The nails are gone. The crown of thorns removed. The body of God is wrapped in linens and spiced, and laid in a new, rock-hewn tomb.

He descends into hell and proclaims victory over all of your foes. St. Peter wrote, “For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh but made alive in the spirit, in which he went and proclaimed to the spirits in prison, because they formerly did not obey, when God's patience waited in the days of Noah, while the ark was being prepared, in which a few, that is, eight persons, were brought safely through water.” (1 Peter 3:18-20) How long did this take? Well, I doubt He spent an entire day telling the imprisoned spirits, “It is ended; I won,” but did so before the end of that day. So, there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day (cf. Genesis 1:31)—a very Good Friday.

Jesus told a parable of man who owned a vineyard. He had a hired vinedresser. In his vineyard was a fig tree. Over the course of three years, day after day, in season, the man went to the tree looking for fruit. He never found any. He told his man to cut it down; “Why should it use up the ground?”

To the man, this tree was a waste of space and resources. He let it live and grow for three years, hoping that it would produce fruit—that it would do what it is supposed to do. It never did. Why should this tree continue to take the time and land away from some other tree or plant that would actually produce fruit? Why should the man bear with it any longer waiting for this fig tree to do the thing for which it was planted.

But the vinedresser had another idea. Give it another year. He would dig a trench around it and fill it with fertilizer. He would pay it some extra special attention, give it some extra care. And if, at the end of that year of more and better care it still did not produce fruit, cut it down. The vinedresser told his master, “Let it alone this year also.”

On this night on which the Lord Jesus Christ was betrayed, on which He instituted the Supper of His body and blood, it would do well to review Lutheran doctrine as it regards the Lord’s Supper.

I’ll begin simply with what the Sacrament of the Altar is. As just said and heard, in fewer words, “it is the true body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ under the bread and wine, instituted by Christ Himself for us Christians to eat and to drink.” What Luther taught here is confirmed in the words of Christ Himself. Again, these are words you have been taught, the primary text of the Sacrament, and which you hear every Sunday:

YHWH met with Moses on the mountain where He gave him the Ten Commandments. Moses could have taken the dictation in several ways. He could have written it on a papyrus scroll; after all, he just came from the land of papyrus, so the Israelites could have possibly had some. He could have written on clay tablets; clay isn’t a difficult resource to come by. He could have even written it in the sand as a means of helping him to memorize what God had said. But he didn’t record the Ten Commandments on paper or clay or even in the sand; they were carved in stone.

That phrase “carved in stone,” should give you pause. It conveys a kind of permanence. Stone represents endurance, so something written in stone—carved in stone—is longer-lasting than something written on paper, clay tablets, and sand. Something carved in stone is supposed to last. That’s what Job was saying when he spoke about his redeemer living:

Consequently, when you carve something in stone, it conveys an importance because of its permanence. The Ten Commandments are carved in stone.

This is God’s everlasting covenant with His people. His people will obey His will and keep these commandments. These laws are not only for His people, however, but for all mankind, as they are all His creation.

If you’ve broken one, you’ve broken them all. That’s what St. James taught. (cf. James 2:10) A reverse of sorts is also true. If you’ve broken any of them, you’ve broken the first.