When there were no more worlds to conquer, Alexander the Great sat and cried, so it’s said.
In another world, of spiritual forces, where sin ensnared and guilt condemned and Satan ruled as prince of the air, Jesus, the Son of Man, conquered all. No pocket of resistance remained. Now this world was his, the scepter in his right hand, the enemy scattered. He sat down on the throne, and his rule extends to the ends of the earth and to the dawning of eternity.
The breaking of bread with Jesus, the Son of God, is our victory celebration.
While he first broke bread in the shadow of the cross, under the eyes of the traitor, on the eve of death, at every supper since, the resurrected Lord has sat at the head of the table.
He foresaw this when he said, “I tell you, from now on I will not drink of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom” (Matthew 26:29 NET).
And he drinks it new with us now. Not in tears, but in rejoicing. Not in death, but in life. Not in the suspicious exchange of looks between disciples who wonder who will betray the Master, but in the sweet and warm embrace of fellowship under his benevolent rule.
Never must we forget that the Lord who sits at our table is the resurrected Lord.
And his presence in our midst changes the very air of our banquet today.
Yes, we are sorry for our sins.
Yes, we know that he died for us.
Yes, we have an inkling of the suffering he bore.
But all is seen through the lens of he who suffered and died and rose again.
For, although there are many souls yet to save, there are no more worlds to conquer.
And with that truth in mind we sit and eat and exult with exceeding joy.
We remember that the Supper is eaten this side of the cross, after the Lord’s resurrection.