But if I seek for instances to show how God in Christ is brought very near to us, what can I choose more striking than that most solemn act of Christian communion to which we are called this day?  For, what is there in our mortal life, what joy, what sorrow, what feeling elated or subdued, which is not in that communion brought near to Christ to receive his blessing?  What is the first and outward thing of which it reminds us?  Is it not that last supper in Jerusalem, in which men,—­the twelve disciples, the first members of our Christian brotherhood,—­were brought into such solemn nearness to God, as seems to have begun the privileges of heaven upon earth?  They were brought near at once to Christ and to one another:  united to one another in him, in that double bond which, is the perfection at once of our duty and of our happiness.  And so in our communion we, too, draw near to Christ and to each other; we feel—­who is there at that moment, at least, that does not feel?—­what a tie there is to bind each of us to his brother, when we come to the table of our common Lord.  So far, the Lord’s Supper is but a type of what every Christian meeting should be:  never should any of us be gathered together on any occasion of common life, in our families or with our neighbours; we should sit down to no meal, we should meet in no company, without having Christ also in the midst of us; without remembering what we all are to him, and what we each therefore are to our brethren.  But when we further recollect what there is in the Lord’s Supper beyond the mere meeting of Christ and his disciples; what it is which the bread and the wine commemorate; of what we partake when, as true Christians, we eat of that bread, and drink of that cup; then we shall understand that God indeed is brought very near to us; inasmuch, as he who is a Christian, and partakes sincerely of Christian communion, is a partaker also of Christ:  and as belonging to his body, his living spiritual body, the universal Church, receives his share of all those blessings, of all that infinite love which the Father shows continually to the head of that body, his own well-beloved Son.

Say not then in your hearts, Who can ascend up into heaven, that is, to bring Christ down?  As on this day, when he took our nature upon him, he came down to abide with us for ever; to abide with, us, even when we should see him with our eyes no more:  for whilst he was on earth he so took part in all the concerns of life, in all its duties, its sorrows, and its joys, that memory, when looking back on the past, can fancy him present still; and then let the liveliest fancy do its work to the utmost, it cannot go beyond the reality; he is present still, for that belongs to his almightiness; he is present with us, because he is God; and we can fancy him with us, because he is man.  This is the way to lessen our distance from God and heaven, by bringing Christ continually to us on earth:  the sky is closed, and shows no