In
the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Tonight we have gathered to mark
the beginning of the Triduum, the last three days of our Lord's
Passion. Tonight you have heard the account of the institution of the
Lord's Supper, the inauguration of the new covenant in the blood of
Christ. And tonight you have sung the offertory Psalm. And it is to
this psalm we turn our meditations.
“What shall I render to the Lord?”
you have sung. What shall you render to the Lord? What will you give
back to God? How will you give anything back to God? Is there
anything which you might have that God wants?
Of course, you want to. It is human
nature to want to give back. In this life, nothing is free. There is
always some string attached. Even if you do not see the price tag
now, somewhere along the line it will cost you. Better to deal with
the obligations up front than be surprised later.
Even with the most pious of
intentions, it is the general disposition of the human heart to want
to offer something to God. That is the nature of all worship that
originates in the heart of man. You want to offer something to God.
You want to think that you have something to offer God. You want to
hope that there is still a spark of goodness which can be fanned into
flame. You want your good works and noble intentions to be worthy of
God's notice.
But what do you have that is not
already God's? You have confessed that He is the God and Father of
all, that all you are and have comes from His divine goodness and
mercy. You cannot render or return anything to God. You do not have a
reciprocal relationship.
“What shall I render to the Lord? All His benefits are mine.”
In Hebrew, there is no conjunction, only a pause in the middle of
this verse. It is as though the Psalmist is reframing his own
question, to point out the folly of it. What shall you render to the
Lord, since all that you have is His to begin with?
Indeed, all His benefits are yours.
What are these benefits? “I believe
that … He
provides me richly and daily with all that I need to support this
body and life, protects me from all danger, and guards me and
preserves me from all evil” (SC II:1). All that you have is a gift
from God, purely out of His fatherly, divine goodness and mercy.
He
gives you all the things that surround you every day. He gives you
every breath you take, even the air you breathe. He gives you your
body and soul and all your members. He gives you birth, growth, and
strength. He gives you family and friends, neighbors and countrymen.
It
is said that God need not do anything to destroy the world; He would
simply stop doing anything. The whole system of the cosmos, from the
tiniest nano-particle to the largest galaxy, depends on His gracious
providence and constant care and direction.
And
of course, this is all second place to the greatest benefit which the
Lord God gives to you. The greatest benefit, the best gift the Lord
gives is Himself. He gives His Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, to you, to
be the Passover sacrifice which averts the death of you, His people.
On this night when we commemorate our Lord's entrance into His
passion, we bring to mind His self-offering as the Lamb whose blood
causes the the spectre of death to pass from your door and trouble
you no longer. This is the greatest benefit the Lord could give –
His life for yours.
“Costly
in the eyes of the Lord is the death of His holy ones.”
Precious is the death of the saints before the Lord. Not in sense to
which you are accustomed. Death is never cute and cuddly. It bears no
resemblance to bunny rabbits or cat videos. But rather the death of
the holy ones of God is precious because of the great cost which
death exacts upon everyone, even upon God Himself.
For,
as the Psalmist says, the dead who have gone down to Sheol, who have
been laid in the grave – they do not praise God. They do not
believe or rejoice in salvation. They are held captive under death's
capstone.
For
you, death is costly, because it rips you apart. It tears soul from
body, just as it rends the fabric of your life together. One who was
here with you is now gone, never to return to this place. One whom
you love will never again feel the warmth of your affections. Death
is costly.
Death
is costly, because it is the price for sin. For the wages of sin is
death. You have desired the sin which lives within you, and so you
must have the death which follows. One does not come without the
other. And there can be no remission, no lifting of sins without the
shedding of blood.
And
here is where the greatest cost of sin is incurred. For us men and
for our salvation, our Lord Jesus Christ came down from heaven and
was incarnate by the Holy Spirit of the Virgin Mary. He was
crucified, died, and was buried. Sin cost the Son of God His life.
The Father of all mercies rendered His only-begotten Son unto death,
in order that the price of sin might be paid, once and for all.
This
is the body which is broken and given for you and to you. This is the
blood which is sacrificially poured out for you. This is the food
which comes down from heaven to feed you in body and soul unto life
everlasting. This sacrifice is offered to pay the cost of your sin.
The cost to eliminate death, to break the hold of Satan and the
grave, is nothing less than the cross – the death of the sinless
Son of God Himself.
“What
shall I render to the Lord? All His benefits are mine!”
Therefore,
the response of the forgiven heart leaps to the lips purified: “To
You I will offer the sacrifice of thanksgiving!”
This is the good and acceptable service you can render to God. After
– and only because – He has forgiven your sins, called you out of
darkness into His marvelous light, and purified you, now you can
offer to Him the sacrifice of thanksgiving. On the basis of His
glorious work for you, you can give thanks, shout and sing.
Christ
our Passover Lamb has been sacrificed for you. He has handed over His
own body and blood, spirit and soul, to be slaughtered for your sins.
And He here and now offers to you that same body and blood for you,
for the forgiveness of your sins. Do this, in remembrance of Him, for
all His benefits are yours.
But
what does this mean? “This
do into My remembrance.”
What is the remembrance? This meal – the Holy Supper of our Lord's
Body and Blood – is the remembrance. The remembrance of what? Many
are wont to think that “in remembrance of Me” indicates that our
performance of this ritual is merely a re-enactment, like what
happens on a Civil War battlefield or in an historic cemetery. Is
that all this occasion is for us – a holy skit?
By
no means! Rather, we do this – we eat this meal – not for our
remembrance of Christ, but to call forth His remembrance of us. You
eat His body and blood, giving thanks for the wondrous benefit He is
present here to give to you. You take and eat, you take and drink,
into His remembrance of you. That is, by laying hold of Christ where
He is given to you, you are made a partaker of His sacrifice and all
that He has accomplished by it. You are wont to forget Christ and His
benefits, but He is faithful and will never fail to remember you.
That is why He gives His body and blood again and again, that His
once-for-all sacrifice might live within you, that He might live
within you, for the forgiveness of your sins, unto life everlasting.
In
the Name of Jesus. Amen.
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