John 13:1-17, 31-35
Today is Maundy Thursday, the least understood, probably least attended, and undoubtedly the most intimate of the Christian holy days.
It was the time of Passover when all Jews commemorated their escape from the Angel of Death while captives in Egypt. We share with those Hebrews, Jesus, and His disciples in that last meal, the foundation of the Eucharist we celebrate today, reminding us of Jesus’ suffering and our redemption through His body and blood.
Jesus knew His path would be to the cross, and he tried again to get the disciples to understand what would be happening.
The disciples were a rag-tag collection of people who gave up everything – their families, their jobs – to follow this man from Nazareth. There had to have been intense love and respect for Jesus. He had spent almost three years preaching and teaching these men and women. Yet, the disciples didn’t understand and seriously denied that He would go away.
One last time, Jesus provided an example of how the disciples and WE are to live in a relationship with God.
After the meal, Jesus humbled himself, as a servant, to wash the feet of the disciples – a custom relegated to the lowest of the low in the Jewish community. He instructed the disciples to follow his example:
I have set you an example that you should do as I have done to you. Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them (John 13:15)
This scripture reminds us that by following His example of humbling Himself, we can be more Christ-like and live a more godly life.
Today, it is called ‘maundy’ from the Latin ‘mandatum, ‘ meaning commandment or order, because of the command that Jesus gave ALL of us.
Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. (John 13:34)
Holy Thursday draws us to the table, in the company of Jesus and the disciples, as he begins to speak his final words. The disciples, nor will we understand everything Jesus has to say, will not be able to comprehend fully the import of what he is telling them, but his words will sear themselves into their hearts. These words will return to the disciples later, in that bewildering time known as ‘after’. These words will comfort them and stir their courage for the path that still awaits them.
But for now, they and we are at the table. As the night unfolds, we will see that the word at the center of Jesus’ vocabulary is this:
Love.
That is our charge, not only on this Maundy Thursday but now and for the rest of our lives.
To paraphrase,
“Unless you let me do this, unless you let me humble myself, unless you let me do something that you think is shameful, unless you let me embrace you in your shame, you cannot truly share my life, mission, and love.”
And so now, if we don’t let Jesus into our lives where we’re genuinely most vulnerable, ashamed, and broken, we don’t let Jesus into our lives at all.
The love of God, as we learned from Jesus, is unconditional. . .
Just as we are.
To share in His life and be fully followers of Jesus, we must love ourselves and others in that way, too.
Unconditionally.
Are we willing to accept that Jesus loves us, regardless of our failings, no matter what dirt we wear?
Can we remember that he suffers when we suffer?
Can we fully accept that our pettiness, anger, and violence hurt him deeply, as it hurts all humanity?
Can we fully comprehend that no matter what, his love has redeemed us, and through his suffering and example, we are assured we have eternal life?
Let us pray:
Please.
If you’ll help me
I promise to try to trust you enough to believe,
to believe in your wild and radical love
that it might even be for me
in a real way,
and to let you hold this sin of mine.
The one I like to carry because I think I deserve its weight,
its punishing load should be forever shaking my arms.
So if you’ll help me
I promise to try to trust and believe you can be that wonderful
for me, too.[1]
Amen.
Delivered at Trinity Episcopal Church on Capitol Square, Columbus, OH; 28 March 2024
[1] Adapted from prayer by Rev Erin Counihan, Oak Hill Presbyterian Church, St. Louis, MO
deni doulos 