The stark contrast between the gospel’s essence and the mindset of the faithless religious crowd couldn’t be clearer, like night refusing to mingle with day. In the Lord’s Supper, we witness God’s extravagant generosity on full display—He pours out righteousness, healing, wealth, and peace without demanding a dime from us, as if to say, “Watch Me lavish My riches on you, because that’s who I am.” Jesus doesn’t hand us a bill for His broken body or spilled blood; instead, He declares, “This is for you,” echoing the one-way flow from Isaiah 53 where He bears our griefs and carries our pains, swapping our curses for His blessings. The faithless, however, flip this divine script upside down, strutting like peacocks in their self-imposed sufferings, boasting about what they “give” to God as if their meager, self-inflicted sufferings, sicknesses and sacrifices could impress the Almighty. They twist communion into a showcase of their piety—enduring sickness as “God’s will” or poverty as proof of devotion—forgetting that such posturing mocks the cross, where God did all the giving so we could freely receive.

This inversion isn’t just a minor theological hiccup; it’s a worldview war, pitting God’s sovereign supply against man’s arrogant striving. Scripture hammers this home in Romans 5, where God demonstrates His love by dying for us while we were still powerless enemies, not waiting for us to scrape together some spiritual currency. The religious types, peddling their “sacrifices” like vendors at a flea market, essentially claim God needs their input to be glorified, as if the Creator of the universe relies on our loneliness or pain to pad His resume. But Ephesians 2 flips that delusion: We’re saved by grace through faith, not works, so no one can boast—God gets all the glory for the rescue operation. The faithless cling to their “contributions,” finding God “useful” only as a platform for their ego trips, while the gospel invites us to revel in His usefulness to us, paying every bill and piling on blessings. It’s like showing up to a royal banquet and insisting on washing dishes to “earn” your seat—what a comical insult to the King’s hospitality.

Dig deeper, and the contrast exposes a rotten core in the religious facade: They honor God with lips but hearts far from Him, as Jesus quotes Isaiah in Matthew 15, substituting human traditions for divine commands. God’s showing off in communion reminds us we’re recipients, not donors—He enriches us with Abraham’s blessings in Galatians 3, not because we tithe our way to favor, but because Christ redeemed us from the curse. The faithless, meanwhile, parade their “giving” as if suffering rejection or upheaval somehow blesses God, ignoring that He endured those for us so we could enjoy acceptance and peace. This fundamental clash boils down to humility versus hubris: Embrace God’s lavish giving, or cling to your “sacrifices” and miss the feast—after all, who turns down infinite upgrades from the ultimate Provider?

When we gather around the Lord’s table, breaking bread and lifting the cup, it’s not a somber ritual of our meager offerings to Him—it’s a vivid reminder of His boundless giving to us. As I’ve emphasized in my systematic theology, the gospel isn’t a transaction where we scrape together scraps to appease a distant deity; it’s God lavishing His riches on undeserving sinners, making us heirs to blessings that stagger the imagination. Picture it: God, the ultimate showman, orchestrating the cross not just to forgive but to flood us with health, wealth, peace, and power—all sealed in Christ’s blood. Communion verses drive this home, flipping the script on the faithless who twist it into a showcase of human sacrifice. With a wink of divine irony, it’s as if God says, “Watch this,” and unleashes a cascade of goodies we could never earn.

Start with the foundational scene in 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 (NLT): “For I pass on to you what I received from the Lord himself. On the night when he was betrayed, the Lord Jesus took some bread and gave thanks to God for it. Then he broke it in pieces and said, ‘This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ In the same way, he took the cup of wine after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant between God and his people—an agreement confirmed with my blood. Do this in remembrance of me as often as you drink it.’ For every time you eat this bread and drink this cup, you are announcing the Lord’s death until he comes again.” Paul doesn’t frame this as our pious duty to God but as a proclamation of what Christ has done—His body broken and blood spilled as the ultimate act of divine generosity. The focus isn’t on our remembrance as a work we perform; it’s on Christ’s self-giving, activating the new covenant where God pledges to be our God and us His people (Hebrews 8:10). This isn’t mutual back-scratching; it’s God initiating, funding, and fulfilling every promise, from forgiveness to flourishing.

Deductively, if the gospel is rooted in substitutionary atonement—where Christ bears our curses so we inherit His blessings—then communion celebrates this one-way flow from heaven to earth. Isaiah 53:4-5 (NLT) lays it bare: “Yet it was our weaknesses he carried; it was our sorrows that weighed him down… He was beaten so we could be whole. He was whipped so we could be healed.” Here, the prophet doesn’t depict us clambering up to God with offerings; instead, Christ shoulders our infirmities, exchanging His wholeness for our brokenness. Matthew 8:17 applies this directly to physical healing during Jesus’ ministry, confirming it’s no metaphor—Christ’s stripes secure our health as surely as His blood our pardon. Galatians 3:13-14 extends this to the broader Abrahamic blessing: “But Christ has rescued us from the curse pronounced by the law. When he was hung on the cross, he took upon himself the curse for our wrongdoing… Through Christ Jesus, God has blessed the Gentiles with the same blessing he promised to Abraham, so that we who are believers might receive the promised Holy Spirit through faith.” Paul calls this exchange the gospel preached to Abraham—miracles, the Spirit’s power, and prosperity flowing freely, not earned by our sweat but gifted through Christ’s sacrifice. To partake in communion is to affirm this reality: God shows off by supplying what we lack, turning paupers into princes without a dime from our pockets.

Contrast this with the upside-down worldview of the faithless and religious, who peddle a gospel of human striving. They love to parade their sacrifices—enduring sickness as “God’s will,” scraping by in poverty to prove piety, or boasting in loneliness as spiritual badge. But as John 15:16 (NLT) declares, “You didn’t choose me. I chose you. I appointed you to go and produce lasting fruit, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask for, using my name.” Jesus doesn’t summon us to grovel; He appoints us to ask and receive, echoing the Father’s love mirrored in His own. The religious flip this, imagining God delights in our offerings more than His. It’s like showing up to a feast hosted by a billionaire and insisting on washing dishes to “earn” your seat. 1 John 4:10 (NLT) nails it: “This is real love—not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins.” The faithless invert this, making communion a somber tally of their deeds, but Scripture insists it’s God’s showcase: He loved first, gave first, and keeps giving without tally.

Romans 5:6-10 (NLT) amplifies this divine extravagance: “When we were utterly helpless, Christ came at just the right time and died for us sinners. Now, most people would not be willing to die for an upright person, though someone might perhaps be willing to die for a person who is especially good. But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners. And since we have been made right in God’s sight by the blood of Christ, he will certainly save us from God’s condemnation. For since our friendship with God was restored by the death of his Son while we were still his enemies, we will certainly be saved through the life of his Son.” Here, Paul doesn’t spotlight our repentance or works; he spotlights God’s initiative—dying for enemies to make them friends, reconciling while we rebelled. This isn’t quid pro quo; it’s God overwhelming our helplessness with His abundance. In communion, we proclaim this death, not as a dirge for our failings, but as triumph over them—God’s love proven in blood, guaranteeing “how much more” we’ll receive now as reconciled heirs.

Yet, the religious mindset recoils, fearing such grace cheapens holiness. They cling to a theology where suffering showcases their devotion, but 2 Corinthians 8:9 (NLT) dismantles that: “You know the generous grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. Though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty you could become rich.” Paul ties this directly to financial generosity, urging the Corinthians to give from abundance secured by Christ’s impoverishment. It’s not our poverty glorifying God; it’s His supply enabling us to be rich, so that in our wealth we can both be blessed and fund His kingdom. Isaiah 53:5 extends this to peace: “The punishment that brought us peace was on him.” Christ absorbed chaos so we inherit shalom—wholeness in body, mind, and circumstances. Begging for peace amid turmoil mocks this exchange; faith claims it as done. The faithless, by contrast, parade endurance as virtue, but that’s human showing off, not God’s. As if God needs our grit to shine—He’s the star, we’re the beneficiaries.

John 15:9-15 (NLT) weaves love, joy, and answered prayer into this tapestry: “I have loved you even as the Father has loved me. Remain in my love… I have told you these things so that you will be filled with my joy. Yes, your joy will overflow! This is my commandment: Love each other in the same way I have loved you. There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command… You didn’t choose me. I chose you. I appointed you to go and produce lasting fruit, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask for, using my name.” Jesus doesn’t demand we earn His love; He pours it out, commanding us to abide in it for overflowing joy. Friendship with God isn’t forged by our sacrifices but His—laying down life for us. The fruit? Answered prayers, not as reward for our efforts but as evidence of His choosing. Communion echoes this: We remember His laying down, not ours, receiving joy and provision as appointed heirs.

In 2 Corinthians 5:14-21 (NLT), Paul underscores reconciliation as God’s initiative: “For the love of Christ controls us… And he died for all, so that we who receive God’s new life will no longer live for ourselves. Instead, we will live for Christ… This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun! And all of this is a gift from God, who brought us back to himself through Christ… For God made Christ, who never sinned, to be the offering for our sin, so that we could be made right with God through Christ.” The new creation isn’t our makeover project; it’s God’s gift, swapping our sin for His righteousness. No room for self-flagellation here—God reconciled the world to Himself, not counting sins against us. Communion proclaims this death, celebrating the swap that makes us whole, not wallowing in what’s already buried.

Leviticus 26:6-12 (NLT) foreshadows this in covenant language: “I will give you peace in the land, and you will be able to sleep with no cause for fear… I will look favorably upon you, making you fertile and multiplying your people. And I will fulfill my covenant with you… I will walk among you; I will be your God, and you will be my people.” God doesn’t promise peace as our achievement; He grants it, fulfilling His covenant through Christ. The faithless invert this, enduring fear as spiritual discipline, but that’s demonic sleight-of-hand. God is showing off peace now.

Hebrews 9-10 ties it to Christ’s once-for-all sacrifice: “Under the old covenant, the priest stands and ministers before the altar day after day, offering the same sacrifices again and again, which can never take away sins. But our High Priest offered himself to God as a single sacrifice for sins, good for all time. Then he sat down in the place of honor at God’s right hand… For by that one offering he forever made perfect those who are being made holy” (Hebrews 10:11-14 NLT). No endless striving—Christ’s offering perfects us, activating the new covenant where God writes laws on hearts and remembers sins no more. Communion isn’t reliving guilt; it’s rejoicing in perfection already secured.

In conclusion, communion verses paint the gospel as God’s grand spectacle of giving—righteousness, healing, wealth, peace—all flowing from Christ’s cross to us. The religious, with their self-showcasing sacrifices, peddle a counterfeit, but Scripture demands we receive boldly, glorifying God by enjoying His bounty. As Romans 5:11 (NLT) sums it: “So now we can rejoice in our wonderful new relationship with God because our Lord Jesus Christ has made us friends of God.” God shows off by friending enemies. Lift the cup, break the bread, and revel in His generosity. After all, who turns down a divine upgrade?

Communion Verses

Below is a common list of verses I go over before communion.

(1 Corinthians 11)
For I received from the Lord what I also passed on to you: The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread,  and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, 

“This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me.”

 In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, 

“This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.” 

 For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.

 (John 15)
If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you want and it will be done for you. 

 “Just as the Father has loved me, I also have loved you. … I have spoken these things to you in order that my joy may be in you, and your joy may be made complete. …  No one has greater love than this: that someone lay down his life for his friends.  You are my friends…
 You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit, and your fruit should remain, in order that whatever you ask the Father in my name he will give you.

(John 4)
 In this is love: not that we have loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.

  
And we have come to know and have believed the love that God has in us. God is love, and the one who resides in love resides in God, and God resides in him.  

By this love is perfected with us, so that we may have confidence in the day of judgment, because just as that one is, so also are we in this world.  There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear..

(Romans 5)
You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God’s wrath through him!  For if, while we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life! 

(1 Corinthians 1)
Therefore does the one who gives you the Spirit and who works miracles among you do so by the works of the law, or by the hearing of faith?

 Just as Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him for righteousness,  then understand that the ones who have faith[a], these are sons of Abraham. And the scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, proclaimed the good news in advance to Abraham: “In you all the nations will be blessed.” So then, the ones who have faith are blessed together with Abraham who believed…

Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us, because it is written, “Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree,” in order that the blessing of Abraham might come to the Gentiles in Christ Jesus, so that we might receive the promise of the Spirit through faith.

 But of Him you are in Christ Jesus, who became for us wisdom from God—and righteousness and sanctification and redemption— that, as it is written, “He who glories, let him glory in the Lord.

(Isaiah 53) 
Surely He has borne our griefs (sicknesses, weaknesses, and distresses) and carried our sorrows and pains [of punishment], yet we [ignorantly] considered Him stricken, smitten, and afflicted by God [as if with leprosy].But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our guilt and iniquities; the chastisement [needful to obtain] peace and well-being for us was upon Him, and with the stripes [that wounded] Him we are healed and made whole.

For He shall bear [the responsibility for] their sins.

Yet He Himself bore and took away the sin of many,
And interceded [with the Father] for the transgressors.

(Isaiah 54)
If anyone attacks you, it’s none of my doing.
    Whoever attacks you will fall because of you.

 No weapon fashioned against you will succeed,
    and you may condemn every tongue that disputes with you.
This is the inheritance of the Lord’s servants,
    whose righteousness comes from me.

(Hebrews 9-10)
For by the power of the eternal Spirit, Christ offered himself to God as a perfect sacrifice for our sins. 

The will goes into effect only after the person’s death.

Then he said, “This blood confirms the covenant God has made with you.”

If they could have provided perfect cleansing, the sacrifices would have stopped, for the worshipers would have been purified once for all time, and their feelings of guilt would have disappeared.

(Hebrews 10)
But this is the new covenant I will make
    
I will put my laws in their minds,
    and I will write them on their hearts.
I will be their God,
    and they will be my people…’
For everyone, will already know me.
 And I will forgive their wickedness,
    and I will never again remember their sins.”

But our High Priest offered himself to God as a single sacrifice for sins, good for all time.
Then he sat down in the place of honor at God’s right hand. 
There he waits until his enemies are humbled and made a footstool under his feet. 
For by that one offering he forever made perfect those who are being made holy.

(2 Corinthians 5)
And he died for all, in order that those who live should no longer live for themselves, but for the one who died for them and was raised.

So then, from now on we know no one from a human point of view, if indeed we have known Christ from a human point of view, but now we know him this way no longer.  

Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old things have passed away; behold, new things have come.  

And all these things are from God, who has reconciled us to himself through Christ, …God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, …

  He made the one who did not know sin to be sin on our behalf, in order that we could become the righteousness of God in him.

 (2  Corinthians 8-9)
For you are recognizing [more clearly] the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ [His astonishing kindness, His generosity, His gracious favor], that though He was rich, yet for your sake He became poor, so that by His poverty you might become rich (abundantly blessed).  
And God is able to make all grace [every favor and earthly blessing] come in abundance to you, so that you may always [under all circumstances, regardless of the need] have complete sufficiency in everything [being completely self-sufficient in Him], and have an abundance for every good work and act of charity.

(Levitus 26)
“‘I will grant peace in the land, and you will lie down and no one will make you afraid. I will remove wild beasts from the land, and the sword will not pass through your country. You will pursue your enemies, and they will fall by the sword before you. Five of you will chase a hundred, and a hundred of you will chase ten thousand, and your enemies will fall by the sword before you.

“‘I will look on you with favor and make you fruitful and increase your numbers, and I will keep my covenant with you. You will still be eating last year’s harvest when you will have to move it out to make room for the new. I will put my dwelling place among you, and I will not abhor you.  I will walk among you and be your God, and you will be my people.  I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt so that you would no longer be slaves to the Egyptians; I broke the bars of your yoke and enabled you to walk with heads held high.