The Old Testament and the Eucharist

            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.