Maundy Thursday
This
night our Lenten journey ends and our Easter journey is not yet upon us. Our bishop says that Lent ends at sundown on
Maundy Thursday but it will take us three full days “to begin to remember, to
begin to unforget” who we are.[1]
Jesus
gathered with his disciples and with others at many times throughout his life.
Our Scriptures are filled with such stories - meals where he is the host and
meals where he is the guest. And the
story we read in John’s gospel tonight is just one of those many stories. The bread and wine that we will share tonight
is no different from the bread and the wine which we share every Sunday when we
gather. This is just one of many such
occasions.
How
many times have you shared a meal with friends or family members? It’s an impossible question because, really,
who counts those things. But there will
always be certain times you remember more than others. That time that there was a blizzard that resulted
in your aunt and uncle and cousins who were driving in from northern Minnesota being
so late that they missed dinner – but still in time to go sledding the next day
when the sun came up. That time at music
camp when someone told a really funny story when you had just put a spoonful of
cream of broccoli soup in your mouth. That
time when your brother sat down at the table and everyone saw for the first
time his pierced ear and Dad went through the roof. Those are just a few of my memorable
meals. But we all have meals like
that.
On
this night Jesus was gathering once again with his friends to share a meal. But
this meal we remember. And as we
remember this meal we remember who we are.
The passage from John tells us that at some point during the meal, Jesus
“got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around
himself” and prepares to wash his disciples feet.[2] But he has barely begun this object lesson when
Simon Peter interrupts him to ask, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?”[3]
Jesus is gentle and responds to Peter telling him, this may not make sense to
you know, but one day it will.[4] Not satisfied with this answer, Peter says, “You
will never wash my feet.”[5] Jesus urges him to allow it, even suggesting
that their relationship will be severed if Peter does not accept.[6] Seemingly convinced, not only does Peter acquiesce
to the foot washing but insists on having his hands and his head washed as
well.[7]
A
blogger named Laura Darling wrote about this very exchange in a post she called
“what to do when someone totally wrecks your lesson plan.” And, I think she got it just right. She
writes:
“So there you are. You
have this great lesson planned. It’s interactive. It’s experiential. It conveys
a significant point in a memorable way. Everything seems to be going along smoothly,
when suddenly, one of the class members goes off script, balks at the very
action that you’re doing, and attempts to hijack the whole situation, taking it
in a completely different direction. What do you do?”[8]
Teachers,
parents, grandparents. . . perhaps this is a familiar scenario to you. What do
you do? Well, if you are Jesus, you
respond with compassion. Taking each
question and each protest as they come and continuing with the lesson as
planned. I think of all the times in
John’s gospel when we read the words, “come and see.”[9] Isn’t that close to Jesus’ first response to
Peter: “you do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.”[10] Just journey with me. Don’t try to make sense
of it now. Don’t try to explain it. Just come and see. Just experience it. For those of us who have been at this for
several years – decades in some cases – it feels as though there are always more
questions. And yet, the answer is the
same. Just come and see. Just experience. Take it in with all your senses – the sound
of water being poured into a basin of water, the touch of a neighbor in the
passing of the peace, the taste and the smell of the bread and the wine, the
sight of Jesus in one another’s faces.
Come and see.
Our
bishop says that Lent ends at sundown on Maundy Thursday but it will take us three
full days “to begin to remember, to begin to unforget” who we are. I think Bishop Jeff Lee is on to something. But, I
think he’s got the timeline wrong. I
think we gather for these three days every year because we may never fully understand who we are. The bread and the wine are the same. The washing of one another’s feet is the
same. The stripping of the altar, the departing
in darkness and silence. It is all the same.
But you and I are always different, we are always becoming and we need
always to be reminded. So just come and
see. Just experience. And in so doing, we will begin to remember
again who we are.
[1] Jeffrey D. Lee, “Remembering Who We Are,” Preparing for the Paschal Feast A Morning of Reflection, Eucharist & Blessing of Chrism for All, Episcopal Diocese of Chicago, April 11, 2017.
[2]
John 13:4.
[3]
John 13:6b.
[4]
John 13:7.
[5]
John 13:8a.
[6]
John 13:8b.
[7] John
13:9.
[9] Cf.
John 1:39, 1:46, 4:29, 11:34.
[10]
John 13:7.
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