Texts: Exodus 12:1-4 (5-10)
1 Corinthians 11:23-26 (Series C. Maundy Thursday)
Ps.116:1-2,12-19
John 13:1-17, 31-35
MAUNDY is an English form of the Latin word for Commandment. The overarching theme of Maundy Thursday is Jesus' new commandment, given on this the eve of his death, to "love one another even as I have loved you" (John 13:34)
Maundy Thursday is the night of the final meal that Jesus had with his disciples. The night in which he washed his disciples feet, saying after he had done so: (John 13:12-17)
"Do you understand what I have done for you? You call me Teacher' and 'Lord,' and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another's feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. I tell you the truth, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.
Maundy Thursday is the night in which Jesus not only washed his disciples feet, and later lifted up the bread and the wine and established a new sacrament in his name - it is also the night of Gethesame - the night of anguish of soul as he faced his betrayal and fast approaching death.
As some of you might know, I spent some time as a volunteer hospital chaplain when we lived in Mission, BC. My work took me to the neonatal intensive care unit at times, where families with premature and struggling little babies. For most of us, at the beginning it seemed, our main desire was to help, to fix, to solve the problems of others.
But I soon learned that there are many situations in life that I just can't fix, no matter, how carefully I speak, no matter what words I choose. I can't remove someone's pain when they lose a loved one. I can't make someone stop worrying over a child in need or a rejected love or a broken relationship. I can't walk their journey for them, or make them forget about the trials and obstacles they face.
In fact, the first realization for me in the chaplaincy work was that there was not much I could do for those for whom I was caring, if by doing I meant making what was painful and difficult disappear. And so it was easy to feel helpless and overwhelmed by the pain and suffering I witnessed on each visit to the hospital.
But, part of the process for me was analyzing the responses of the families and putting theological language to their experiences - putting it in a context of faith-language. In doing so, I searched for ways to understand what I was called to do. And thus have a little bit of understanding of what was going on, between them and me, and between them and God.
The gospel account of Jesus on the night of his betrayal and arrest. Jesus withdraws to pray, filled with grief and sorrow, worried about the task he must complete, wishing that somehow there could be another path for him. The gospel accounts indicate that he asked some of the disciples to wait and watch with him through his lonely night of despair. But they are too tired for even that, and they all fall asleep while Jesus is praying.
Perhaps the disciples wondered what comfort they could be to Jesus. They found it all too much to handle, perhaps, so they found escape in sleep. What they missed was that Jesus had told them exactly what they could do to help him in his night of greatest need - they just needed to stay awake - just needed to be there while he spent the long night in prayer with God.
I learned that parents of sick or dying babies already knew that there was nothing I could do or say to make their baby grow faster, get better or come home sooner or bring back their babies (in the case of still birth).
They knew that. What they could use from me was a person who would be willing to stay - stay awake - stay present in the midst of a difficult, painful time. Stay present even when it was hard to bear another's pain, stay awake even when I wanted to close my eyes. Share in their experience - that was how I could show my love and God's love.
So tonight we find ourselves here with Jesus on that same dark night - the night before his crucifixion - the night when he shared a last meal with his friends, the night when one of his own betrayed him into the hands of his enemies, the night when he was arrested, the night when he asked God to remove the cup of death from him if there could be any other way.
And on this night, we are perhaps tempted to already look ahead - to the flowers on Easter morning, to the music and trumpets, to the joy and the singing, to the celebration. Instead, Jesus asks us to pause here with him, to share with him in this longest of nights, even if it makes us uncomfortable, even if we'd rather not think about it, even if we don't know what to say to make it better.
During supper that night, Jesus rose up, tied a towel around himself, and began to wash the feet of his disciples, an act of humility, an act of service, an act of love. When Peter protested, Jesus answered with words that ring in my head: "Unless I wash you, you have no share with me."
After he is done, Jesus tells the disciples he has set them an example, saying, "You also ought to wash one another's feet . . . 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 for one another."
Do we want to share with Jesus? We must be washed clean by him. We must, as he did, become like servants to one another. We must, as he did, wash one another's feet, shower one another with love.
But if we want to share with Christ, we must ask, are we able to share with him. He calls us: 'Share with me. Just stay here with me in my pain. Stay with me even as others abandon me.' Can you and I stay with Christ when everyone else closes their weary eyes? Can you and I stay even when you have no words to say?
The choice is ours - but the time is short. Tomorrow, our Christ is again put to death on a cross. What will you do tonight? When gathered with his disciples for a last meal, Jesus asked them to share with him by remembering him in the bread and wine they took that night.
In the bread, Jesus said, you share in my body. In the wine, you share in my blood. In this meal, you share in me. Share with me - drink my blood, eat my body.
We, too, remember, and share, and become the body of Christ. We come and partake of the body that is broken for us. We come and partake of the blood that is shed for us. Will you come? Will you share with Christ in final hours?
Benediction: We are washed clean by the One who washed the feet of his disciples. We are blessed by the One who suffered the cross for our salvation. We are loved by the One who saved the world through sacrificial love. (Adapted from the Abingdon Worship Annual 2004, pg. 90)
Amen.
Rev. Samuel King-Kabu
April 5, 2007