Dim light flickered off the oil lamp in that upper room warmed only by fellowship around the Lord’s table.. Having loved to the end, with the knowledge of the hour that was come and receipt of all things from the Father He rose; laid aside his robe to descale his disciples and wash their feet. To inherit with the Messiah the beautiful feet of those who will publish the Gospel of Peace. Indeed by grace and truth the hands that held up the heavens and opened blind eyes were now cleansing feet by the Word and water. Drying gently those who followed Him, only one was not clean. Being troubled the King served before uncovering the Bread and Wine He looked up and gave thanks.

This is my body.

Turmoil turned to a deep desire for a last will of communion and forgiveness with a sign of the finest flour. A meal offering; the very first heave of fruits from the sheave waived and sifted before pouring into the millstone as flawless. The Bread of Heaven was himself the very seed that would crush the head of the serpent. Every yielded to the work of the Father was he molded pressed, anointed and seasoned to be bread indeed.

The Last Supper
The Last Supper by Bogumil Hoder

On taking up the unleavened as bruised and burned the scars of the earthen stove, the cauldron of wrath enemic to God pervaded the Son whom the Father was pleased to bruise. Only He knew the smell of the first loaves that were broken in Egypt, on the back of pain and slavery served with bitter herbs and a yearling. How tears surrounded that sup with wails of Egypt in tumult. To the nation wide elation shared after the triumphal entry of the Ark with David. How often have we longed for that which is not bread, given our hearts to the satisfaction of puffed up desires and deceitful meats. We stop at nothing to eat, yet He lost everything to be the body prepared. Teach us to pray:

 Our Father, who art in Heaven, Hallowed be thy Name, Thy Kingdom come.

Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread..

The true ark was come to the tabernacle. The bread was passed round like loaves in the wilderness with enough for all, a peace meal bringing us again to the love feast of fellowship with the Father and Son, with one another.

Take this cup.

As a drink offering, will the vine that he tended put forth the finest fruits only to be pressed and crushed. How bitter was the taste of the wrath of God mixed by eons of proud rebellion distilled into a single serving that He would entreaty be passed over except it was the Father’s will, ‘will you drink the cup I am about to drink?’ How strong was it to know that in his blood was it to be ratified, as the blood of the former to enjoin the people unto God. What did it taste like on his lips that are better than wine but received the kiss of Judas? Even when the bread of betrayal was itself dipped in the same cup of him who offered it. Turmoil brewed eternal before that cup would be poured outside the camp and borne into the heavenly tabernacle. Whose blood and sacrificial death was life and liberty.

He blessed that cup and they shared it among themselves, saying never will he leave them orphans but come again to them, that as often as they break bread and bless the cup they and we do it in remembrance of Him. Making sure the commandment given him of the Father He loved fully until the end, there realizing fully for us all the peace of God.

Blessed Jesus