“The Cup of Salvation”
Original sermon given on Maundy Thursday, April 17, 2025 written and delivered by Pastor Jeff Leininger at First Saint Paul’s Lutheran Church.
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“The Cup of Salvation”
Psalm 116.1-2, 9-16
Psalm 116.1-2, 9-16
In the name of the Living God and the crucified Christ. Amen.
“I will take the cup of salvation and will call upon the name of the Lord,” the Psalmist writes, and so we have sung this evening. But we are of course not the only ones ever to have sung it. Psalm 116 is part of the Egyptian Hallel (113-118 in the Psalms), which have been used for millennia as part of the Passover liturgy for the Jewish people. Although cast in the first person, the “I” in “I loved the Lord because he has heard the voice of my supplication” and the “me” in “the grip of the grave took hold of me,” are meant to be both individual and corporate. The whole nation sang this hymn as they reflected how God delivered them from Pharoah’s yoke, made a covenant with them in the wilderness, forgave them through sacrificial blood, and promised to stay with them on their journey to the very end.
Jesus sang it too — at least we can be almost certain of this. St. Matthew, who was there that night at the Last Supper, records that at the conclusion of the Passover meal, “after they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mt. of Olives” (Matt. 26.30). It’s likely that this “hymn” — Hebrew translations insert either “Psalm” or “Hallel” instead of “hymn” — it’s likely this very Psalm 116 was the one sung and prayed by the Lord Jesus on that very night.
When I first learned this a number of years ago, I was quite moved and read through the whole Hallel trying to see it through the eyes of Jesus — or rather, through the voice of Jesus, who sang this very song and prayed this very prayer. (If you’re looking for a spiritual exercise to do on Maundy Thursday, read Psalms 113-118 and ask yourself what Jesus may have been thinking as he spoke these words).
Jesus surely prayed the Hallel as both a looking back at the first Passover — God’s deliverance at the Exodus — but also a looking ahead to the next a few hours when he would establish the “New Covenant.” How moving, the imagery of Jesus singing as he prepares to do what he knew he must do: “The cords of death entangle me; the grip of the grave took hold of me; grief and sorrow press upon me” (116.3). One commentator noted that in Old Testament poetry, death and Sheol are aggressive, never passive agents, “clutching at the living to waste them in sickness or crush them with despondency…”[1]
Any of us who have ever been near the point of death or have struggled with a disease or debilitating illness or have cared for a loved one in their last days know this is true. We say, “she’s battling cancer” or “he fought until the end” or “it feels so overwhelming, like I’m getting pulled under” — we say these things for a reason. Death is no mere passive happening, but an enemy force to be reckoned with, as were the ancient armies of Pharoah. Jesus must have known this as he read Psalm116 and prepared for the final battle which would deliver death to death.
But Psalm 116 — and the entire Hallel — is in the end a celebratory song of deliverance. Jesus must have known this too. The Passover observance, which they observed in that upper room, had layers of meaning, but in essence was intended to do three things, as is our “taking the cup of salvation” tonight. It was a remembrance, a receiving, and a response.
Remembrance
This evening’s reading from Exodus 12 records God’s instructions to them: “This day shall be a day of remembrance for you. You shall celebrate it as a festival to the Lord; throughout your generations you shall observe it as perpetual ordinance” (Ex. 12.14). In a sense, they would be reenacting that initial saving event every year: God’s deliverance over the grip of Pharoah, his covenant with them, and his promise to be with them, engrained in their memories through what they ate, what they wore, where they sat, what they said, including the words of Psalm 116.
We also remember tonight, and in a way “reenact,” Christ’s New Covenant Passover with his disciples. He’s told us: “Do this, in remembrance of me.” All we do tonight points to Jesus. As we take the cup of salvation, we recall that he took it first, as he prepared to shed his blood. That cup of salvation included all that he would do for us: the sweat like drops of blood, the crown of thorns, the lashes on his back, the nails in his hands and feet. We remember this tonight… remember him, and all he’s done for us.
Receiving
But the perpetual Passover observances for the Jewish people were far more than mere recollection, more than a going through the motions in empty repetition. In a real way, the Lord would come to them anew every Passover: his presence made real to them, his promises renewed. They weren’t just “doing something for God,” but He was doing something for them.
Tonight, in this sacred meal, God comes to us. We receive again (and again and again) all that he has to give: forgiveness, life, salvation, and his very self. Christ said, “This is my body, this is my blood.” St. Paul confessed it, exhorting us to discern his presence in “the body and blood.” To make the Lord’s Supper primarily about what we do would be like the Jews taking credit for their own rescue from Egypt. No, tonight we receive once more the deliverance won for us on Calvary when we “take the cup of Salvation.”
Response
But we do respond. After the remembrance and the receiving, they responded by a renewed faith, renewed vows, and renewed thanksgiving and praise. How could they not? After remembering his great deeds and receiving his great presence, an eruption of joy could not but fill their hearts. The cup of salvation was also a thanksgiving offering, vow renewal ceremony, a celebration meal, a “Eucharist” as we call it.
So tonight, we too take the cup, give thanks, and renew our vows. It is a vow to “trust God explicitly and worship him exclusively.”[2] It is a vow to bind ourselves only to him who has bound himself to us in his shed blood. It is a vow to live a life of thanking, praising, serving, and obeying him, as Martin Luther has it in the catechism.
A cup is offered here this evening. Take the cup of salvation and know that this Holy Meal is all the more beautiful and powerful in its layered meaning, as was the observance of the Passover. We remember what our Lord has done and his love for us. We receive him again, as he has promised to be present under these humble forms of bread and wine. And we respond: to him belongs all our thanksgiving and praise, now, at the time of our death, and even forevermore.
Come soon Lord Jesus. Amen.
[1] Kidner, Psalms, 408
[2] Ibid.