"As often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord's death till he come" (1 Cor. 11:26).

      When the great apostle declared, "As often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord's death till he come," he was not speaking an idle word nor sounding a solitary note, but was in perfect accord with the meaning and mission of every spiritual force and every holy institution in the wide universe of God, and was contributing a prominent part in the spiritual symphony of heaven.

      Likewise, our brethren have not followed fables nor gone in the way of needless contention when for a hundred years they have insisted upon the prominence and vital importance of the Lord's Supper, and have with Christian positiveness refused to have it, with their consent, given an inferior place among all the institutions of God or men. In fellowship with every other holy enterprise, this institution has, in a large measure, furthered the divine plan of having all men to know the Christ and the unsearchable riches of his love. In its observance he himself is brought to view; not as some cold and unresponding phantom, but as the High Priest of the soul whose heart of sympathy can be touched with a feeling of our infirmities, and through whom the soul can appear before the mercy-seat of God. This, then, is why for these many years on every first day of the week this ordinance has been observed in our [458] churches as the chief purpose of our assembling. Surely this is reason enough for all whose hearts are enlisted in the ways of God and who desire to have truth, holiness and love fill the earth with their golden light.

      Yet I would not urge this one feature of its importance to the exclusion of others, for there are many reasons why this ordinance merits the prominence we have given it. It is the sign and pledge of the new covenant, an abiding token of divine fidelity. It preserves the memory of the Lord, and the church has no more precious possession than the memory of Jesus. "This do in remembrance of me." You have seen the drifting snowstorm when the air was filled with flying flakes which hid the landscape and the sky: so the fluttering cares and flying sins and pleasures of life often obscure the Christ and surround the soul in a cloud and chill of forgetfulness. Then came the day and the hour of this holy service, and before the enraptured heart stands "Jesus only." All these drifting influences melt away, and the memory of the soul is renewed. Another value of this institution is that it is a spiritual communion. Through this bread and wine the inner life of the believer is nourished and made strong. He reaches back through the intervening centuries and touches the wounded side and bleeding heart of his Lord. Indeed, in his soul's deepest consciousness he realizes the very presence of his Redeemer, and in this secret, silent place sacredly communes with his Lord. He thinks, meditates upon and feels the truth and life of the Christ and becomes partaker of his divine principles and character. The divine presence is made an actual experience with the worshiping soul. In this service the inner life acquires a new strength and a new righteousness by the inmoving presence of a higher being, and every faculty of the soul is enriched by a new affection.

      I have chosen to emphasize somewhat only its value as a means of manifesting the Lord to the world. And, reverting to the text, a further unfolding of this thought is observed. "As often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord's death." In these days when men, are reasoning themselves away from the cross, it is well to emphasize as strongly and as often as possible this feature of the gospel's affairs. Jesus was at all points of his career unspeakably great, but never more great than when for sinful humanity he yielded himself in heroic abandon upon the cross. "All that was most human, and all that was most divine, all that was tenderest, and all that was strongest, shone from his face in his death." This is the very heart of his religion. Those who hold theories of the gospel that undervalue the death of Christ, have no need nor place for the Lord's Supper. To them it is a meaningless form that may be seldom observed, given a remote place in the service of the church, or abandoned altogether. But to those who see in the death of the Christ the hope of salvation, the cross of Jesus will ever be the most potential force in the world's life.

      The cross of our Saviour is the

W. H. SHEFFER.

profoundest of all interpretations of the malignity and enormity of sin. The world had seen sin's foul touch wither the flowering glory of Eden, besmear innocence with the slime of guilt, change the voice of God, once sweet with the melody of peace, into an instrument of terror, and turn God's first human creatures out into a world of thorns. The smoke of Sodom has flung its shadows athwart the centuries and told the tale of a people stupefied under the spell of sin, and of a city whose putrefying iniquity became such a stench in the nostrils of the righteous God that love, made hopeless by their plight, gave place to wrath, and on a stage of raining fire was enacted the tragedy of sin and death. But in none nor all of these did the world learn the real depth and power of sin. It saw only the wicked justly punished for their own sins, reaping what their own hands had sown. Not until the sinless One--human enough to die, divine enough to be [459] a sacrifice for man--is brought to the cross and suffers death for others, the innocent for the guilty, the divine for the human, could the world obtain an adequate consciousness of the real enormity of sin or understand the strength of its hold upon the human heart. Not only has the cross shown the fearful power and terror of sin, but it has revealed to our transgressing race the only way of escape. Its sturdy arms alone are able to save mankind from the guilt and the love of sin. The cry of joy and gratitude that came from the redeemed apostle has been echoed by the saints through all the years: "God forbid that I should glory save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ."

      Furthermore, the world has never seen so deep nor so true a

C. MCPHERSON.

demonstration of love as that reflected from the cross where Jesus died. The pathos of Jacob's broken life in the loss of his son has touched the hearts of many generations as in sackcloth he sits in the shadow of a great sorrow, born out of the sunshine of a great love. He was devoted to Joseph with a consuming passion and listened to his youthful dreams, unwelcome to others, with an eager and tireless heart. And now that his son is lost to him, the old man's ambition turns to ashes of despair and his vision of love to a nightmare of woe. David's cry for Absalom, though a selfish and rebellious son, sounds the depths of a father's heart and tells a story of entrancing interest, because it reveals a love as beautiful as it is profound. But all these expressions of love are marked by limitations and marred by human weakness. The cross stands alone and unapproached in the unselfish greatness, the universal sweep, and the divine values of its love. "God commendeth his love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." Humanity had sinned away its righteousness and cast the precepts and pleadings of God like pearls before the swineherds of sin. Mankind had not only condemned the Christ when guiltless, scourged him unresisting, in mockery crowned him with thorns and crucified him without a cause, but like gloating demons taunted him in the very presence of his agony and spat the venom of their wrath in the face of God. Yet the love of the cross threw itself in their pathway to arrest by its gentleness and to rescue by its strength the sin-mad multitudes, who, Balaam-like, were rushing over every divine importunity to death and doom. Out of the midst of that storm of defiant hate, that beat in coarse and cruel power against the cross, there came a prayer that has been heard above the roar and raging of sin's tumult, and has at last moved many hearts to tears and penitence: "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do." Is all this worth remembering? Is there any value of communion here? Is the first day of every week too often to bring these divine verities before the heart? Is this worthy to be shown through all ages and to all peoples? "As often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord's death."

      Yet there remains one other thought in our text of which we may profitably think at this time. It bears the message of faithfulness, and exhorts us to with patience await the final coming of the Lord. "As often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord's death till he come." The Supper of the Lord unites the worshiping heart with the Christ through all the years of the Christian era; with the past, for it is in remembrance of him; with the present, for it is a communion with him; and with a seer's vision it looks into the future and holds the heart in a grasp of love "till he come;" till the time when the sky shall be ablaze with his presence and the heavens vocal once more with angel choirs, when those we've loved shall rejoin us in a world of peace.

      But until that time shall come he exhorts us to be faithful, to not forsake the assembling of ourselves, to not neglect his holy Supper, and to be ever busy with the tasks of love among the sinful and the needy for whom he died [460] and whom he loves so much. Indeed, upon our fidelity through the waiting years depends our right to partake of his joys and share with him eternal life.

      For a long time in the home of Eugene Field, the poet laureate of child life, stood undisturbed a little chair and on it some simple toys. Concerning this pathetic scene he wrote one of his most interesting poems:

      "As often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord's death till he come."

[CCR 458-461]