The Fruit of the Vine and the Fable of Flesh

The Apostle Paul’s warnings to Timothy ring with relevance today as the Church continues to discern between truth and theological fiction. “But refuse profane and old wives’ fables, and exercise thyself rather unto godliness” (1 Tim. 4:7, KJV). He is equally direct in condemning doctrines that demand abstaining from foods or promoting a form of legalistic or speculative piety, saying that “God hath created [them] to be received with thanksgiving of them which believe and know the truth” (1 Tim. 4:3–4). Paul closes his first epistle with a solemn charge: “O Timothy, keep that which is committed to thy trust, avoiding profane and vain babblings, and oppositions of science falsely so called” (1 Tim. 6:20).

These admonitions could not be more applicable to the doctrine of transubstantiation, the Roman Catholic teaching that bread and wine become the literal body and blood of Jesus Christ during the Eucharist, even though all empirical properties remain unchanged. This idea, deeply rooted in Aristotelian metaphysics; a system wholly foreign to the language, setting, and theology of Jesus’ institution of the Lord’s Supper; represents precisely the kind of “science falsely so called” that Paul warned against. No such philosophical apparatus appears in the Gospels or epistles. There is no mention of “substance” and “accidents,” no ontological transformation. Instead, Christ instituted a memorial meal centered on remembrance, communion, and proclamation: “For as often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do shew the Lord’s death till he come” (1 Cor. 11:26). The elements remain bread and cup; tangible symbols of a once-for-all sacrifice.

Moreover, to teach that Christ's blood is literally consumed in the Eucharist contradicts the clear command of God in Leviticus 17:10–14, where the consumption of blood is strictly forbidden on pain of excommunication. The reason? “The life of the flesh is in the blood… for it is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul.” God set apart blood as sacred for atonement, never for ingestion. To then claim Christ commanded His followers to literally drink blood; not metaphorically or spiritually, but materially;is to put Him in conflict with the very Law He came to fulfill, not transgress.

Even more, the doctrine of transubstantiation erodes the sufficiency and finality of Christ's atoning work. “By the which will we are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all… For by one offering he hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified” (Heb. 10:10, 14). Yet the Catholic Mass re-presents Christ’s body and blood day after day, mass after mass, as though the cross were not enough. This stands in stark contrast to the New Testament’s unambiguous declaration: one sacrifice, once for all, never to be repeated or extended through ritualistic reenactments.

What follows is a comprehensive biblical and historical argument exposing the contradictions, historical novelty, and scriptural deficiency of transubstantiation. By examining Matthew 26:29 and Luke 22:15–20, along with the Passover context and the testimony of the early church, it becomes irrefutably clear that Christ spoke metaphorically, not literally. The bread remained bread. The wine remained wine. The body and blood of Christ were soon to be offered once, not physically ingested daily. The doctrine of transubstantiation is, quite simply, a fable; a religious construct outside the bounds of apostolic doctrine and contrary to both Scripture and reason.

Transubstantiation is the Roman Catholic doctrine that during the Eucharist (Mass), the substance of bread and wine is "miraculously" transformed into the literal body and blood of Jesus Christ, even though the appearances (or “accidents”) of bread and wine remain. This doctrine was not formally defined until the medieval era (Fourth Lateran Council, 1215 AD, and later at Trent) and even Catholic historians acknowledge that the term transubstantiation and its detailed theology developed long after New Testament times. The central biblical support claimed for this teaching is Jesus’s words at the Last Supper: “This is my body… this is my blood.” Catholics interpret these words literally, but a careful analysis of Scripture; especially Luke 22:15-20 and Matthew 26:29 (KJV); along with historical context and early Christian writings, reveals a metaphorical intent. In what follows, I will develop a scholarly, logically rigorous argument that Jesus was speaking figuratively when He instituted the Lord’s Supper. By examining the Passover setting, the use of symbolic language in Hebrew culture, the testimony of early Church Fathers (several of whom understood the Eucharist symbolically), and the broader biblical teaching, I will demonstrate beyond a shadow of a doubt that the doctrine of transubstantiation is unsupported by Scripture and represents a later doctrinal development outside the bounds of early apostolic teaching.

Scriptural Analysis: The Last Supper and “Fruit of the Vine”

At the Last Supper, Jesus spoke words that Catholics take as proof of a literal change: “This is my body which is given for you” and “This cup is the new testament in my blood” (Luke 22:19-20, KJV). Yet immediately after declaring the cup to be “my blood of the new testament” (Matthew 26:28), Jesus makes a striking statement in Matthew 26:29: “But I say unto you, I will not drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.” Likewise, in Luke 22:17-18 He tells the disciples to share the cup and says, “for I say unto you, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God shall come.” The term “fruit of the vine” is a clear reference to ordinary wine – the product of grape vines. This choice of words strongly indicates that Jesus still regarded the contents of the cup as wine, not literal blood, directly after saying “this is my blood.” Protestant commentators have long pointed out that if transubstantiation had occurred at that moment, Jesus’s own words in verse 29 would make no sense, as He would be calling what is allegedly blood by the ordinary term for wine. In other words, the substance had not changed – Christ “specifically identified the drink as ‘this fruit of the vine’ (Mt. 26:29). The nature of the substance had not changed.” By describing the cup’s contents as wine even after the words of institution, Jesus underscores the symbolic nature of His language. It would be logically inconsistent (even deceptive) for Him to literally transform the wine into blood while still calling it wine – thus the most straightforward reading is that “This is my blood” was meant figuratively, while the cup in fact remained wine.

We can further support this point with the timeline of events. Jesus spoke these words on the night before His crucifixion; at that moment His real, physical body was sitting with the disciples, and His blood was still in His veins (His blood would be shed the next day on the cross). As one analysis puts it, “Jesus could not have meant [the bread and wine] literally, for his body was untouched and his blood unshed on this occasion when he spoke [the words]. Moreover, in Mark 14:25 [parallel to Matt. 26:29], Jesus calls the wine ‘the fruit of the vine,’ when according to the doctrine of Transubstantiation, it had been turned into blood and hence not wine at all.” Jesus was instituting a memorial of a sacrifice that was yet to occur, not performing a literal act of cannibalism. Just as He often spoke proleptically (i.e. describing a future reality as present or past for emphasis), here the bread and cup signify His body and blood about to be given in sacrifice. Indeed, Jesus commands the disciples to “do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:19, 1 Cor. 11:24) – language one would not use if He were literally physically present in the elements. As another scholar notes, the instruction to partake “in remembrance” of Christ “contains the implication that he would not be present physically in the communion celebration.” The Lord’s Supper is thus a commemorative ordinance in which believers symbolically partake of Christ’s body and blood through the elements of bread and wine.

The Apostle Paul’s account of the Last Supper in 1 Corinthians 11 further confirms the metaphorical understanding. Paul recounts Jesus’ words “This is my body... This cup is the new covenant in my blood,” but then Paul repeatedly refers to the consecrated elements as “bread” and “cup.” “As often as ye eat this bread and drink this cup, ye do shew the Lord’s death till he come,” Paul writes (1 Cor. 11:26, KJV), and he warns against partaking unworthily of “the bread and cup of the Lord.” Notably, he does not say “as often as you eat this flesh and drink this blood” – even after consecration, Paul’s language remains bread and cup, implying that the elements retain their normal substance. A Protestant critique puts it succinctly: “According to Catholic doctrine, Paul should have commanded them to ‘eat His flesh and drink His blood.’” Yet he does not. Instead, Scripture consistently calls the elements bread and wine (or cup) even in the context of the Lord’s Supper (see 1 Cor. 10:16-17, 21). This is inexplicable if an ontological change of substance had occurred, but perfectly understandable if these terms are being used as symbols of Christ’s body and blood.

Finally, consider Jesus’ phrase “This cup is the new testament (covenant) in my blood” (Luke 22:20, cf. 1 Cor. 11:25). No Christian interprets “cup” here in an ultra-literal sense (Jesus was not saying the physical drinking vessel somehow was the New Covenant). Clearly “cup” stands by metonymy for its contents, and “is the new covenant in my blood” means represents or signifies the covenant ratified by His blood. If part of Jesus’ statement at the Last Supper (like “this cup”) is obviously figurative, it invites the conclusion that all of it was figurative. In fact, 19th-century biblical scholar E.W. Bullinger observed that in the words “This is my body... this is my blood,” “this is (i.e., represents or signifies) my body” is an example of metaphor, a figure of speech, “Here, thus, we have a pair of metaphors.” The disciples were quite familiar with this kind of symbolic expression, as we will see next.

Symbolic Language in Hebrew Culture and Biblical Teaching

The metaphorical interpretation of Jesus’ words is bolstered by the broader context of biblical language and Jewish custom. Hebrew culture frequently employed symbolic language and vivid metaphors, especially in religious instruction. Jesus Himself was a master of metaphor: “I am the bread of life” (John 6:35), “I am the door” of the sheep (John 10:7), “I am the vine, ye are the branches” (John 15:5), “Ye are the light of the world… Ye are the salt of the earth” (Matt. 5:14-13). In none of these cases did His followers take Him in a woodenly literal way. As one refutation of literalism wryly notes, “He didn’t say, ‘I am a representation of a door.’ Therefore, if Christ was a literal vine, then His disciples had to be literal branches… If we use [the] reasoning [of transubstantiation advocates], it is easy to show the foolishness of such quibbles… In the passages cited above, Jesus used figures of speech (metaphors) in His teachings, just as He did when He instituted the memorial supper.” In other words, Jesus often identified Himself or others with symbols to illustrate spiritual truths. The Last Supper statements “This is my body” and “This is my blood” fit perfectly into this pattern of metaphorical teaching – the bread represents His body and the wine represents His blood, just as in other teachings a vine represented Jesus or bread symbolized His life-giving role.

The Passover context of the Last Supper especially points toward a symbolic meaning. Luke 22:15 highlights that Jesus deliberately chose the Passover meal for this institution: “With desire I have desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer.” The Passover Seder was (and is) a meal rich with symbolism in Jewish tradition. During the Seder, the host would take unleavened bread and declare, “This is the bread of affliction which our fathers ate in the land of Egypt…”. No one present imagined that the matzah literally was the same bread their ancestors ate, or that it had mystically transubstantiated into ancient bread. It was a memorial symbol, a way of participating in the story of the Exodus. Jesus took that familiar script and gave it an extraordinary new significance: “He didn’t say, ‘This is the bread of affliction,’ but rather, ‘This bread is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of Me.’” By diverging from the traditional formula, Jesus identified the bread with His own body soon to be given (sacrificed) for His people, and similarly the cup with His blood of the New Covenant – just as the blood of the lamb had marked the salvation of Israel at the first Passover. The disciples would naturally have understood these words in the same symbolic-metaphorical manner as the rest of the Passover liturgy. The bread and wine represent a greater reality (Jesus’s sacrificial body and blood), just as the Passover elements represented the Exodus salvation. In sum, the Last Supper’s original setting encourages a metaphorical interpretation: it was a covenant meal of remembrance and anticipation, not a literalistic magical ritual.

It’s also worth noting that the Aramaic and Hebrew idioms of the time often used “is” to mean “signifies” or “represents” when dealing with signs or symbols. For example, in prophetic or parabolic language: “The seven good kine are seven years” (Gen. 41:26), or Daniel’s interpretation “The tree... is you, O king” (Dan. 4:22) – clearly meaning symbolizes. Jesus saying “This is my body” can be understood in the same way: “this signifies my body.” Even the phrase “new covenant in my blood” evokes Old Testament covenant ratification imagery (where blood signified the sealing of a covenant) rather than a literal potion of blood. In Hebrew thought, to “drink someone’s blood” was a shocking idea (cf. Leviticus 17:10-14), which is why many of Jesus’ Jewish listeners were offended at His words in John 6 about eating His flesh and drinking His blood. But as Jesus later clarified in that discourse, “the words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life” (John 6:63) – i.e. a spiritual metaphor, not a literal mandate to violate God’s law by cannibalism or consuming blood. The consistent witness of Scripture is that literalistic interpretations must yield when they lead to absurd or ungodly conclusions, whereas symbolic interpretations often convey profound spiritual truth. In the case of the Eucharist, a literal reading of “this is my blood” would create conflict with God’s own commands (since the apostles taught believers to “abstain…from blood”), whereas the symbolic reading neatly harmonizes with both the immediate context and the wider biblical theology.

Early Church Interpretation and Historical Context

If transubstantiation were a truth taught unambiguously by Christ and the apostles, we would expect to find it clearly attested in the earliest Christian writings. On the contrary, the historical evidence suggests that the earliest church fathers often understood the Lord’s Supper in symbolic or mystical terms, rather than as a literal change of substance. For example, Clement of Alexandria (c. 150–215 AD) explicitly taught that when Jesus spoke of eating His flesh and drinking His blood, He was using figurative language. In Paedagogus (The Instructor), Clement explains that “elsewhere the Lord, in the Gospel according to John, brought this out by symbols, when He said: ‘Eat ye my flesh, and drink my blood,’ describing distinctly by metaphor the drinkable properties of faith and the promise…”. Clement goes on to clarify that “the Word is figuratively described as meat, and flesh, and food, and bread, and blood, and milk. The Lord is all these, to give enjoyment to us who have believed on Him. Let no one then think it strange, when we say that the Lord’s blood is figuratively represented as milk. For is it not figuratively represented as wine? ‘Who washes his garment in wine, his robe in the blood of the grape’”. Here Clement not only affirms the metaphorical nature of Jesus’ “eat my flesh” teaching, but even cites an Old Testament metaphor (“blood of the grape,” equating wine with blood) to show that Scripture itself uses wine as a symbol of blood. This is a remarkably direct testimony from a prominent 2nd-century Christian teacher that the Eucharistic language was understood symbolically in the early church.

Another early writer, Tertullian (c. 155–240 AD), likewise speaks of the bread of Communion as a figure representing Christ’s body. Writing against the gnostic Marcion, who denied that Jesus had a real physical body, Tertullian argued that Christ, in order to symbolically give the bread as a figure of His body, must indeed have had a real body of flesh (against Marcion’s “phantom” theory). Tertullian states: “Then, having taken the bread and given it to His disciples, He made it His own body by saying, ‘This is my body,’ that is, the figure of my body. A figure, however, there could not have been, unless there were first a veritable body.” In Tertullian’s usage, “figure” (Latin figura) clearly means a symbolic representation. Far from teaching a literal metamorphosis of substance, Tertullian understood Jesus to be identifying the bread figuratively with His body. Importantly, even after using this figurative language, Tertullian still affirms the real spiritual value of the Eucharist – he speaks of “the flesh feeding on the body and blood of Christ, that the soul likewise may be fattened on its God” – but he does so in a sacramental and mystical sense, not as crude material eating. In other writings, Tertullian refers to the Communion elements as “bread” even after consecration, consistent with a symbolic or “sacramental presence” view rather than an assertion that the bread ceases to be bread.

We find similar interpretative approaches in the writings of Origen and Augustine, among others. Origen of Alexandria (c. 184–253) taught that the true eating of Christ is by faith and that the physical elements nourish the body while Christ’s word and truth nourish the soul – implying a distinction between the symbol (bread) and the spiritual reality (Christ’s life) it signifies. And perhaps most famously, St. Augustine (354–430) explicitly identified Jesus’ command to “eat my flesh, drink my blood” as a figurative expression. In his treatise On Christian Doctrine, Augustine lays down rules for interpreting Scripture and says: “If a statement seems to command an immoral or absurd action, it is figurative. ‘Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in you’. This seems to command a crime or vice; therefore it is a figure, enjoining us to partake of the Lord’s passion and to remember with gratitude that His flesh was wounded and crucified for us.” Augustine thus understood Jesus’ words in John 6 (and by extension the Eucharistic command) not as literal cannibalism but as a figure meaning “communion in the Lord’s passion” and a “grateful remembrance” of His sacrifice. This is exactly the memorial understanding that Protestants claim and which the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation obscures. Augustine elsewhere affirmed the real spiritual presence of Christ in the sacrament, but he did so while maintaining that the signs of bread and wine remain, and that to interpret “eat my flesh” in a crassly literal way would be abhorrent.

It is true that other Church Fathers often speak of the Eucharist in mystical or realistic terms (for example, Ignatius of Antioch spoke of “the flesh of our Saviour” in the bread, and later fathers like Ambrose or Cyril of Jerusalem use language that emphasizes a change happening). The early church as a whole certainly regarded the Eucharist as deeply sacred and in some sense truly the body and blood of Christ in a spiritual mystery. However, it is crucial to note that none of the ante-Nicene fathers (pre-4th century) articulated a philosophical doctrine of “substance” and “accidents” changing, nor did they use the term transubstantiation. There was a range of understanding, often paradoxical or reverential, but clear references to symbolism (like those from Clement, Tertullian, Augustine) show that a straightforward literal interpretation was not universal and was indeed questioned or tempered by many early teachers. The formal, man-made doctrine of transubstantiation, with its precise claim that the substance of bread and wine are converted into Christ’s flesh and blood, crystallized much later. Historical records show that this concept was “vigorously defended in the early ninth century A.D.” (e.g. by Radbertus versus Ratramnus in the 800s), and eventually “adopted by the Fourth Lateran Council (A.D. 1215)” and later “formalized at the Council of Trent (1545–63)”. In other words, it took over a millennium for the church to officially define this teaching. By contrast, the earliest post-apostolic writings do not present a uniform belief in a literal transformation; instead, they often emphasize the mystery and symbolic significance of the sacrament. This historical fact supports the argument that transubstantiation is a later doctrinal development, not an original apostolic doctrine. Even Catholic apologists admit that the terminology was later – “none of the Fathers used the term ‘transubstantiation’”, as Catholic Answers notes – though they maintain (from their perspective) that the belief in the Real Presence was there in a nascent form. From a critical perspective, however, the burden of proof lies on showing that the apostles themselves taught a literal change, and the evidence we have considered (Scripture and early exegesis) points in the opposite direction. The early Christian practice and teaching are far more compatible with a sacramental symbol (a holy memorial) than with the later-developed idea of Aristotelian metaphysics being applied to the bread and wine.

To fully grasp the errors inherent in the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation, it is helpful to place it in contrast with the major Protestant views on the Lord’s Supper. These perspectives diverge not only in how they interpret Christ’s words, “This is my body,” but also in their understanding of Christ’s presence and the role of the sacrament within Christian life and worship.

The Roman Catholic Church, following the formal definition set forth at the Council of Trent, teaches that the entire substance of bread and wine is miraculously transformed into the literal body and blood of Christ, while only the external appearances; taste, smell, texture; remain unchanged. This transformation is said to occur at the moment of consecration, and Christ is then believed to be corporeally, “really and substantially” present under the elements. The Catholic view hinges on interpreting Christ’s words at the Last Supper in a rigidly literal, ontological sense: the elements do not merely symbolize His body; they become it. This act is treated not merely as a remembrance, but as a true and ongoing sacrifice, re-presenting the crucifixion in every Mass. The elements, having become Christ Himself, are even given latreutic worship—adoration due to God alone. Yet, despite its centrality to Catholic theology, this doctrine has no explicit basis in Scripture and developed gradually, influenced more by medieval philosophical categories; especially Aristotelian metaphysics; than by the clear witness of the apostolic church.

One would imagine that if the Roman Catholic Church were so adamant about a literal interpretation of “This is my body,” they might show equal zeal for Hebrews 4:4 and 4:9, where Scripture plainly declares that “there remaineth therefore a rest to the people of God”—a Sabbatismos, a Sabbath-keeping. Or perhaps they would honor Exodus 31:16–17, which proclaims the Sabbath as a perpetual covenant, an eternal sign between God and His people. But evidently, the same institution that insists bread becomes flesh, despite no such transformation described in Scripture, is quick to discard a commandment that is explicitly called everlasting. It seems when doctrine serves power or tradition, Rome enforces it to the letter—but when Scripture confronts their system, they simply pick and choose what “truth” Catholics are required to believe.

I digress.....

Apostolic Warnings Against Non-Apostolic Doctrines

The New Testament not only fails to support transubstantiation; it also contains warnings about deviating into speculative or mythical doctrines that echo our critique of this later development. The Apostle Paul urged Timothy to guard the purity of the gospel and avoid man-made innovations: “Neither give heed to fables and endless genealogies, which minister questions, rather than godly edifying which is in faith” (1 Timothy 1:4, KJV). He similarly charged Titus to beware of those who would corrupt sound teaching, “not giving heed to Jewish fables, and commandments of men, that turn from the truth.” (Titus 1:14, KJV). In Paul’s prophetic words to Timothy, we find a sobering prediction: “the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine… and they shall turn away their ears from the truth, and shall be turned unto fables.” (2 Timothy 4:3-4, KJV). The term “fables” (Greek mythoi, myths) in these contexts refers to human-invented teachings or legends that distract from the core apostolic gospel.

Those who argue against transubstantiation often apply these warnings to that doctrine: since the idea of a literal transformation of the Eucharist is not taught in Scripture (and even contradicts scriptural principles, like the prohibition on consuming blood), it falls under the category of later “commandments of men” or theological “myths” developed beyond what the apostles handed down. Paul’s insistence on “sound doctrine” and clinging to the gospel once delivered (cf. Galatians 1:6-9) implies that we should be very cautious about any article of faith that cannot be demonstrated from the Bible’s teaching. In Galatians 1:8, Paul says that even if an angel from heaven preached a different gospel, it must be rejected. The absence of any clear apostolic teaching of transubstantiation – and indeed the presence of contrary indications (as we have seen in the words of Jesus and Paul) – strongly suggests that this doctrine is, at best, a post-apostolic theological speculation and, at worst, a distortion that “turns away from the truth.”

Historically, when transubstantiation was finally defined in 1215 AD, it “was almost 1200 years AFTER the Lord’s church was established.” For century upon century, Christians managed to celebrate the Lord’s Supper without the need for Aristotelian terminology of substance and accidents. It is telling that many infallible popes and councils prior to the 13th century did not see fit to define such a doctrine – raising the question of whether it was truly part of the original “faith once delivered to the saints.” By contrast, what is present from the very earliest days is the understanding of the Eucharist as a memorial of Christ’s sacrifice. For example, the apostolic practice was to partake of bread and cup in worship (Acts 2:42, 20:7) as a way of “proclaiming the Lord’s death” (1 Cor. 11:26). Nowhere do the apostles instruct believers to adore the elements or treat them as anything other than bread and wine used for a sacred purpose. Even Jesus’ own command, “Do this in remembrance of me,” places the emphasis on the remembering of Christ’s body given and blood shed, rather than on any change in the elements or re-presenting of His body. Paul calls the Lord’s Supper a “communion” or “participation” in the body and blood of Christ (1 Cor. 10:16), but then immediately explains that eating the one bread symbolically shows unity in Christ (1 Cor. 10:17). Thus, the apostolic focus is on spiritual fellowship with Christ and unity among believers, using the tangible bread and cup as symbols. This is entirely in line with a metaphorical understanding and completely at odds with later Medieval developments that turned the sacrament into an object of superstitious veneration and complicated doctrinal debate.

In addition, we should consider the practical ramifications that developed: the Catholic Church eventually even decreed (at the Council of Constance, 1415) that laity should receive only the bread, not the cup – withholding the wine from the people on the grounds that Christ’s blood was fully present in the bread alone. This is one of the clearest examples of Rome directly contradicting the plain practice and command of Christ—“Drink ye all of it” (Matt. 26:27); while simultaneously claiming fidelity to His words, such as “This is my body”. 

Such an innovation again illustrates how far practice drifted once the literalist view took hold: it led to departures from Jesus’ simple institution (dividing clergy and laity in participation). While the Catholic Church has since restored the cup to the laity in many cases, the historical episode underscores how a departure from the original teaching (in this case, over-exalting the Eucharist as an object) can yield unbiblical traditions of men. Paul’s warnings about “commandments of men that turn from the truth” resonate here. The safest course is to adhere closely to what Scripture actually teaches about the Lord’s Supper, without adding theories that the apostles never taught.

The Strong Delusion: When Fire Falls from the Altar, Not from Heaven

The Apostle Paul, in a sobering prophetic warning, wrote of a time when the world would fall prey to a powerful deception, engineered not by ignorance but by rebellion:“Even him, whose coming is after the working of Satan with all power and signs and lying wonders, and with all deceivableness of unrighteousness… because they received not the love of the truth, that they might be saved” (2 Thessalonians 2:9–10, KJV).

John the Revelator saw it too, in apocalyptic vision:“And he doeth great wonders, so that he maketh fire come down from heaven on the earth in the sight of men, and deceiveth them that dwell on the earth by the means of those miracles…” (Revelation 13:13–14, KJV).These are not miracles from God—but lying wonders. Signs "so falsely called"; false miracles, designed to impersonate the power of God.

And what greater deception exists than the false miracle of transubstantiation?That bread should claim to become flesh, and wine masquerade as blood; that fire from heaven should be invoked at a man-made altar, summoning God into the hands of priests and into the mouths of men—men who disregard God’s eternal sign, the Sabbath, and who even tampered with the second commandment to preserve the veneration of idols—this is not reverence, but religious theatre cloaked in authority, built on selective obedience and doctrinal invention.This is not the fire Moses saw in the bush, when “the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed” (Exodus 3:2).This is not the consuming fire from heaven that answered Elijah’s prayer (1 Kings 18:38).This is a counterfeit fire, kindled not by heaven, but by human tradition—a miracle “so falsely called.”

For what does the Scripture say? “The life of the flesh is in the blood… it shall be a perpetual statute… that ye eat neither fat nor blood” (Leviticus 17:10–14). Yet the priest dares to say: “This is His blood—drink ye all of it.” Who has authorized this reversal of divine law? Where is it written that the sacrifice, finished once for all (Hebrews 10:10), must be re-enacted daily? Where is it revealed that Christ’s glorified body should be broken endlessly on altars by the hands of men who fail to keep his commandments, and His blood consumed in contradiction to the Law He fulfilled?

It is nowhere.

Indeed, the Lord's Supper is a remembrance (Luke 22:19), not a recreation; a proclamation (1 Corinthians 11:26), not a performance; a communion in faith, not a conjuring of flesh. And yet the world bows before this Eucharistic fire, and calls it holy.

What is this but the great delusion? The Antichrist; he who “opposeth and exalteth himself above all that is called God” (2 Thessalonians 2:4); does not always come with horns. Sometimes he comes with incense, with vestments, with wafer and wine. He stands not always in denial of Christ, but “in the place of Christ”; anti in the truest Greek sense. He performs a miracle without Scripture, preaches a gospel without cross, offers a Christ without truth, and calls it holy. He brings fire down from heaven, but it is not the fire of God.

It is the fire of deception, and it burns in the chalice of tradition.

Let every Timothy and Titus, every faithful disciple, hear again the words of Paul:“Keep that which is committed to thy trust, avoiding profane and vain babblings, and oppositions of science falsely so called” (1 Timothy 6:20). And let us remember what Christ said; not “Eat my literal flesh,” but “Do this in remembrance of me.”

The cross was enough.The sacrifice is finished. Let no man call down fire that God has not sent.

Sources:

• The Holy Bible, King James Version – Matthew 26:26-29; Luke 22:15-20; 1 Corinthians 10-11; John 6, etc.

• Anglican Connection – The Last Supper (Passover context).

• J.W. McGarvey & P. Pendleton – The Fourfold Gospel (commentary on Matthew 26:26f).

• E.W. Bullinger – Figures of Speech Used in the Bible (on the Last Supper metaphors).

• Clement of Alexandria, Paedagogus 1.6 – on the figurative meaning of “eat My flesh, drink My blood”.

• Tertullian, Against Marcion 4.40 – “the figure of My body” in the Eucharist.

• Augustine, On Christian Doctrine 3.16.24 – on John 6 as figurative.

• Christian Courier (Wayne Jackson) – What Are Transubstantiation and Consubstantiation?.

• GotQuestions – What is memorialism? (on Zwingli’s view vs. Catholic/Lutheran).

• Knollwood Church of Christ – Why Transubstantiation Is False (compiling arguments and patristic quotes).

• New Testament Epistles – 1 Tim. 1:4, Titus 1:14, 2 Tim. 4:4 (warnings against unscriptural doctrines).