And as they were eating he said, Verily I say to you, that one of you shall deliver me up.
It is the last evening before the cross. The Lord is at the table with His twelve disciples, and He tells them that His betrayer is one of them — without naming him.
Everything is closing in on Him, yet He stays calm. During the meal, He lets the disciples hear the grief in His heart.
Still, in the face of it all, the Lord goes on in His path of love and holy calm. As the twelve were eating, He tells out the grief of His heart: "Truly, I say to you, one of you will betray me" (v. 21) — and this draws out the reality of their affections and their deep grief.
What made this hurt so much? One writer, commenting on Mark's record of the same words, points to the love that was thrown away.
The Lord's love was perfect. He felt deeply that one of those who had lived in His holy presence, heard His words of grace, and seen His infinite love and patience, should act like this. His words, "One of you who eats with me will betray me," came out of the anguish of His heart. The greater and more perfect the love, the greater the anguish when someone betrays that love. Never had love in all its perfection been so expressed as in Christ, and never had anyone lived outwardly so near to Christ as Judas. Yet it was all in vain, for even if he had any appreciation of that love, he loved money more.
The words search every man at the table. They land hardest on the one who already knew the answer.
At once we see Him at the table with the twelve. While they were eating, He announces that one of them is the traitor. We may well take what follows in that conversation as a last warning to Judas. The Lord had seen him turning to the chief priests and knew of his bargaining with them. He read the whole dark story in that heart, which lay before Him, the One who knows all things, like an open book. "Truly, I say to you, one of you will betray me." These words must have aimed at the conscience of Judas Iscariot.
They did not defend themselves or hunt for the guilty man. They turned the question inward.
The Lord knew well who the traitor would be, but He expresses the anguish of His heart when He says, "one of you will betray me." He wanted to test their hearts again and bring to light what was inside them. They believed the Lord's words, and each one, full of trust in Him and of holy distrust of himself, said, "Lord, is it I?" Here is a fine testimony of upright and tested hearts. They weighed the fact and the possibility of such a crime, trusting Jesus' word more than themselves.
One writer turns the same question on the reader:
"They looked at one another, uncertain of whom He spoke." Can you understand that? Before your conscience wakes up, you look at other people... Have you ever, as a sinner, asked yourself the question — Is it I? Oh, but you say, I could never betray Christ. Well, I am perfectly sure I could, knowing my own heart. And, my dear friends, the person who is certain he can never do it is the very person who will go and do it.
The betrayal did not catch God off guard. That does not clear the man who carried it out.
But the betrayal of Judas was long foretold: it was all taking place "as it is written." But woe to the betrayer, for it has been said, "The carrying out of God's purposes does not take away the guilt of those who fulfil them; otherwise how could God judge the world?"
When Paul tells how the Lord's Supper began, he dates it by the betrayal, not by the crucifixion.
Left to his own wisdom, Paul would most likely have connected the account of the Supper, as we would have, with the crucifixion... But that was not the way he received it from the Lord... It was on the night of the betrayal. The betrayal is the background that makes the love shine out — the love that moved the Lord to give us the Supper. He gave it so that we might keep it as a memorial of His death until He comes.
- Nearness — no stranger sold Him. The betrayer had lived closest to Him and heard His words of grace.
- Love — the deeper the love, the deeper the wound; the anguish measures the perfection of the heart that felt it.
- Warning — the unnamed "one of you" was a final appeal to a conscience the Lord could read like an open book.
- Self-distrust — the disciples trusted His word more than their own hearts. They asked "Is it I?" instead of pointing at anyone else.
- Memorial — God chose that same night of betrayal for the Supper, so love shines out against the darkest background.
And being exceedingly grieved they began to say to him, each of them, Is it *I*, Lord?
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
But he answering said, He that dips his hand with me in the dish, *he* it is who shall deliver me up.
The scene is the Passover table on the night before the cross. The Lord has just said that one of His twelve closest followers, sitting at that table, will hand Him over. His answer to their alarmed questions does not name a man; it names an act — a hand reaching into the same bowl as His own.
The Lord marks the betrayer by the closest gesture of the meal. One writer ties this back to the prophetic Psalms, which show where the pain cut deepest.
Yet here too the presence of grace would ripen the power of evil. The one who dipped his hand in the dish with Christ was the one who would betray Him, and as we read elsewhere, after taking the piece of bread he went out. God prepares it all, and the Lord uses it with the calm of divine perfection... The Lord's answer points back to the prophecy that spoke of His sorrow and of why it cut so deep. See Psalm 41:9; 55:12.
That Psalm also names what drove the man, and it was not hatred.
Such were His enemies: but more sadly still He says, "Even my close friend in whom I trusted, who ate my bread, has lifted his heel against me" (v. 9). Of course, this was Judas, who did not do this out of personal hatred, but out of contemptible greed.
The Lord does not point straight at Judas. He draws the circle tighter one sentence at a time, and one writer sees a purpose in that pace.
The Lord then points out the traitor, but step by step, as if to alarm the conscience and stir it to repentance before the guilt was fixed. "One of you will betray Me." Then "He who has dipped his hand in the dish with Me."
Judas kept eating from the same dish after hearing those words. That act showed what he was doing to his own conscience.
His answer to this was that the betrayer would dip his hand in the dish with the Lord Himself. This act would show a brazen attitude of resisting his own conscience. The Son of Man would go to the cross, as God had purposed. Yet the woe He pronounces on the betrayer shows it would have been better for that man never to have been born.
One writer reads this moment from four directions at once. He still holds that God's plan never made Judas sinful.
"One of the Twelve, he who dips with Me in the dish"... It was man's sin, Satan's guile, God's counsel, and Christ's love. But none of these things altered the wickedness of Judas... God did not make him wicked, but his wickedness was shaped to this end, to fulfil God's purposes. One of the group chosen to be with Jesus on earth would prove this awful truth. The nearer a man stands to blessing on the outside, the further his heart is from it — if he never takes it in.
Sharing the dish with Christ did not help Judas. One writer traces the reason to a conscience that this closeness never touched.
And now we find the result of outward nearness to the Lord while the conscience is unaffected... He stays this close to Christ, until we read that "after he had taken the morsel, Satan entered into him." Living as a hypocrite, his heart grows hard. Then Satan comes between his conscience and all hope of pardon. Many a natural man would not betray a friend with a kiss, as Judas soon after did. His nearness only hardened him — he took the piece of bread from the Lord's own hand!
The other disciples still did not know whom He meant. His words reached one man's ears, not the table's judgment.
The Scripture had spoken of him as the one who was near to the Lord, eating bread with Him, then lifting up his heel against Him. By this Scripture the Lord appealed to Judas, letting him know that He knew all this. Yet patient, suffering love did not reveal him to the rest of the disciples. The Lord did make known to them how deeply He felt Judas' betrayal, but He did not rebuke him in front of them. How perfect was the Lord's love! In bearing with him was there not an appeal to his heart and conscience?
- Table. The Lord marks the betrayer by a shared meal — a hand in the same dish. Psalm 41:9 had drawn that picture long before.
- Warning. The Lord narrows His words by stages. He wants to rouse the conscience to repentance before the guilt is fixed.
- Counsel. Man's sin, Satan's guile, God's counsel and Christ's love all meet here. God's plan did not make Judas wicked, and the guilt stays his.
- Nearness. Closeness to Christ with an untouched conscience does not soften a man — it hardens him. Judas took the bread from Jesus' own hand.
- Love. Even at this point the appeal is personal, not public: He tells Judas that He knows, yet does not expose him to the rest.
The Son of man goes indeed, according as it is written concerning him, but woe to that man by whom the Son of man is delivered up; it were good for that man if he had not been born.
The Lord speaks these words while the man who will betray Him still sits at the table. He joins two things that seem to clash: a death written in Scripture long before, and a betrayer who carries full guilt for it. How can God's fixed purpose and a man's guilt both stand? The verse holds both, then ends with the most terrible words ever said about anyone.
The Lord does not treat His betrayal as an accident. Scripture had marked out His path long before, and that gives the believer solid ground:
Judas could, after all, only carry out the purpose of God, and the Saviour pointed this out... It is a great support to the heart of the believer to know this. Neither the wickedness of man nor the schemes of Satan can defeat any purpose of God. God makes rebels against their Maker, human or angelic, serve the final result He has planned, even against their own will. Of course, this does not lessen their wickedness in the smallest degree. God and His purposes have no place at all in their thoughts.
Four things met at that table, and none of them cancelled the others:
It was man's sin, Satan's cunning, God's purpose, and Christ's love. But none of these things changed the wickedness of Judas: "It would have been better for that man if he had not been born." He was appointed, we may say, to this condemnation. God did not make him wicked. God gave his wickedness the shape that would fulfil His own purpose.
Judas heard this sentence before he had done the deed. That is not only exposure. It is a last appeal:
God's love would not give up even a Judas without warning. So love had to let him know that "even the night" was "light about" him. Scripture had also warned and pointed him out. And the Lord adds His terrible warning: "It would have been better for that man if he had not been born."
The Lord closes in by stages instead of naming the man at once. Notice too the one title Judas will not use:
Next the Lord points out the traitor, but step by step, as if to alarm the conscience and stir it to repentance before the guilt became final... Judas is the slowest of all to speak up with his question. He asks it knowing with deadly certainty what the answer would be, yet he looks as innocent as the rest. But notice, he does not call Christ his "Lord," as the others do. That is over for him: it is "Rabbi, is it I?"... He has heard that terrible "woe" from lips that never lie. Even so, he goes away and sets himself to do the thing that would mark him for all eternity as the "son of perdition." Such is the hardening power of sin.
Judas had every outward advantage. That is what makes his case so frightening. Being near Christ, with the conscience untouched, does not soften a person:
There was sin in Judas's nature, and it showed itself as the love of money. Next, Satan suggested a way to satisfy that craving, for Judas loved money more than he loved Jesus. Here we see what outward nearness to the Lord does when it never touches the conscience... While he lived as a hypocrite, his heart grew hard. Then Satan came between his conscience and all hope of pardon. Many an unconverted man would not betray a friend with a kiss, as Judas soon did. His nearness only hardened him.
This sentence stands alone. These words belong to one man only, and his life fills out what they mean:
Of only one man has our Lord ever said, "It would have been better for that man if he had not been born" (Matt. 26:24). Judas turned away from the faith. He was the "son of perdition," a man marked out for ruin. Satan entered his heart. He sold his Master for thirty pieces of silver and betrayed Him with a kiss. Then, filled with remorse, he went and hanged himself, and "went to his own place."
The words also settle a question people still ask: might the lost be restored in the end? Test that hope against this sentence:
Suppose Judas' fall ended with him restored to a safer blessing than before. Then it would have been good for him to have been born, and his case would be the highest witness of grace... But the Lord's word about Judas is absolute: better not to have been born.
- Written — Scripture fixed the Son of Man's road to the cross. No wickedness of man and no scheme of Satan can break God's purpose.
- Guilty — God's plan excuses nobody. God did not make Judas wicked. He gave that wickedness the shape His own purpose had foretold.
- Warned — the Lord spoke the woe to the traitor's face, step by step. Love would not let even a Judas go without one last appeal.
- Hardened — nearness to Christ without a changed heart softens nobody. It hardens, until hypocrisy shuts the door on pardon.
- Absolute — "better not to have been born" is a verdict with no reversal hidden inside it. The words leave no room for the hope that the lost are restored in the end.
And Judas, who delivered him up, answering said, Is it *I*, Rabbi? He says to him, *Thou* hast said.
At the supper table the Lord says that one of the men eating with Him will hand Him over. Each disciple, unsure of himself, asks, "Is it I?" — and so, at last, does Judas.
Only one man at the table had still not spoken.
We can picture the scene. Each one distrusted himself and asked, "Is it I?" It seems no one stayed silent except Judas. Staying silent any longer would give him away, so at last he had the nerve to say, as Matthew has recorded, "Rabbi, is it I?"
The Lord did not name the traitor at once.
Next the Lord points out the traitor, but step by step. It is as if He wants to alarm the conscience and stir it to repentance before the guilt is final. "One of you shall deliver Me up." Then, "he who dips his hand with Me in the dish." Judas is the slowest of all to respond. He asks his question knowing for certain what the answer would be, yet he wears the same look of innocence as the rest.
The others said "Lord." Judas used a teacher's title instead.
It is striking that John and his companions called the Saviour "Lord," while the betrayer called Him only "Rabbi" (Matthew 26:25). There is no recorded instance of Judas ever giving Him the higher title. To truly acknowledge Jesus as Lord is the fruit of a work of the Holy Spirit within (1 Cor. 12:3).
Judas hears an answer, not a hint.
The others have asked the question, so Judas can hardly stay silent. He asks, "Master (not Lord), is it I?" He is stubborn and set on doing his own will, so he can hardly use the word "Lord." The Lord answers with an emphatic "You have said so." It means, "as you suggest, so it stands." The Lord had shown him that He knew his plans. Even so, the unhappy man would not turn from the folly of his headlong course. It seems that at this point Judas went out (John 13:26-30).
He uses the same form of words again later in this chapter.
Jesus replies, "You have said so." It is a quiet way of saying yes. We meet it again in the latter part of this same chapter (v. 64).
The Lord had just said that the Son of Man goes as it is written of Him. Does that make the betrayal any less Judas's own?
There we see it fulfilled by the will of God. Although it was "by the foreknowledge of God," it did not relieve Judas of his responsibility. Peter speaks of people appointed to stumble. They were not appointed to be disobedient, but to stumble if they were disobedient. Yet all of it was foreknown. The guilt of it rested on Judas, but "it had been good for that man if he had never been born." How appalling! Yet after hearing this Judas says, "Is it I, Rabbi?"
Four things met at that table, and none of them cancelled the others.
It was man's sin, Satan's guile, God's counsel, and Christ's love. But none of these things altered the wickedness of Judas... One of that company chosen to be with Jesus here below was to prove this awful truth. If a man does not receive blessing into his heart, then the closer he stands to it on the outside, the further he is from it morally.
Being close to Christ is never a neutral thing.
Judas, found out, takes the piece of bread, and the greed that ruled his heart won the day. Satan used this to destroy him. He hardened Judas's heart against every feeling of common humanity... Nearness to Jesus, without faith, and with a heart that His presence does not touch, only hardens in a terrible way.
- Near. Judas held the closest place a man could hold. Yet nearness to blessing on the outside, if it is never received inside, leaves a man further away, not closer.
- Warned. The Lord came at him in stages — "one of you," then "he who dips with Me" — to wake his conscience before the guilt was final.
- Named. Judas asked with the same look of innocence as the rest. The answer came straight back: as you say, so it stands.
- Withheld. He said "Rabbi," never "Lord" — and owning Jesus as Lord is the fruit of the Holy Spirit's work inside a person.
- Hardened. God foreknew the betrayal, yet the act was Judas's own. Closeness without faith did not soften him; it hardened him.
And as they were eating, Jesus, having taken [the] bread and blessed, broke [it] and gave [it] to the disciples, and said, Take, eat this is my body.
This happens in the middle of the passover meal, hours before the cross. Jesus takes bread, gives thanks, breaks it, and hands it to His disciples with words that have shaped Christian worship ever since. Two questions sit at the heart of this verse: what was He starting, and what did He mean by calling the bread His body?
The bread was there for the passover, Israel's yearly meal. But what Jesus did with it belonged to something else.
While the disciples were eating, the Lord took bread. This act was not part of the passover ritual. It was quite separate, and quite different in meaning. They kept the passover supper and held to the set form of the ceremony. Then the Lord began a new Supper that would take its place. The sacrifice of our Lord Himself was about to fulfil the passover, and once it was fulfilled, the passover disappears as an appointed feast for the Christian era.
At this new meal He takes a different place.
Now the Lord was like the host. It was His supper, and the disciples were the guests seated at His table. Of His supper, of course, He did not eat. Of the passover He did. There He was one of Israel, remembering the nation's rescue from judgment in Egypt. At the supper He was the One who handed His disciples the memorial of His death. At the passover they remembered the goodness of Jehovah towards Israel; at the Lord's Supper the death of the Lord Jesus was to be before their minds.
Our verse says He blessed "it," and that small word can make readers think something happened to the bread. Another Gospel explains what He did.
The "it" in our version might lead people astray. Another Gospel says, "he gave thanks." When God blesses, He gives a benefit, and gives happiness and joy. When a man blesses his fellow man, it means he wants happiness for him. But when we bless God, we praise Him, we speak well of Him. It means to praise Him highly. So the Lord looked up and blessed — which is the same as giving thanks. The "it" is printed in italics, and many leave it out.
The cross was hours away, and thanksgiving filled Him.
What a moment that must have been, when they heard Him giving thanks in view of His death on the cross! Thanksgiving, not prayer, filled Him at that time. How this speaks to us! He knew — and His act of giving thanks showed it — that nothing could make His atoning death more effective. Once that death had taken place, nothing a sinner needs from a sacrifice would be missing.
So how should we take His words?
There is no need for strange ideas about the bread. Let us be clear that the material is bread, and that it stays bread. He said, "This is My body," using a figure of speech, as He often did... When He said "This is My body," He gave the loaf a special meaning as His memorial. This, and nothing else, was to be the emblem that would set His body before them.
The circumstances of that evening rule out a literal reading.
So when the Lord says, "this is my body," everyone agrees He is speaking figuratively. It is still bread. It could not be His body then. He was not holding His own body in His own hand, and no such body existed yet — that is, a body dead, with the blood poured out... It is the figure of Christ as a victim, and only that.
He put the bread into their hands. In Scripture, eating carries its own meaning.
To eat together of the same bread or food is a token of friendship... In the Lord's Supper the Christian eats that which is a symbol of the body of Christ, Matt. 26:26, and in eating he has communion with Christ's death.
His words point to Himself, not to the bread.
It matters more than anything to remember that the Lord Jesus Christ is the central figure of this supper. He is there! He is the One who makes the supper real by His presence. He is the One who gives value and worth to our memorial service.
That shapes how Christians keep it, and what it is not.
We believe that Christians should keep the Lord's Supper every Lord's day, and that in doing so they remember His death until He comes. We see no authority in the word of God for treating it as "a sacrifice," "a sacrament," or "a covenant." The word is, "Do this in remembrance of me."
- Took — He took bread from the passover table, but began something new. The old feast was about to be fulfilled, and then it would pass away.
- Blessed — the word means He gave thanks to God. He did nothing to the bread. Translators supplied the word "it," and many leave it out.
- Broke — He gave thanks with the cross in view. Nothing could be added to His sacrifice, and nothing a sinner needs would be missing from it.
- Gave — the bread is a figure of His body, chosen by Him as the one emblem to recall it; eating it is communion with His death.
- Eat — the centre is the Person, not the emblem: "This is My body" points to "in remembrance of Me."
And having taken [the] cup and given thanks, he gave [it] to them, saying, Drink ye all of it.
After the bread came the cup: He took it, gave thanks, and passed it round with a command that left no one out. That raises two questions — why give thanks on the night before the cross, and who is meant by "all of you"?
Notice who moves first at the table.
Now He took the cup (Matt. 26:27) — an act He did of His own accord — and gave thanks. How full His heart must have been! After that He handed it to His disciples, with words explaining what it stood for: "This cup is the new covenant in My blood, which is shed for you." So Luke writes.
Some read the blessing over the cup as a formula that changes the wine. The word means something simpler.
All those who have taken refuge in this blood of the Lord now know about a cup of blessing. It goes on to say, "The cup of blessing which we bless." This does not mean "consecrate" but simply, "we give thanks." We can prove this from Matthew 26, verse 26, where He took the bread and blessed it. The note in the margin there reads simply, "given thanks."
The bread alone would not have said everything. Two separate things on the table say one thing together.
The bread was the body, and the wine the blood. Kept apart in that symbolic way, together they truly showed the death of the Lord Jesus Christ. In the body, as we know, the blood is the life... But blood seen on its own is the witness of death.
One writer describes what the disciples were meant to feel as the cup came round.
This was to assure their souls that the sea was dry, the fire was quenched, and the sword had drunk its fill. The overflow of that blood was there to support them and give them joy along the way. The cup once filled with wrath had been emptied and its last drops wrung out. Now it was filled to the brim with the blood that told of pardon, peace with God, and separation from a world of sin and sorrow.
Matthew records the invitation. Mark records that they all drank. Put the two together and a question follows.
"Drink of it, all of you" (Matt. 26:27) was the Lord's invitation to His disciples, and surely His invitation today to all His own is just the same. "They all drank of it" we read in Mark 14:23... For whom is the Lord's Supper? Is it the badge of membership of a particular body of Christians? To raise this question is to answer it... It is the LORD'S Supper. It is where He should be supreme. His invitation is for all the blood-bought children of God.
Notice which element carried the command. Nobody needs to be told to eat.
They all were to drink of the wine, knowing beforehand that the cup would one day be kept from most professing Christians. He did not say, "Eat of it, all of you," for that instruction would be quite unnecessary. But He did say, "Drink of it, all of you," and Mark records the fact, "they all drank of it."
Some churches later kept the cup from ordinary members. One writer weighs what that costs.
The cup is denied to ordinary church members. To comfort them, they are assured that a whole Christ — body, blood, soul and divinity — is contained under both kinds, that is, in the bread and in the wine. But if the blood is still in the body, there is no redemption. They are celebrating a Christ still living on earth, before He had shed any blood to redeem us. It is a sacrament of non-redemption.
What He did with the cup sets the pattern for anyone who passes it now.
I can see no warrant in Scripture for anyone breaking the bread, or giving the cup, without giving thanks. Matthew 26:26-27, Mark 14:22-23, Luke 22:19 and 1 Corinthians 11:24 all tell us that the Lord Jesus gave thanks when He broke the bread and took the cup. In 1 Corinthians 10:16, the cup is called the cup of blessing, or of thanksgiving.
- He took. No one handed Him this cup; He reached for it Himself, on the night before the cross, and gave thanks.
- He gave thanks. "Blessing" here is thanksgiving, not a formula that changes the wine.
- He emptied. The cup of wrath was drained to its dregs, so that the cup He hands round is filled with pardon and peace.
- He gave it to them. Bread and wine kept separate are the witness that He truly died.
- All of you. He said "all" over the cup, and the cup is the part later kept back. Take it away and you lose the witness that blood was shed.
For this is my blood, that of the [new] covenant, that shed for many for remission of sins.
The words over the cup at the last supper look back to a promise made centuries earlier, and forward to a day still ahead for Israel. They also settle what the cup means for anyone who drinks it: a covenant, a price paid, and sins forgiven.
The ESV reads "my blood of the covenant." Older English versions say "new testament" here, and the writers quoted below keep that older wording. Commentators say the words of the verse rule out a will:
First, how could the word "new" properly apply to a "testament" or will? Nobody ever talks about a "new" will. Second, there is another and stronger objection. What has "blood" to do with a testament or will? The moment we turn to the new "covenant" all is in place. The blood of Christ is exactly its foundation… What has a "testament" to do with "remission of sins"? What has a will to do with blood?
Israel's first covenant was also opened with blood, at Mount Sinai. The parallel only sharpens the contrast:
The blood of the first covenant testified that anyone breaking it would merit death. The blood of the new covenant tells us that the mediator has paid the price: His blood was shed.
Jeremiah was the prophet who promised a new covenant. One writer shows what the Lord added to that promise at the table:
Of all the Old Testament writers, Jeremiah is the only one who mentions the new covenant, though other prophets describe blessings people will enjoy under it… Jeremiah foretold the new covenant and its blessings: the knowledge of God, and the forgiveness of sins. But he did not say what sacrifice this covenant would rest on. The Lord did that when He said, "This is my blood of the new covenant, which is shed for many for the remission of sins."
Luke's account of the same night says "which is poured out for you." Matthew uses a wider word on purpose, and one writer draws out why:
Was not the blood of Christ "shed for many"? We do well to note this wording, and to note that it stands in the Gospel of Matthew… in the first Gospel the phrase is broader, and deliberately so: "shed for many." Matthew presents the Lord as the Messiah of Israel. But His rejection by that people opens the door of blessing to those outside the Jewish circle… Israel's unbelief has not stopped the flow of God's grace. In the wisdom of God, their unbelief became the occasion for turning that grace aside from them (though only for a while), and for making it overflow every barrier, so that it reaches outsiders such as we are.
The Lord handed the cup to the disciples to drink. One writer describes what it was meant to tell them:
This was to assure their souls that the sea was dry, the fire was out, and the sword had drunk its fill. The overflow of that blood was their support and their joy along the way. The cup once filled with wrath had been emptied, down to the last drop. In its place the blood now filled it to the brim — blood that spoke of pardon, peace with God, and separation from a world of sin and sorrow.
The cup separates the blood from the body. The supper holds Him before us in His death:
He then draws their attention to the blood of the new covenant, adding words that extend it to others besides the Jews, without naming them — "It is shed for many." And this blood is not, as at Sinai, only there to confirm a covenant they were responsible to keep faithfully. It was shed for the remission of sins… It is only in His death that the supper presents Him to us. His blood is apart from His body: He is dead.
Israel will enter this covenant in a coming day. Believers are not left waiting for it:
Forgiveness of sins we enjoy now, and Israel will enjoy it later; but they will only know it as part of the blessings of the new covenant, once that covenant has been made with them. We who believe know it now, because the blood on which it will rest has been shed.
- Covenant. The word means an agreement, not a will — "new" and "blood" and "forgiveness" only fit a covenant.
- Cost. At Sinai, blood warned that breaking the covenant meant death. Here, blood says the mediator has already paid.
- Content. Jeremiah promised the covenant; only at the cup did the Lord name the sacrifice it would rest on.
- Compass. "For many" reaches past Israel. Their unbelief became the occasion for grace to overflow to outsiders.
- Consequence. The cup once filled with wrath now tells of pardon and peace with God. Believers have that forgiveness today; Israel will have it when the covenant is made with them.
But I say to you, that I will not at all drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it new with you in the kingdom of my Father.
Jesus has just handed His disciples the bread and the cup. His next words look past the cross to a table still to come, and they raise three questions: why He stops drinking, what the wine means, and when that day comes.
The words carry the shape of an ancient vow. Under the law of the Nazirite, a person set apart to God stayed away from the vine while his separation lasted. He drank wine only when the vow ended. One writer sees the Lord doing the same, with a fixed end in view.
This remarkable "law" leads us on to something future. Then the full result of Christ's perfect work will appear. Then He — as the Messiah of Israel — will taste true joy in His beloved people, and in this earth, at the close of His Nazirite separation. The time will then have come for the Nazirite to drink wine. From all this He set Himself apart, so that He could do that great work.
The vine is not chosen at random. In Scripture wine is the drink of shared gladness, and to stop drinking it is to step out of company.
The fruit of the vine is the sign of social joy — "wine which cheers the heart of God and man." They kept sprinkling it on the burnt offerings and the peace offerings, that is, offerings with a pleasing aroma. Now He would drink no more of this fruit of the vine. His disciples would drink deeply of His death, the true drink — but a drink of separation from sin, and from Christ too, as far as His personal presence goes.
The heart of the promise is not the wine but the company. He does not say He will drink again — He says He will drink it with them. One writer traces what stands in the way, and what removes it.
He would join the disciples, as the representatives of God's remnant in Israel, only when He came in the kingdom of His Father. Then He would share with them the full joy and blessedness that crowns the fulfilment of the new covenant… There was rich and profound love in that word. There was a hindrance now, and His blood would deal with it. Later there would be none, when all would be divine joy — the Father the blessed source, and Himself the centre and the substance of it.
He names the place as well as the day. The phrase He uses for it is rare, and that rarity carries weight.
The wine speaks of the joy He will share with us. It is the intense joy that will be His in that new state of things — that vast system of glory, of which He will be the Head and Centre. The expression "the kingdom of my Father" occurs only in Matthew: in the Lord's prayer; in chapter 13, "Then the righteous will shine… in the kingdom of their Father"; and here. It is the heavenly side of the world to come.
Commentators differ over who the "you" points to. Some see the disciples at that table as standing for the believing remnant of Israel who will welcome Him at His return. Others see them as the first company of the church. One writer holds both together.
The little company in that upper room on the night of the Lord's betrayal had a twofold aspect. They stood for the remnant of Israel… After the Church has been caught up to be with the Lord forever, a remnant of Israel will come out of the Great Tribulation with the same marks. Their Lord will drink the fruit of the vine with them when He returns in triumph to claim the earth for Himself. That act will carry the special meaning of being new with them… But these disciples were also the first core of the new company that the Holy Spirit would form when He came.
Verse 29 also guards the meaning of what He has just given. He has just called the cup His blood of the covenant. Now He calls the same cup the fruit of the vine. One writer draws the plain conclusion.
The Lord has made the cup of His blood which we drink real and absolutely true for the soul and for faith. Yet He goes on to declare plainly that the fruit of the vine is not His blood. He says He will not drink of it at all until He drinks it new with us in the kingdom of His Father.
- Vow. He takes the Nazirite's place of separation. He gives up the wine of shared gladness until the day His work bears its full fruit.
- Cost. The wine He sets aside is social joy. The drink He gives them is His death — separation from sin, and from His bodily presence.
- Remedy. His blood removes the hindrance. The very thing that ends the fellowship is what brings it back.
- Place. "My Father's kingdom" appears only in Matthew. It marks the heavenly side of the coming glory.
- Company. The promise fixes on "with you" — He waits, and He will not have His full joy until He shares it.