The year was 1529, and Martin Luther had gathered together with some others who were pushing away from the Roman Catholic church — but who were also seemingly afraid that Luther hadn’t gone far enough in his reform movement. They were getting together to talk through if they could agree to work together. The person on the other side was a guy named Huldrych Zwingli. The conversation was going pretty well. Out of 15 points, the two had agreed that they shared a common confession in 14 of them – but that 15th was a show stopper.

The 15th point was the point of Lord’s Supper. Zwingli felt that it was “a memorial,” meaning that it was just a recreation of that night that Jesus dined with His disciples before going to the Cross. Zwingli felt it was important, but it didn’t off anything except for memories. Luther disagreed. At one point, Luther pulled up the tablecloth and wrote on the wooden table beneath “Hoc est corpus meum.” This was the Latin translation that appeared in the Bibles of that era where Jesus says of the meal, “This is My Body.” 

The two men continued to discuss, Zwingli refusing to agree with Luther about what was given – Jesus’ own Body for the forgiveness of sins. Lutherans since that day have stood on that table’s confession – this is Jesus’ Body, this is Jesus’ Blood – not because we understand it, not because it makes sense, not because we can identify it under a microscope, but because Jesus says “hoc est corpus meum,” “this is My Body.”

Sometimes, that is what faith looks like – to cling to the words of Jesus against everything else. The world can tell you that you are not forgiven, but Jesus tells you that you are. The world can tell you that there is no afterlife, but Jesus tells you that He has a room prepared for you. The world can tell you that your morality and virtue don’t matter, but Jesus tells you that you are His disciple.

Go forth this week with an assurance like Luther’s. Write something on a table if you must. But remember that Jesus’ word is true.