LS-05-Eucharista

Eucharista He took the cup, and gave thanks.--Matthew 26:27. The cup! That which represented His blood, to be shed the next day! Holding in His hand the symbol of His own pain, He gave thanks, as though He rejoiced in the prospect of death. Yet we know He shrank from that terrible experience. "Now is My soul troubled," He had said, only two or three days before, when He thought of the sacrifice He must make, "now is My soul troubled, and what shall I say? Father, save Me from this hour." The contumely, the shame, the hate of men He loved, the physical distress and agony which He could anticipate only too well--His soul revolted against it all, and He would have avoided it if He could. That very night, when He went from the table where, cup in hand, He had given thanks, He bowed Himself in agony, and earnestly prayed that the cup of suffering which the other had symbolised might be taken away. Again and again He prayed, saying the same words: "Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me, nevertheless, not as 1 will, but as Thou wilt."

What was the meaning of it all? Man-like, He shrank from the physical distress that was involved. But this alone is not sufficient to account for the weight of woe that oppressed Him. Rather, His pure soul recoiled from bearing the burden of guilt that must become His as the sin-bearer of the world. But Saviour-like, He rejoiced in His God-appointed mission to redeem the sons of men. "Except a grain of wheat fall into the earth and die, it abideth by itself alone; but if it die, it beareth much fruit." For this He gave thanks, even though it involved such tremendous cost to Him. "For the joy that was set before Him He endured the cross, despising shame," knowing that one day He would see of the travail of His soul and be satisfied.

O Lamb of God, I silent stand
Before this mystery;
Thou gavest thanks with cup in hand
For Thine own agony!

O love unmeasured, love unknown!
How couldst Thou thankful be,
To leave Thy glory-circled throne
To shed Thy blood for me?

How shall I dare this cup to drain,
Unless it mean for me
A holy passion to be slain
To save a world with Thee!

O blood of Christ, transform in me
This selfish heart of mine,
Till I shall wish my blood might be
A lost world’s saving wine!

--A. C. Townsend.