Human beings like rituals. We like patterns and celebrations that we observe time and time again. They help to identify us, to reassure us, and to make sense of the world around us. Athletes have their pre-game “superstitions”—these are just rituals. Families have their seating arrangements at the dinner table, or traditions at Thanksgiving or Christmas—these are rituals. Little children love rituals—you always have to read that favorite book the same way, with the same tone of voice, every single time.

What happens when you break the pattern of a ritual? Well, you can have full-scale rebellion, that’s what can happen! There better be a good reason for it, that’s for sure. And for a while, there will be confusion and uncertainty. So, if you’re going to do something different, something new, you need to be sure you know what you’re doing.

The Passover festival was a ritual.  Jesus’ disciples probably observed it every year throughout their lives. No matter what else they were thinking, then, when Jesus asked them to prepare to celebrate the Passover, they were expected a ritual. Even though Jesus had been telling them troubling things that they did not understand about His rejection and suffering and death, this evening would be the old unchanging familiar ritual.

But no. There will be something new. In the middle of the danger, the uncertainty, the troubling prediction that one of the twelve will betray him, Jesus gives his disciples something new, a new gift that had never been given before. Something new that the disciples only understood later, but that once they did understand and believe, became a gift that would carry them into the future. This same gift comes to us every time we gather for the holy supper, to sustain and carry us into the future—until all things are made new.

Let’s put ourselves back into the events of that night long ago. We can’t know specifically what the disciples were thinking. If the disciples thought that this Passover meal was going to be normal, they were soon shaken out of that way of thinking. St. Mark writes, “And as they were reclining at table and eating, Jesus said, ‘Truly, I say to you, one of you will betray Me, one who is eating with Me.’” What a shocking thing for Jesus to say! Passover was about how God had saved Israel long ago from their enemies—their enemies the Egyptians, their enemies “out there.” But now, Jesus says that the enemy is in here, right in that upper room, among the inner circle of the twelve.

The security and peace of the old ritual gone. The enemy is among us, one of us. And it’s even worse than they realize. The enemy is within us. The old ritual, as good and as important as it was, is not enough. A new relationship is needed, a new covenant is needed. And God will have to do it because one of them will betray him, and they will all fall away. Jesus made it clear that something new was needed if there was to be forgiveness, if there was going to be a people of God, and people for God, people who are following Jesus.

So, somewhere during this familiar, old ritual, Jesus gave them an utterly unexpected gift. It’s a gift that comes because of who Jesus is—God’s Son, with absolute authority to give the gifts He wants to give. It’s a gift that comes because of what Jesus said. He said, “Take this bread, and eat it. This is my body.” Talk about something new! It’s not, “This reminds us of the bread of affliction, the bread of haste that our fathers had to eat when they left the land of Egypt.” It’s not just participating by faith in something that happened long ago. It is right now, amazing, miraculous, stunningly new. Take this bread and eat it. This is my body.

There’s more. Jesus took the cup of wine, and gave it to them, and something new happened. That very night, Jesus would be betrayed, and His betrayal would mean His blood would be poured out to forgive sins. The old sacrifices were pointing forward to this all along. Now, the Son of God’s blood would flow, to bring cleansing and forgiveness for everyone. Jesus gave them the cup and said, “This is My blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many.”

Long ago, that night when he was betrayed, keeping old promises, Jesus gave a new gift that would sustain them in their life as his disciples. Jesus’ body and blood would forgive them, as they believed His words in the days and years to come. Jesus’ body and blood would bind them together as a people through faith in Him crucified and raised.  Jesus’ body and blood would strengthen and preserve them in this life until that glorious day when God will set the full heavenly feast and the whole creation will rejoice. On that day, all things will be made new, in heaven and on the earth.

This is what happened that night, so long ago. It was unexpected. It was new, a new gift from Christ, His body and blood to strengthen and forgive His disciples, to bind them together as one people. It was a new gift, until all things are made new. And all things are not yet fully made new—still there is sin and darkness and brokenness in the world and in our lives.

Since the glory and the banquet are not fully here, this gift that Jesus gave long ago—this new gift—it here also for us. It is Christ’s new gift for us, until all things are made new. This old, old story of what Christ gave His disciples—this story comes true again, right now, among us. What we do today is not just a remembering, it’s not just a symbol, it’s not an echo of what Jesus did. What Jesus gave His disciples that night, He gives also to us, and for the same reasons.

You see, we need this gift as often as we can receive it.  Every time Christians gather to believe what Jesus said about this bread and wine, Jesus gives Himself to poor miserable sinners. We believe His words that tell us that our mouths eat His body and our mouths drink His blood. Our hearts believe that this gift is to forgive us and to bind us together with each other in Him until all things are made new. We eat and drink together, as one people, even as we long for the day when all disciples will eat together at the table of the Lord. Because all things will be made new.

It was dark outside that night, long ago, and the disciples were troubled, afraid. They didn’t even recognize the new gift that Jesus was giving them. But after He rose from the dead, then they saw and believed.

It can be hard to be His disciples, also today. The same fear plagues us. It can be dark in our world, dark in our hearts. But fear not! Christ Jesus has given his body and poured out his blood to conquer your enemies both those without, and those within, to forgive your sins, and to bind you together in faith and in purpose. This old gift—is new again today. Receive it, receive Him again and again and again, until He comes to make all things new. Amen.

*This sermon was adapted from: THE WAY OF GRACE: A Sermon Series on the Sacraments Copyright © 2011, Concordia Seminary, St. Louis, MO.