Commentary - Luke 22:14-23

Bird's-eye view

In this pivotal scene, Jesus presides over the final Passover of the Old Covenant and simultaneously institutes the inaugural meal of the New Covenant. This is not merely a sentimental farewell dinner; it is a formal, covenantal ceremony where the Testator Himself explains the terms of His last will and testament. The entire event is saturated with meaning. Jesus looks backward to the deliverance from Egypt, which the Passover commemorated, and forward to the ultimate fulfillment of all such meals in the consummated kingdom of God. He takes the ancient symbols of bread and wine and radically redefines them around His own impending sacrificial death. The bread is His body, given for His people. The wine is His blood, the very seal of the New Covenant. Yet, in the midst of this profound intimacy, the stark reality of betrayal looms, as Jesus announces that His betrayer is present at the table, setting up a sharp contrast between true communion and treacherous hypocrisy.

This passage establishes the central sacrament of the Christian faith. It is the interpretive key to the cross. The death He is about to die is not a tragic accident but a substitutionary, covenant-ratifying sacrifice. And the meal He leaves His church is not a bare memorial but a means of grace, a covenant renewal ceremony where we are spiritually nourished by the body and blood of the Lord, proclaiming His death until He comes.

Outline

Context In Luke

This passage is the solemn heart of the final section of Jesus' ministry on earth. Luke has meticulously detailed the growing opposition to Jesus, which is now reaching its fever pitch. Immediately preceding this, Judas has already conspired with the chief priests to betray Jesus (Luke 22:1-6), and Peter and John have been sent to prepare the Passover meal (Luke 22:7-13). The scene in the upper room is therefore charged with dramatic irony. The disciples are preparing for a festival of deliverance, unaware that the true deliverance is about to be accomplished through the most heinous act of betrayal in history. This meal serves as the final, intimate instruction for the apostles before the chaos of the arrest, trial, and crucifixion. It is immediately followed by their pathetic argument over which of them is the greatest (Luke 22:24-30), showing just how desperately they needed the grace represented in this meal. The Lord's Supper is the lens through which Luke wants us to view the cross that follows.

Key Issues

The Testator and His Testament

We must not read this account with the kind of sentimentalism that fogs so much modern Christianity. This is not primarily a story about friendship and farewells. This is a legal proceeding. This is a covenant ceremony. Jesus is the testator, and He is about to read His last will and testament to His heirs. The inheritance is eternal life, and the price of that inheritance is His own death. The bread and the wine are the seals of the testament, the sworn signs that ratify the covenant. When He says, "This cup... is the new covenant in My blood," He is using formal, legal language. A covenant is a solemn, binding agreement, and in the ancient world, they were sealed with blood. The Old Covenant was sealed with the blood of bulls and goats. The New, and everlasting, Covenant is sealed with the blood of the Son of God. This meal is the inauguration of that new arrangement between God and man, and everything that happens from this point forward, including the cross itself, must be understood in light of this covenantal framework.

Verse by Verse Commentary

14 And when the hour had come, He reclined at the table, and the apostles with Him.

The timing is precise. "The hour had come" is a recurring theme in the gospels, indicating that events are not unfolding randomly but according to a divine timetable. This is the appointed moment toward which all of history has been moving. The posture of reclining was typical for a formal banquet, a feast, not a hurried snack. This was a solemn, celebratory occasion, even with the shadow of the cross falling across the table.

15-16 And He said to them, “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer; for I say to you, I shall never again eat it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God.”

This is a remarkable statement. The omnipotent Son of God expresses an "earnest desire." This was the capstone of His earthly ministry, the event that would infuse all the Old Testament shadows with their ultimate meaning. He desired to do this with them, with His chosen disciples. He links the meal directly to His impending suffering; the Passover lamb was a type, and He, the antitype, was about to be slain. Then He makes a vow. He will not eat this meal again until it finds its ultimate fulfillment in the kingdom. The Passover pointed forward to the cross. The Lord's Supper, which He is about to institute, points back to the cross and forward to the marriage supper of the Lamb. The kingdom's arrival is not a distant event; it is inaugurated by His death and resurrection. The fulfillment He speaks of begins now and continues throughout the life of the church, culminating in the great feast of the consummation.

17-18 And when He had taken a cup and given thanks, He said, “Take this and share it among yourselves. For I say to you, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine from now on until the kingdom of God comes.”

This is likely the first of the several ceremonial cups of the Passover meal. Jesus sets it apart, and with it, He sets Himself apart. This is a vow of consecration. He is entering into His great trial, His great battle, and like a Nazirite, He abstains. He will not taste the wine of gladness again until the work is finished, until the kingdom has come in power through His resurrection and ascension. He is focused entirely on the task at hand: the redemption of His people.

19 And when He had taken some bread and given thanks, He broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is My body which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of Me.”

Here is the central act. The sequence is important: He took, He gave thanks (eucharist), He broke, and He gave. The breaking is a clear pointer to the violence His body is about to endure on the cross. His statement, "This is My body," is the great stumbling block for many. It is not a literal, physical transformation of the bread's substance. But neither is it a mere, empty symbol. This is sacramental language. The sign and the thing signified are brought together. The bread is His body to us, in the eating. By faith, as we partake of the bread, we are spiritually nourished by Christ Himself. And it is a body "given for you." This is the language of substitution. He is our replacement. The command to "do this" establishes this as an ongoing ordinance for the church. And "remembrance" here is not a simple mental exercise. It is an anamnesis, a re-calling and re-presenting of a past event in such a way that its power is active in the present. We proclaim His death.

20 And in the same way He took the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup which is poured out for you is the new covenant in My blood.

After the meal, He takes the cup, likely the third cup of the Passover, the "cup of redemption." And He gives it its ultimate meaning. The cup is the New Covenant. Just as the bread is the body, the cup is the covenant. The covenant is the relationship; the blood is the ratification. His blood, poured out, is the seal that makes the covenant binding. The Old Covenant, with its repeated animal sacrifices, is now obsolete. This is the new and better arrangement, established on better promises and sealed with a better sacrifice. And again, it is "for you." The benefits of this covenant are applied to His people.

21-22 But behold, the hand of the one betraying Me is with Me on the table. For indeed, the Son of Man is going as it has been determined; but woe to that man by whom He is betrayed!”

The transition is jarring. From the height of covenantal glory, Jesus plunges to the depth of human treachery. The betrayer is not an outsider; his hand is on the table, a sign of shared intimacy and fellowship. This is a profound profanation of the meal. Jesus then lays out the great paradox of divine sovereignty and human responsibility. His death is not an accident; it has been "determined" in the eternal councils of God. It is part of the fixed plan. And yet, this divine determination does not absolve the human instrument of his guilt. "Woe to that man." Judas acts freely, out of the wickedness of his own heart, and he is fully and damnably responsible for his actions. Scripture does not ask us to resolve this tension, but to believe both truths.

23 And they began to argue among themselves which one of them it might be who was going to do this thing.

The disciples' response is telling. They do not suspect Judas, the obvious culprit to us as readers. Instead, they look inward, questioning themselves and one another. On one level, this shows a commendable lack of self-trust; they knew their own hearts were capable of great sin. But it also devolves into an argument, a foreshadowing of the squabble over greatness that Luke records next. Their confusion and fear reveal how little they yet understood the nature of His kingdom and the gravity of this hour.

Application

The lessons from this upper room are foundational for the Christian life. First, we must understand the gravity and glory of the Lord's Supper. It is not a funeral service for a dead hero. It is a triumphant feast, a covenant renewal ceremony with our living King. When we come to the table, we come to have our faith strengthened, our sins forgiven, and our union with Christ reaffirmed. We are receiving spiritual nourishment for the journey.

Second, the presence of Judas at the table is a permanent warning to the church against false profession. It is possible to be at the table, to go through the outward motions of faith, and yet have a heart full of treachery. This is why Paul tells us to examine ourselves before we eat and drink (1 Cor. 11:28). We must come to the table with repentance and faith, not with hypocrisy in our hearts.

Finally, this meal is the foundation of our assurance. The covenant is sealed in blood, the blood of God's own Son. It is an unbreakable covenant. Our salvation does not depend on the strength of our grip on Him, but on the strength of His grip on us, a grip secured at the cross. When we eat the bread and drink the cup, we are reminding ourselves that His body was broken for us, and His blood was shed for us. The work is finished, the testament is in force, and the inheritance is sure.