If the Lord’s Supper is a remembrance of the past and a communion in the present, it is also something more—it is a foretaste of the future.
Every time the church gathers at the Lord’s Table, we are not only remembering what Jesus has done and experiencing His presence with us now—we are also looking forward to what He has promised to do. The Eucharist is an act of hope, a meal that points beyond itself to the great banquet awaiting us in the kingdom of God.
In this post, we’ll explore how the Eucharist connects us to eschatology—the doctrine of the last things—and how it feeds our longing for Christ’s return.
“Until He Comes”: The Forward-Looking Nature of Communion
In 1 Corinthians 11:26, Paul writes:
“For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.”
This small phrase—“until he comes”—is packed with meaning. It reminds us that every celebration of the Lord’s Supper is temporary. It is an interim meal, situated between two great acts: Christ’s death on the cross and His return in glory.
We eat in memory of the cross, but we also eat with anticipation of the coming kingdom. The table is not the final feast—it’s the appetizer. The real banquet is yet to come.
The Marriage Supper of the Lamb
In Revelation 19:6–9, we are given a vision of the end of the age—a heavenly celebration described as the “marriage supper of the Lamb.”
“Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.” —Revelation 19:9
This is the ultimate fulfillment of what the Eucharist points to: the joyful, unending fellowship between Christ and His people. The Lord’s Supper is a shadow of that future reality. Every time we eat the bread and drink the cup, we’re getting a glimpse of glory.
The Eucharist, then, is not just a backward glance to Good Friday. It is a forward-looking celebration of what God will do when He makes all things new.
Echoes of the Prophets and the Kingdom
Jesus Himself spoke of a coming feast in the kingdom of God. At the Last Supper, He told His disciples:
“I tell you, I will not drink again of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.” —Mark 14:25
This echoes prophetic visions from Isaiah 25, where the Lord prepares a feast “for all peoples,” and death is swallowed up forever.
In celebrating the Eucharist, we are saying: “We believe that day is coming.”
We believe that Jesus will return.
We believe that death will be no more.
We believe that the church will feast with Christ in the fullness of joy.
Worship as Participation in Heavenly Reality
In a very real sense, the church’s worship is not just earthly—it is heavenly. The Book of Hebrews says that in Christ, we have already come to the “heavenly Jerusalem,” to the assembly of saints and angels (Hebrews 12:22–24).
When we gather at the Table, we are not just reenacting something. We are participating in a mystery that transcends time and space. The Eucharist is a meeting point between heaven and earth—a taste of eternity in the middle of our week.
This means that every communion service is both solemn and celebratory. We eat with reverence, because we remember the cross. But we also eat with joy, because we know how the story ends.
Eucharistic Living: Hope Made Visible
The Eucharist teaches us how to live with holy expectancy. In a world of brokenness, division, and death, the bread and wine declare a better future. They remind us that resurrection is coming, that justice will prevail, and that Christ will wipe away every tear.
To receive communion is to say, “Come, Lord Jesus.”
To eat the bread is to hunger for the day when hunger is no more.
To drink the cup is to thirst for the day when the wine of joy never runs dry.
Conclusion: A Meal That Points Us Forward
So why does the Eucharist matter for our eschatology?
Because it roots our hope in something tangible.
Because it connects the cross to the crown.
Because it reminds us that the church is not a people in retreat, but a people in waiting.
We gather every Sunday not just to remember the past, but to rehearse the future. The Table is not the end of the story—it’s the reminder that the best is yet to come.
So next time you take the bread and the cup, lift your eyes. You’re not just remembering a crucified King—you’re anticipating a returning one.
