Sometimes I find myself in a line-up with a bunch of strangers, shuffling down the aisle in church, and I forget that I am standing with my family on the pathway to heaven about to partake of the body and blood of Christ offered once for all time for the salvation of the world. Perhaps you have walked down that aisle with me?

The sacrificial nature of the Eucharist is clear from Jesus’ words and actions at the Last Supper, but hearing the words of institution over and over can become a part of a rote behavior that obscures their live-giving meaning. In the words of Mark’s Gospel, “While they were eating, he took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to them, and said, ‘Take; this is my body.’ Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he gave it to them, and all of them drank from it. He said to them, ‘This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many.’”

The primary sacrificial context for the Last Supper comes from the Passover feast in which the meal is situated, but the offering of Jesus’ body and blood on behalf of the “many”—that is, for all people—takes on and reinterprets much more of the sacrificial imagery of the Old Testament. The bread that he broke is a sign of his body, which he will offer in death, the true bread of the presence. The “blood of the covenant” shares in the imagery of the ceremony in Exodus in which Moses sprinkled blood on the people of Israel as a sign of their obedience to the covenant. The phrase “poured out for many” draws us inexorably to the Suffering Servant of Is 53:12, who pours himself out as an expiation for the sins of the people.

These sacrificial realities are not alien to the Last Supper. They are an inherent part of Jesus’ actions, which he interprets for his apostles prior to the crucifixion. But for these understandings to come to the fore, the first Christians had to meditate and reflect on what Jesus had done and what this meant for the continuing life of the church.

The author of the Letter to the Hebrews makes it his mission to explicate and explain what took place on Calvary in light of the Jewish sacrificial system. First, Hebrews explains that Jesus is not only the sacrifice for the sins of the world but also the perfect high priest. Second, the perfect high priest “entered once for all into the Holy Place, not with the blood of goats and calves, but with his own blood, thus obtaining eternal redemption.” Third, through the offering of himself as the perfect sacrifice, Jesus “is the mediator of a new covenant, so that those who are called may receive the promised eternal inheritance.”

Joachim Jeremias wrote in Eucharistic Words, “If, immediately following his words on the bread and immediately following his words on the wine, Jesus gives the same bread and the same wine to his disciples, this act signifies his giving them a share, by their eating and drinking, in the atoning power of his death.” And that atoning power has as its goal eternal life with Jesus. But it was not just those who sat at the table with Jesus and ate bread and drank wine with him who are able to share in the atoning power of Jesus’ sacrifice; Jesus opened the way for all to share in the eternal inheritance.

The Eucharist fulfills the sacrificial system and gives us the ability to share in the power of Christ’s atoning death here and now, but it also prepares us for our eternal inheritance. With the rest of God’s family, we will share in the Messianic banquet. Jesus tells us “many will come from east and west and will eat with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 8:11). Only the true bread of heaven, the perfect high priest, could offer himself once for all and so pave the way for our entry into the Temple made not with hands. So walk with joy toward the Temple prepared for us for eternity, as you are about to share a foretaste of the unending banquet.

This article appears in May 25-June 1 2015.

John W. Martens is an associate professor of theology at the University of St. Thomas, St. Paul, Minn,where he teaches early Christianity and Judaism. He also directs the Master of Arts in Theology program at the St. Paul Seminary School of Divinity. He was born in Vancouver, B.C. into a Mennonite family that had decided to confront modernity in an urban setting. His post-secondary education began at Tabor College, Hillsboro, Kansas, came to an abrupt stop, then started again at Vancouver Community College, where his interest in Judaism and Christianity in the earliest centuries emerged. He then studied at St. Michael's College, University of Toronto, and McMaster University, with stops at University of Haifa and University of Tubingen. His writing often explores the intersection of Jewish, Christian and Greco-Roman culture and belief, such as in "let the little children come to me: Children and Childhood in Early Christianity" (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 2009), but he is not beyond jumping into the intersection of modernity and ancient religion, as in "The End of the World: The Apocalyptic Imagination in Film and Television" (Winnipeg: J. Gordon Shillingford Press, 2003). He blogs at  www.biblejunkies.com and at www.americamagazine.org for "The Good Word." You can follow him on Twitter @biblejunkies, where he would be excited to welcome you to his random and obscure interests, which range from the Vancouver Canucks and Minnesota Timberwolves, to his dog, and 70s punk, pop and rock. When he can, he brings students to Greece, Turkey and Rome to explore the artifacts and landscape of the ancient world. He lives in St. Paul with his wife and has two sons. He is certain that the world will not end until the Vancouver Canucks have won the Stanley Cup, as evidence has emerged from the Revelation of John, 1 Enoch, 2 Baruch, and 4 Ezra which all point in this direction.