The Old Testament might seem like a strange place to
encounter the Eucharist. But Christ’s Passion was not an afterthought.
Salvation history may be a much longer road than that to Golgotha, but both
lead inexorably to the Cross.
Sometimes
we make the mistake of discarding the Old Testament as if it was a relic of the
past, only meaningful to Judaism, and nullified by the New Testament. Nothing
could be further from the truth. The Old Testament remains divinely inspired and
is immensely relevant to our faith today.
We should
not be surprised therefore to find that parts of the Old Testament prepare us
for the Eucharist. In Verbum Domini,
Pope Benedict XVI writes, “God’s plan is manifested progressively and it is
accomplished slowly, in successive stages despite human resistance.” St. Paul
wrote to the Corinthians, “I gave you milk to drink, not meat: for you were not
able as yet” (1 Cor. 3:2). The Old Testament’s prefiguring of the Eucharist is
the “milk” fed to children before they are mature enough to eat the “meat,” the
Body and Blood of Jesus Christ.
Four parts of the Old Testament that lead us
to the Eucharist are: the priesthood of Melchisedech, the near-sacrifice of
Isaac, the Paschal Lamb, and the Paschal cups.
We read in
Genesis chapter 14 that after Abraham rescues Lot from the four kings, a
mysterious priest appears. His name is Melchisedech. He is “the priest of the
most high God” (Gen. 14:18) and the king of Salem. Melchisedech blesses Abraham
after his victory. What is significant is not that he blesses Abraham, but how
he does so. Melchisedech comes “bringing forth bread and wine” (14:19). Does
that sound familiar? It should. Melchisedech’s blessing of the bread and wine
foreshadows Christ instituting the Eucharist by blessing bread and wine during
the Last Supper. That is why Hebrews 7:17 says (Thou art a priest forever
according to the order of Melchisedech.”
We all know
the story of Abraham’s near-sacrifice of his son, Isaac, on Mount Moriah (see
Genesis 22:1-14). As familiar as the account is, however, we often miss details
that point towards the future sacrifice of Christ.
Isaac is Abraham’s only son by
Sarah, the one in whom the Lord said, “shall thy seed be called” (21:12). In
Isaac rests the covenant between God and Abraham that the former would be a
father of many nations” (17:4). Similarly, Christ is the only-begotten Son of
God. He is also the key to a covenant, but in a different way. While Isaac
would fulfill the Lord’s covenant with Abraham through living and producing
offspring, Christ fulfills the new covenant in His sacrifice on the Cross: “This
is the chalice, the new testament in my blood, which shall be shed for you”
(Luke 22:20). Both Isaac and Christ carry wood up a mountain. Isaac carries the
wood upon which he would have been immolated while Christ carries His Cross
upon which He is crucified. We know that Christ is a willing victim. Is Isaac?
While Isaac never vocally consents
to his sacrifice in the Genesis account, we have good reason to believe that he
was not bound unwillingly. At the time Isaac was born, Abraham was a hundred
years old. Far from being a helpless infant (perhaps the only person a
centenarian would be capable of overpowering), Isaac is strong enough to carry
the bundle of wood up the mountain. It is reasonable to believe that Isaac
would have been able to resist his elderly father. The fact that he did not do
so means that he probably expected, like Abraham, that God would provide a
victim to take his place.
And so God does. The angel of the
Lord tells Abraham to stay his hand, and Abraham sees a ram stuck in the
briars. Here, the comparison shifts, and it is the ram that represents Christ.
The ram is stuck, thorny briars around its head. This image reminds us of the
crown of thorns worn by Christ.
More importantly, the ram is
sacrificed in Isaac’s place. The ram saves Isaac from certain death just like
Christ who saves humanity from the death of the spirit that comes from sin.
God provides a victim to die
instead of Isaac. Abraham accordingly renames Mount Moriah “the Lord will
provide” (Gen. 22:14). Traditionally, it is held that the name of Jerusalem
comes from Abraham’s renaming of Moriah. Jira
is Hebrew for “to provide;” thus Salem, the land of Melchisedech, becomes
Jerusalem (Hahn, Scott. A Father Who Keeps
His Promises. 108). A ram was provided for Isaac in roughly the same area
the Son of God would be provided for His people. The Eucharist is a fulfillment
of the sacrifice foreshadowed by Abraham’s actions on Mount Moriah.
Parallels
can also be seen between the Paschal Lamb and the Eucharist. The Paschal Lamb
is the sacrificial offering mandated for the Passover meal. There is a reason
we call Christ the Lamb of God. Following the Lord’s commands, Moses first directed
the Israelites to sacrifice a lamb so that they might be saved from the final
plague to afflict the Egyptians: the death of the firstborns. Afterwards, the
Passover meal was a remembrance of their deliverance from slavery.
Very specific instructions were
given as to the lamb. It had to be “without blemish, a male a year old” (Exod.
12:5). Jesus is, of course, without sin and a man. As I said, the lamb was
sacrificed to save the Israelites: “the blood [of the lamb] shall be a sign for
you, upon the houses where you are; and when I see the blood, I will pass over
you, when I smite the land of Egypt” (12:17). In the same way, it is the blood
of Christ that saves us from the damnation merited by our sins.
Now, Moses says, “therefore you
shall observe this day, throughout your generations, as an ordinance for ever”
(12:17). But we as Christians don’t celebrate the Passover described in Exodus.
Does this mean we don’t follow the word of God delivered through Moses?
Christ says, “Think not that I have
come to abolish the law and the prophets; I have come not to abolish them but
to fulfill them” (Matt. 5:17). Just as the Old Testament is fulfilled in the
New, the Passover sacrifice is fulfilled in the new sacrifice of the Mass.
Therefore (at least, hopefully) every Sunday we fulfill the ordinance of Moses
to remember the Passover.
The connection between the Passover
and the Eucharist is further shown by the Paschal cups. There are four cups of
wine ceremonially consumed during the Passover meal: the cups of
Sanctification, Deliverance, Blessing, and Praise. After the meal was finished,
when the last cup had been consumed, the father would say, “Tel telesti” which means, “It is
finished.”
There
is general agreement among biblical scholars that during the Last Supper, a
Passover meal, Jesus and His disciples only drank three of the paschal cups
leaving the cup of Praise unconsumed, the meal unfinished (Hahn 229).
Jesus acknowledges this omission
saying, “I will not drink the fruit of the vine till the kingdom of God come”
(Luke 22:18). During the Agony of the Garden, Jesus speaks of a cup: “Abba,
Father, all things are possible to thee; remove this cup from me; yet not what
I will, but what thou wilt” (Mark 14:36). This “cup” isn’t just a metaphor for
Christ’s suffering on the Cross. John’s Gospel tells us that towards the end of
the Passion, Jesus says, “I thirst” (John 19:28). Using a hyssop branch (the
same kind of wood used to sprinkle the blood of the Paschal Lamb according to
Exod. 12:22), someone offers Him a sponge soaked with vinegar. After drinking,
Christ says, “It is finished.” Tel telesti.
What He “finished” is the Passover
of the Last Supper meal. The vinegar in the sponge constitutes the fourth and
final cup of the Passover. Jesus deliberately prolongs the Last Supper meal to
include His Passion. This shows us the sacrificial nature of the Eucharist.
Jesus blessing the bread and wine of the Last Supper, transforming them into
His Body and Blood, is directly linked to the sacrifice of that Body and Blood
on the Cross.
The links between the Eucharist and
the Old Testament are important, not just because they illustrate how as St.
Augustine wrote, “The New Testament lies hidden in the Old and the Old
Testament is unveiled in the New,” but they help us to better understand the
great gift of the Eucharist.
The Mass is neither a mere
remembrance of the Last Supper nor a “re-crucifying” of Christ. Rather, it is a
participation in the timeless sacrifice of Christ on the Cross. This sacrifice
was prefigured throughout the Old Testament as God prepared His people for the
saving power of His Son.
Melchisedech suggests a new
blessing through bread and wine. Abraham’s near sacrifice of Isaac helps us to
understand how God provided Himself as a sacrificial victim in our place. The
Paschal Lamb connects the deliverance of the Israelites from slavery to the
Egyptians to our deliverance from slavery to sin. The Paschal cups show us how
Christ fulfills the Old Testament with His Passion and death and gives us new
life in His New Covenant.
While reflecting on the Eucharist,
we must recognize that it is a difficult teaching for some. Our materialistic
culture has developed an aversion to the supernatural. It looks at the
consecrated Host and only sees an unleavened wafer. That’s the thing about the
Eucharist. Even though we might have very good reasons to believe in the True
Presence, like the Bread of Life discourse (John 6) and the Eucharistic imagery
of the Old Testament, at the end of the day all we can do is believe. St.
Thomas Aquinas aptly wrote, “faith supplies where senses fail.” We are, you
might say, forced to have a humble faith in the Eucharist, because if we were to
rely solely on ourselves, we too would only see bread.
The bottom line is: resting in the
tabernacle, made present in the Mass, is the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity
of Jesus Christ, the Lord of the Universe. So when you genuflect before
entering your pew or kneel during the Eucharistic consecration, you’re not just
fulfilling some liturgical requirement or performing a rote action, you are
humbling yourself before God himself.
Blessed be Jesus in the most Holy Sacrament of the altar.
