In every house in Jerusalem that feast lay spread. In palace and in hovel, in the best room of every inn and within the Temple precincts where dwelt that priestly course whose turn it was that day to conduct the sacred service, the lamb, the bread, the bitter herbs, lay waiting, mute testimony to a night in olden time when the Destroying Angel passed over the land of Egypt, to the first-borns of Egypt a messenger of death, but to those who were under the blood, deliverance ‑ glorious and complete.

Now the door is opening, and men appear. One by one, until twelve have entered, they take their places around the table, and wait. A quiet footfall on the threshold and their Master enters and closes the door, and by that simple action shuts out the world and all its cares and interests. The faint murmur of people rising from the street below dies down and is gone. The world is very far away, and the disciples are with their Master.

Who among them but did not feel the solemnity of this night? Accustomed as they were to the Passover ceremonial, observing it year by year continually, they could not but be conscious that after to-night, things would never be the same. On the two previous occasions when they had partaken of the Passover with their Master, this consciousness of impending crisis had not filled their minds. Something was going to happen; they realised that instinctively, without knowing its nature. But mingled with that apprehension there was a strange triumphant joy as though at last all the perplexities and misunderstandings of the past three years were to be resolved into a clear knowledge of the life which lay before them. That trouble and distress might yet lie beyond the bounds of this Passover evening they knew, but that God was with them in all their ways they were confident. Now the Master's voice broke the silence; tender tones, vibrant with rich feeling, searching their inmost souls and drawing their very hearts to an ecstasy of devotion and surrender.

"I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before 1 suffer; for I tell you, I will not eat it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God." Wonderful words! Would the Kingdom of God come so soon? This was the goal of all their hopes; the prayer of every child of Israel. These were thrilling words ‑ that He would not eat of the Passover again with them until the Kingdom of God should have come. That was what He had said so recently on the summit of Mount Tabor ‑ some of them would not taste of death "until the Kingdom of God should come"; now that they had endured with Him in all His trials, surely the day of God's recompense was at hand and Messiah would declare Himself . . . Eager thoughts are interrupted; the Master has taken a cup of wine in His right hand and is looking upward to Heaven. His voice breaks the stillness in solemn invocation.

"Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, the King of the universe, who hast created the fruit of the vine."

Silently, reverently, they all drank. The feast had begun. All eyes were turned to the Beloved One at the centre of the table. Again He spoke … of the Lord's Passover, when He passed over the houses of the children of Israel in Egypt and smote the Egyptians but delivered their houses. How He sent Moses His servant, and Aaron whom He had chosen. He brought them forth with silver and gold, and there was not one feeble person among their tribes. He brought them forth from servitude to freedom, from sorrow to joy, from darkness to marvelous light… HALLELUJAH!"

In low tones the word passed from lip to lip, "Hallelujah, Hallelujah", a murmur of reverent praise ascending to Israel's God. Then twelve voices joined in the recitation of familiar words.

"Let the name of the Lord be blessed from this present time and for ever. From the rising of the sun to its setting the name of the Lord is to be praised."

Once more the Lord's hands are moving over the table, breaking one of the cakes of unleavened bread. His quiet voice rises in the benediction.

'Blessed be thou, O Lord our God, the King of the universe, who brings forth food out of the earth."

The little cakes passed from each to his neighbour. Reverent hands reached out to the dish upon which lay the lamb roast with fire. They ate hastily, solemnly, as men fulfilling an ancient ritual. The room was very quiet, the flickering lamp cast strange cross-like shadows upon the wall behind the Lord.

"This is my body, which is given for you. This do in remembrance of me." They took of the bread, sharing each with other, wondering.

This is my blood of the new covenant, which is shed for many for the remission of sins. Drink ye, all, of it."

They drank, a strange, fierce joy pervading their souls. Now and for all time they were to be joined to Him they loved, in a relationship that would never be severed, to serve Him and be with Him for ever. Surely now He would speak plainly and disperse the mystery and misunderstanding that had surrounded their hopes for so long. Surely now He would tell them all.

"Verily I say to you, that one of you shall betray me."

They looked at one another fearfully. What horrifying calamity was this? How could any one of them dream of betraying the Master and the Cause they loved so dearly? What did it mean'? What dread portent lay behind those unexpected words?

"Is it I?" "Is it I?" "Is it I?" How could it be? The question rippled round the table. It came to one whose haunted eyes looked every way for succour ‑ for assurance ‑ for denial. Surely this could not be real; this was not in very truth happening to him? Surely it had all been a nightmare; that visit to the Priests, that shameful bargain, the cynical congratulations of those whom he hated more than he hated any man. And Jesus knew; he was sure of that now. Jesus knew all about that night visit, about the thirty pieces of silver, about his own desperate resolve to precipitate a climax to their three years' preaching. He knew, and still He did not declare himself…

The sound of a door, opening, and closing, quietly. Footsteps dying away down the stairway. Silence. Judas the betrayer was gone.

"Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him… Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me. Where I am going you cannot come. I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love one for another."

The soft cadences ceased. They sat silent, knowing now that their golden dreams were after all only dreams. Dimly they visualized a life without their Leader; a continuation of the toil and weariness of constant pilgrimage, no longer illumined by the presence and companionship of the One they loved. Heads were bowed; they could not meet each others' eyes. He was going away, and they would never see him again.

Peter ‑ a strangely quiet and subdued Peter— broke the silence, a quiver in his voice; "Lord ... where are you going?" 

"Let not your heart be troubled. Ye believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions; I go to prepare a place for you, and I will come again, and receive you unto myself, that where I am, there ye may be also . . . Love one another as I have loved you. The Father himself loveth you, because ye have loved me, and have believed that I came out from God . . . I came forth from the Father and am come into the world; again, I leave the world, and go to the Father."

They heard the words, but they understood not. Even though He returned to the Father, of what avail if all their hopes were gone and there was no deliverance in Israel? They loved him still and would always love him, but He was leaving them and they could not understand why. They could only trust.

A sign from those dear hands, and eleven men rose to their feet, eyes uplifted to Heaven. Voices joined in the traditional hymn which was to conclude their feast. And when they came to the time-hallowed words,

"I shall not die, but live and declare the works of the Lord,

Open to me the gates of righteousness into which the righteous shall enter.

The stone which the builders refused, is become the head of the corner.

This is the work of our God. It is marvellous in our eyes.

This is the day which the Lord hath made, we will rejoice and be glad in it"

hearts were a little lightened and eyes a little brighter. Somewhere in all this was enshrined the ways of God. Israel had waited long for deliverance, but God is faithful; one day they would understand. The solemn chant rose upon the night air and listening angels wondered at its note of triumph. The lamp burned brightly in its last expiring flicker in the upper room ‑ but the forces of evil were speeding fast away.

And when they had sung that hymn, they went out into the Mount of Olives.