which he professes? What does the true believer virtually say? Is it not this: "Lord, I am a sinner deserving damnation, and my only hope is in You. I trust only in Your all-atoning sacrifice. I trust only in Your finished work, and in Your blood which was shed for my sin." And is not this the plea for a sinner — for any sinner who turns from sin and flies for mercy to the Savior?

Look not at your repentance or faith or love — but rather fix your eye on Him who will never cast out any who sincerely come to Him. He knows all your sin and all that you lack — and yet He loves you.

"Come unto Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28.) These words make it plain that no anxious, penitent sinner need despair, nor anyone imagine that he is forbidden to draw near. Will not this assure you of a welcome? Whatever your burden — whatever your weary, toiling, troubled spirit may need — here is rest and refreshment provided in Christ. Will not this promise meet your case? A world-wide compassion, a priceless gift, a message bringing home the offer of life to each soul. What more can you ask or seek?

Hear also what Paul says: "This is a true saying, and worthy of all men to be received, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners." (1 Timothy 1:15.)

What abundant consolation is here added. The blessing is for sinners — only for sinners — for all sinners who own their sin and will accept it. Christ came to save sinners. He died for sinners — sinners of every kind and degree, therefore for you. And it is a true saying. Why not believe it? Why not honor Christ by trusting Him as a Savior for sinners, even the chief?

Hear also what John says: "If any man sins, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous. He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins." (1 John 2:1.)

Here is yet further encouragement. Perhaps you have been a backslider, or have committed some special sin since first you sought the Lord. But you are not to give up. You are not shut out — the door of mercy is open. Though you have sinned, you have a righteous Advocate. His atoning sacrifice will answer for your guilt. He will plead on your behalf. The Father hears Him always. Therefore do not add the sin of unbelief to your other sins. Do not doubt your Savior’s free love or His willingness to save. Cast on Him the uttermost of your sin — and be persuaded that to the uttermost He will save. Relying upon His all-sufficient, abounding grace and mercy — come to His Table and set your seal to His faithfulness and truth.

Mine is the sin — but Yours is the righteousness;
Mine is the guilt — but Yours is the cleansing blood.
Here is my robe, my refuge, and my peace —
Your blood, Your righteousness, O Lord, my God.

PRAYER
Most gracious and merciful Father, I bless and praise You for Your loving-kindness and Your truth. I thank You for giving Your only Son for our redemption. I thank You for all the unspeakable benefits that come to us through His death.

O Lord Jesus Christ, my only Hope and Savior, I cast myself at Your footstool and beseech You to save and bless me. Make me to know more of my sin. May Your precious blood answer for all my guilt. May Your blessed Spirit ever dwell within me, and make me holy both in body and soul.

O Lord, in the days of Your flesh You received sinners and ate with them. It is thus that I come to You. I am sinful and vile, and have no good thing to bring to You. I come not unto You trusting in my own righteousness, but in Your great mercy. I am not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs beneath Your table. But I flee to You, and I know that You will not reject me. Oh, cast me not away from Your presence — but take me as I am, and make me all You would have me to be. Give me true profit from this holy feast; strengthen my faith and increase my love. Nourish me with all goodness, and make me bold and faithful in confessing Your name. Help me to crucify the flesh, and to subdue every sinful passion. Enable me to live henceforth only to serve and please You. O Lord, hear this my petition, and make me a true and faithful believer, for Your name’s sake. Amen.