One day I was talking with my children about Heaven. We spoke about the golden streets and the angels singing. We spoke about meeting Moses and Noah. We spoke about our Caleb meeting the Caleb from the Bible. And our Rachel meeting Rachel, Jacob’s wife. And our Silas meeting the Silas of the New Testament, the one who was in prison with Paul. We spoke about David playing the harp and Grandmama playing the harp. And of course, we talked about food. If you know us, you know we love to eat and have parties. So we began talking about whether we will eat in Heaven and what we will eat.
I told them about references to a marriage feast and a great party in Heaven. They all thought that was a great idea.
“What do you think we will eat in Heaven?” I asked.
Without a moment’s hesitation, my 5-year old Caleb shrugged his shoulders and said, “Bread and grape juice, I guess.”
Obviously he doesn’t get the spiritual significance of his answer. He just assumed that because that’s what we have at church, that’s what God will serve in Heaven. But I have a hunch he is exactly right. We will celebrate Christ’s sacrifice and His great love for us. And we’ll celebrate WITH Him, in His very presence. What sweet communion that will be! True communion.
I went to a Christian college. Every now and then our chapel service would be a communion service. Our chaplain baked bread and filled large goblets with grape juice or wine. There was usually a small crowd in the chapel during that service. I know that’s sort of sad — that fewer students would turn out for a celebration at the Lord’s Table — but I always liked that it felt small and familial. After our chaplain spoke a little, someone would sing or play worship music and we would rise from our seats and file to the front to receive the bread and dip it into the wine. The chaplain or a dean or a professor would serve us.
I remember one particular Tuesday. As I arrived at the front of the chapel, the dean of students held out a piece of bread to me and said, “The body of Christ broken for you, Jennifer.” He called me by name. And suddenly, I could see myself standing before Christ at a great celebration in Heaven as He served me bread and wine and looked me in the eye and said, “My body broken for you and my blood spilled for you, Jennifer.”
Back at my pew, I bowed my head and wept. Christ knows me by name and His sacrifice was personal. He took on the sins of the world, but He took on MY sins. His body was broken for ME. His blood was spilled for ME.
That experience in college changed the way I celebrate the Lord’s Supper. Every time I receive the little wafer of bread and tiny cup of juice in church, I think of that day when our dean of students called me by name. I think of the One Who spoke the universe into existence calling me by name, telling me He suffered on a cross for me, telling me He loves me.
Yes, I agree with Caleb. I think we will have bread and grape juice in Heaven. I think it will be a grand feast celebrating sweet communion with our Lord, bought with His own broken body and spilled blood.