Salvation’s not when you’re given a gift held inside a box and gift wrap and ribbons: salvation’s when you, the helpless, orphaned baby, are taken up into God’s arms – even you, kicking and screaming – to feed at his breast because you can do none other. So help you God, for now you are his.
I think we can have no quibbles about what that baby will do then: he continually drinks that life-giving milk, lest he die; he drinks of the winecup, lest he wither and be cut off from the Vine. Words, words, words will not nourish his life unless they come with food. If Christ’s flesh is real food, his blood real drink, it cannot be only words spoken into the air as legal fictions, but they will feed the child indeed.
For Christ our Paschal Lamb has been sacrificed, for us to feed on him by faith.