The Lord's Supper

Having addressed holy baptism from three angles, it makes sense to treat the second Sacrament the same way: what it is, what benefits it offers, and who should receive it. Our guide throughout will be the words Christ used when He instituted this Sacrament, words that every person who wants to be a Christian and come to the Lord's Supper should know well. We are not willing to allow people to receive the Sacrament if they don't understand what they're receiving or why they've come. Those words are as follows: "Our Lord Jesus Christ, on the night He was betrayed, took bread; and when He had given thanks, He broke it and gave it to His disciples, saying: Take, eat; this is my body, which is given for you; do this in remembrance of me. In the same way, after supper, He took the cup, and when He had given thanks, He gave it to them, saying: Drink from it, all of you; this cup is the New Testament in my blood, which is shed for you for the forgiveness of sins; do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me." (Matt 26:26-28; Mark 14:22-24; Luke 22:19-20; 1 Cor 11:23-25)

We have no desire here to argue with those who blaspheme and desecrate this sacrament. Instead, let us begin as we did with baptism: by examining where the power of this sacrament actually lies, which is in God's Word and ordinance, His command. That is the central thing to understand. The Lord's Supper was not invented or established by any human being. Christ instituted it without human input or suggestion. This means that, just as the Ten Commandments, the Lord's Prayer, and the Creed retain their full essence and authority regardless of whether people obey, pray, or believe, this most precious Sacrament likewise retains its full essence and quality regardless of the worthiness of those who receive it. Consider what this implies: do you really think God is so swayed by our faith and behavior that He allows them to alter His ordinances? All created things remain exactly as God made and established them, no matter how we treat them. This point must always be upheld. It cannot be pressed too forcefully, because it thoroughly dismantles all the empty bluster of the sectarians who, contrary to the Word of God, treat the Sacraments as nothing more than human performances.

So what, then, is the Sacrament of the Altar? Answer: It is the true body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, present in and under the bread and wine, which Christians are commanded by Christ's own words to eat and to drink. As we said when discussing baptism, that it is not simply water, so we say here that the Lord's Supper is bread and wine, but not the ordinary bread and wine you would find at a dinner table. It is bread and wine that are encompassed by and bound together with God's Word.

It is the Word, I maintain, that constitutes this sacrament and determines the difference between ordinary bread and wine and a sacrament whose very name declares what it is: Christ's body and blood. As St. Augustine put it, "Let the Word be joined to the element, and it becomes a sacrament." This saying is so clear and so well expressed that Augustine may never have written anything better. The Word is what transforms the element into a sacrament; without it, the element remains nothing more than an element. And this is not the word or institution of some prince or emperor, but of the Supreme Majesty, before whom every creature should fall down and cry: Yes, it is exactly as He says. We should receive it with full honor, reverence, and humility. With this Word you can steady your conscience and say: Let a hundred thousand devils come, along with all the fanatics, demanding to know how bread and wine can be Christ's body and blood. I know that all the spirits and scholars in the world together do not possess even a fraction of the wisdom of the Divine Majesty. We have Christ's own words: "Take, eat; this is my body." "Drink ye all of it." "This cup is the New Testament in my blood," and so on. To these words we will hold fast, and we will see who dares to set his own authority above Christ's and alter what Christ Himself has taught. It is certainly true that you have nothing but bread and wine if you set the Word aside or simply ignore it; but it is equally certain that you have Christ's body and blood when Word and element remain together, as they should and must. For what we have from the mouth of Christ is exactly so: He cannot lie, and He cannot deceive.

With this authority established, it becomes easy to answer the questions that trouble so many people, such as whether a wicked priest may lawfully officiate and administer the Sacrament. Here we state our conclusion plainly: even if a scoundrel administers the Lord's Supper, or even receives it himself, what is given remains the true Sacrament, that is, the body and blood of Christ, just as surely as when the most devout believer partakes. The Sacrament does not rest on human holiness; it rests on the divine Word. Just as no saint on earth, nor any angel in heaven, has the power to transform bread and wine into Christ's body and blood, so likewise no person can alter or corrupt the Sacrament, even through misuse. The Word by which it was instituted as a sacrament does not become false because of someone's unworthiness or unbelief. Christ does not say: "If you believe, or if you are worthy, you receive my body and blood." He says: "Take, eat and drink; this is my body and blood." He also says, "Do this," meaning: do what I am now doing, what I am instituting, giving to you, and commanding you to receive. This is essentially saying: God gives, whether you are worthy or unworthy; you receive His body and blood here by virtue of the power of these words, which are joined to the bread and wine.

Take careful note of this and keep it firmly in mind, because our entire argument, our defense, and our protection against every error and temptation that has arisen or may yet arise all rest on these words.

We have briefly examined the first part of this Sacrament, namely its essential nature. Now we turn to its power and blessing, which is the most important part, since we need to understand why we come and what we receive. The words quoted earlier make this perfectly clear: This is my body and blood, given and shed for you for the remission of sins. Put simply, we come to Communion because we receive there a treasure through which we are granted the forgiveness of sins. How does this work? The words themselves convey it. When He invites us to eat and drink, His intent is that this gift should truly belong to us and become a source of blessing, serving as a pledge and guarantee of that forgiveness, and indeed as the very gift in which we find refuge from sin, death, and every misfortune.

It is fitting, then, that this Sacrament is called the food of the soul, since it nourishes and strengthens the new person within us. While baptism is where we are first born again, our human flesh and blood have not shed their old nature. There are so many obstacles and temptations from the devil and the world that we often grow weary and burdened, and sometimes we stumble. This is why the Lord's Supper is given as daily food and sustenance: so that our faith can refresh and renew itself, not retreating in the struggle but growing steadily stronger. The new life should be one of growth and forward movement, yet it must also endure a great deal. The devil is a relentless enemy. When he sees that we are on guard against him, fighting the old nature within us, and that he cannot break us by brute force, he turns to cunning and deception, exhausting every strategy, never stopping until he finally wears us down to the point where we either abandon our faith or simply give up, becoming dispirited and indifferent. For exactly these moments, this comfort is offered: when the heart feels crushed under the weight of it all, it can draw fresh strength and consolation from the Lord's Supper.

But here our clever and learned know-it-alls twist themselves into knots as they shout and bluster: How can bread and wine forgive sins or strengthen faith? Yet they know perfectly well that we never claimed this of bread and wine as such (bread, after all, is just bread), but of that bread and wine which are Christ's body and blood, united with the Word. These, we repeat, are the treasure. Now, this treasure reaches us in no other way than through the words "given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins." In those words you receive a double assurance: that it is Christ's body and blood, and that it belongs to you as your treasure and gift. Christ's body can never be a fruitless or empty thing, accomplishing nothing and benefiting no one. Yet however great the treasure may be in itself, it must be contained in the Word and offered to us through the Word, or we could never know of it or seek it.

So the argument made by those who claim that Christ's body and blood are not given or shed for us in the Lord's Supper falls apart entirely, as does their conclusion that we therefore cannot receive forgiveness of sins through the Sacrament. Yes, the work was completed on the cross and salvation was secured there, but it cannot reach us by any other means than through the Word. How would we even know it was finished and offered to us if it had not been proclaimed through preaching, through the spoken word? And how can those who reject the Scriptures and the Gospel claim to know anything about forgiveness, let alone take hold of it and apply it to themselves? The entire Gospel, along with the article of the Creed that reads "I believe in the holy Christian church, the forgiveness of sins," is bound up in the Lord's Supper and offered to us through the Word. Why would we allow this treasure to be stripped away from the Sacrament? Those who oppose this must still acknowledge that the words of Christ we have cited are the very same words we hear throughout the Gospel. In fact, they have no more grounds to call these words worthless when spoken in the Sacrament than they do to call the entire Gospel, or the Word of God outside the Sacrament, worthless.

So far, we have examined the Lord's Supper in terms of its essential nature and the blessings it contains. Now we need to consider how those blessings actually reach the person who receives them. The answer is brief, and consistent with what we said earlier about baptism: whoever believes these words receives what the words promise and deliver. These words are not spoken to stone or wood; they are spoken to those who hear them, to whom Christ says, "Take, eat," and so on. Since He offers and promises forgiveness of sins, there is no way to receive that forgiveness except through faith. Christ Himself makes this clear in His own words when He says, "Given and shed for you." It is as if He were saying: This is why I give it, and why I tell you to eat and drink, so that you will accept it and benefit from it. The person who takes these words to heart and believes them to be true receives exactly what they promise. But the person who does not believe receives nothing, because he lets the offer pass him by and refuses to embrace this gracious gift. The treasure is indeed laid open and placed before everyone's door, set right on the table before them. Even so, you must take it for yourself and trust with confidence that it is exactly what the words say it is.

This, then, is everything a Christian needs by way of preparation to receive the Sacrament worthily. Since this treasure is offered through words, it can only be grasped and made one's own by the heart. A gift of such eternal weight cannot be seized by the hand. Fasting, prayer, and similar practices may serve a legitimate purpose as outward preparation and as a kind of discipline for the young, cultivating a reverent and composed physical posture toward the body and blood of Christ. But what is given in and with the Sacrament cannot be grasped or received by the body. It is received by faith in the heart, which recognizes this treasure and longs for it. This is all that needs to be said for ordinary instruction on the Lord's Supper. Whatever more remains to be addressed belongs to another occasion.

Finally, the fact that we have a clear and correct understanding of the Lord's Supper should move us to urge and encourage one another not to let this great treasure go to waste. It is administered and distributed among Christians every day, and it should not be received in vain.

What I mean is this: those who call themselves Christians should prepare themselves and receive the blessed Sacrament frequently. It is obvious that we are prone to growing careless and lazy in this practice. Many who hear the Gospel, now that the pope's nonsense has been set aside and we are free from his oppression and control, let a year pass, or two or three years, or even longer, without receiving the Sacrament. They act as though they are such mature and self-sufficient Christians that they have no need of it. Some who stay away justify themselves by pointing to my own teaching, claiming that no one should come to the table unless they feel genuinely driven by hunger and thirst for it. Others argue that it is optional and not required, and that it is enough simply to believe in other respects. In this way, the majority grow completely indifferent, and eventually come to despise both the Sacrament and the Word of God altogether.

While we repeat our earlier point that we should never, under any circumstances, force or coerce anyone in this matter (lest we revive the old practice of destroying souls), let it be clearly understood that people who keep their distance from the Sacrament for long stretches of time cannot be considered Christians. Christ did not institute it as something to be watched from a distance; He commanded Christians to eat and drink, and in doing so to remember Him. True Christians who genuinely treasure this Sacrament will certainly feel compelled to partake in it. But then there are the ordinary people and the spiritually weak, who also want to be Christians. In order to help these people understand the reason and necessity for honoring the Sacrament, let us give this point some careful attention. Just as in other areas of the faith it is not enough to teach with faithfulness, love, and patience alone, but daily encouragement is also needed, so too we must keep preaching on this subject consistently, lest people grow lazy or indifferent. For we know that the devil constantly works against this and every other aspect of the Christian life, always looking to harass and drive away whoever he can.

First, we have a clear statement in Christ's own words: "This do in remembrance of me." These are words of command and instruction; through them, all who would be Christians are called to receive the Sacrament. They are words addressed to the disciples, so whoever wants to be counted among them should embrace the Sacrament both inwardly and outwardly, not out of compulsion imposed by other people, but out of a desire to please and obey the Lord Christ. You might object: but it is written in the same passage, "As oft as ye do it," which suggests He never forces anyone and leaves the matter to our own free choice. My answer is that this is true, but nowhere does it say we should never partake. In fact, the very phrase "as oft as ye do it" implies that we should do it frequently. These words were added because Christ wanted the Sacrament to be free from rigid rules about timing, unlike the Jewish Passover, which the people were required to celebrate only once a year, and only on the evening of the fourteenth day of the first full moon, with no variation permitted (Num 9:5). What Christ's words mean is this: I am establishing for you a feast and a supper, one you are not to observe merely on this one evening each year, but one you should celebrate often, whenever and wherever the opportunity and need arise, without being tied to any fixed place or time. The pope, however, later corrupted this and turned it into something as rigid and ceremonial as a Jewish festival.

So you can see that no one is given the freedom to treat the Sacrament with contempt. Going a long time without receiving it, with no real obstacle preventing you and no desire to receive it: that is what I mean by treating the Lord's Supper with contempt. If you want that kind of freedom, you might as well go a step further and stop being a Christian altogether, since then you won't need to believe or pray either. After all, Christ commanded all of these things equally. But if you want to be a Christian, you must periodically fulfill this obligation and obey it. This commandment should continually prompt you to examine yourself honestly and ask: What kind of Christian am I? If I were a genuine Christian, I would always feel at least some desire to do what my Lord commanded me to do.

The fact that we approach the Sacrament so half-heartedly reveals what kind of Christians we were under the papacy, when the weight of human authority drove us not by desire, not by love, and not even by respect for Christ's command, but by fear alone. We, however, compel or force no one, and no one should receive it simply to satisfy or please us. The fact that Christ desires it and that it brings Him joy should be reason enough to stir and motivate you. We should never let ourselves be pressured by other people either to believe or to do what is right. Our role is simply to instruct and remind you of your responsibility, not for our benefit, but for yours. He calls and invites you; if you reject that invitation, you will have to answer for it yourself. This is the first point, and it has been written especially for those who are lukewarm and indifferent, so that they might come to their senses and wake up. It is certainly true, as I have experienced personally and as everyone will discover for themselves, that when we withdraw from the Sacrament we grow coarser and colder with each passing day until we eventually stop caring about it altogether. But when we come to the Lord's Supper regularly, we are compelled to examine our hearts, our consciences, and our conduct, and to carry ourselves as people who genuinely want to be right with God. The more faithfully we do this, the more our hearts will be warmed and kindled, keeping us from growing completely cold.

But what if you feel unprepared? My answer is this: that feeling is my struggle too, and it comes from the old habits formed under the pope, when we tormented ourselves trying to be perfectly clean so that God Himself could find no fault in us. As a result, we became so fearful that anyone who stopped to reflect was immediately troubled, saying: "Alas, I am not worthy." At that point, our nature and reason compare our unworthiness with the great and priceless gift before us. It is like holding a dim lantern next to the blazing sun, or like setting refuse beside precious stones. Because nature and reason perceive this contrast so sharply, people refuse to come to the Lord's Supper and instead keep waiting until they feel ready, week after week, half-year after half-year. But if you are going to make your goodness and purity the condition, and insist that nothing trouble your conscience before you approach the table, then you will never approach it at all. We need to draw a clear distinction here between different kinds of people. The arrogant and unruly should be turned away, because they are not in a fit state to receive forgiveness: they don't want it, and they have no intention of living a godly life. But those who are not coarse or dissolute, who genuinely want to live for God, should not stay away, even if they are weak and struggling in other areas. As Hilary said: "Unless a person has committed a sin by which he has forfeited his standing as a Christian and for which he should rightly be expelled from the congregation, he should not exclude himself from the Sacrament, lest he deprive himself of life." No one will ever reach a level of perfection where he is free from the many daily failings that remain in his flesh and blood.

People who struggle with these doubts need to understand one foundational truth: this Sacrament does not rest on our worthiness. We are not baptized because we are holy or deserving, and we don't come to confession having already achieved purity and freedom from sin. On the contrary, we come as poor, broken people, and we come precisely because we are unworthy in ourselves. The only person excluded is the one who has no desire for grace and absolution, or who has no intention of changing his life. But anyone who genuinely longs for grace and consolation should resolve to come forward and let no one hold him back. He should say to himself: I sincerely want to be worthy, but I am not coming on the basis of my worthiness. I am coming on the basis of Your Word, because You have commanded it, and as someone who desires to be Your disciple, however little I deserve that honor. This is not easy, however. We are held back by our natural tendency to look inward at ourselves rather than outward to the lips of Christ and the words that proceed from them. Human nature is drawn in this direction by its deep desire to rely securely on itself, and where it cannot do that, it refuses to move at all. Let this be enough on the first part.

In the second place, a promise is attached to this commandment, as noted above, and it should move and compel us with great force. Here stand the tender and precious words: "This is my body, given for you. This is my blood, shed for you for the remission of sins." These words, as I said, are not spoken to wood and stone but to me and to you. If that were not so, Christ might just as well have said nothing and never instituted a Sacrament at all. So take these words seriously, and place yourself within that word "you," so that He does not speak to you in vain.

In this Sacrament, Christ offers us all the treasures He brought from heaven on our behalf, the same treasures to which He graciously invites us elsewhere in Scripture, as when He says, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest" (Matt 11:28). It is a genuine shame, then, that when He calls us so tenderly and faithfully to receive the greatest and most precious gift imaginable, we treat it as something foreign to us, neglecting the Lord's Supper so long that we eventually grow cold and indifferent, losing all desire and love for it entirely.

Do not make the mistake of treating the Sacrament as something dangerous to be avoided. It is, on the contrary, an extraordinarily healing and comforting medicine, beneficial and life-giving to both soul and body; for when the soul is restored, the body shares in that restoration as well. Why, then, behave as though the Sacrament were a poison we consume to our own destruction? It cannot be denied that those who despise the Sacrament and live unchristian lives receive it to their harm and condemnation. For such people, the Lord's Supper can do no more good than food can benefit a patient who deliberately ignores his physician's instructions. But those who feel their own weakness and genuinely want to be free of it, those who hunger for help, must not treat the Sacrament as anything other than a powerful antidote to the poison already working within them. In the Lord's Supper, you receive directly from Christ Himself the forgiveness of sins, which carries with it God's grace and the Holy Spirit, along with all His gifts: protection, refuge, and strength against death, the devil, and every form of evil.

So, on God's side you have both Christ's command and His promise, while on your side you should be moved by your own need, which presses on you and is precisely why this command, invitation, and promise exist. Christ himself says, "They that are whole have no need of a physician, but they that are sick" (Matt 9:12). The sick are those worn down and burdened by sin, fear of death, and the trials brought on by the flesh and the devil. If you are carrying that weight and feel your weaknesses, then come to the Sacrament with joy and receive refreshment, comfort, and strength. If you wait until you've shed your burden so you can arrive pure and worthy, you will never come at all; because Christ himself renders the verdict: if you are pure and godly, you have no need of Him and He has no need of you. Therefore, the only people who are truly unworthy are those who don't feel their own weakness and refuse to acknowledge themselves as sinners.

But you might ask: What should I do if I can't feel this need, or experience any hunger and thirst for the Sacrament? Here is my answer: For those who feel no such need, I know of no better advice than this: look deeply into your own heart and ask whether you are not made of flesh and blood like everyone else. If you find that you are, then turn to Paul's letter to the Galatians and read what he says about the works of the flesh: "Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these: fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousies, wraths, factions, divisions, parties, envyings, drunkenness, revellings, and such like" (Gal 5:19-21). So even if you feel no need, trust the Scriptures anyway; they will not deceive you, because they understand your flesh better than you understand it yourself. Paul goes even further, writing: "I know that in me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing" (Rom 7:18). If Paul was willing to say that about his own flesh, we have no business pretending to be more righteous or holy than he was. The fact that we don't feel our sin only makes things worse, because it's a sign that our flesh is like leprous flesh: numb to its own condition, yet still spreading its disease and consuming everything around it. As I said before, even if you are completely dead in sin, trust the Scriptures and the verdict they pronounce over you. Simply put, the less you feel your sins and weaknesses, the more reason you have to go to the Sacrament and seek its remedy.

Second, look around you and take stock of the world you live in. If you're not sure what you'll find, ask your neighbor. And once you've looked, don't fool yourself into thinking that sin and suffering will somehow pass you by. Try to live a godly life, hold firmly to the Gospel, and see how long it takes before someone becomes your enemy, wronging you, treating you unjustly, or doing you harm, and in doing so, giving you every reason to respond with sin of your own. If you haven't experienced this kind of opposition yet, then let Scripture teach you what to expect, because it testifies everywhere to exactly this kind of treatment at the hands of the world.

Beyond the flesh and the world, you also have the devil to contend with, and you will never fully crush him underfoot. Even Christ our Lord could not escape his temptations. So what is the devil? Exactly what Scripture calls him: a liar and a murderer (John 8:44). He is a liar who draws the heart away from God's Word and blinds it, leaving you unable to recognize your own need or turn to Christ. He is a murderer who begrudges you every hour of your life. If you could actually see the daggers, spears, and arrows aimed at you at every moment, you would rush to the Sacrament as often as you possibly could. The only reason people drift along so carelessly and without concern is that they don't truly believe they are living in the flesh, in a corrupt world, and under the devil's dominion. So make a deliberate choice to examine yourself: look honestly at your situation, and hold yourself to what Scripture says. Even if you feel nothing after doing that, you have all the more reason to bring your complaint before God and before a fellow believer. Let others counsel you and pray for you, and don't give up until the weight has lifted from your heart. Your distress will surface eventually, and you will realize that you have fallen twice as far as any other poor sinner and are desperately in need of the Lord's Supper to carry you through your misery. Tragically, you can't see that misery right now, even though God gives His grace so that you might feel your need more deeply and grow ever hungrier for the Sacrament. The devil is pressing hard against you, relentlessly pursuing you to destroy both body and soul, and you are never truly safe from him for even a moment. How quickly he could have plunged you into ruin when you least saw it coming!

Let this serve as an encouragement, not only for those of us who are older and more established in our faith, but also for the young, who need to be raised with a solid grounding in Christian teaching and a genuine understanding of it. With that kind of formation, we could far more effectively instill in the young the Ten Commandments, the Creed, and the Lord's Prayer. They would learn these things eagerly and seriously, practicing them until they became second nature from childhood onward. Trying to reshape the habits of older people is largely a lost cause. Our energy is better spent on those who will come after us, who will fill our roles and carry on our work, so that they in turn can raise their own children to live fruitful, virtuous lives. That is how God's Word and the Christian faith will endure. So let every head of a household take seriously the obligation that God's own command places on him: to teach his children, or to see that they are taught, everything they need to know. Since they have been baptized and welcomed into the Christian community, they should likewise be brought into full fellowship at the Lord's Supper, so that they can serve alongside us and contribute to the life of the church. We need every one of them as we press on together in faith, in love, in prayer, and in the ongoing struggle against the devil.