Maundy Thursday

John 13: 1-17, 31b-35

Dear Friends in Christ, Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

As the oldest of three kids, I am the keeper of many things…rules, traditions, ‘the way things ought to be done,’ but what I’m not is the keeper of memories. Time and time again in recent get togethers my parents or siblings will talk about an event and I will stare back at them blankly…not a clue what they are talking about. It appears that from about age 15-19 my body was there but I was mentally off somewhere else. Of course some of this goes both ways…memories are like that. We all tune into a different piece of the event or conversation. I imagine you do too. Some memories just fade away. Some go away for our own protection. Some we cling to so as to not to let go of a loved one, or a moment that we can never recapture. We know how hard it is to watch someone lose their memory, how impatient we can grow hearing the same memories told over and over again. And how important it is for those memories to be shared.

We as God’s children, never tire of hearing God’s stories…each year they come around again and again…so rich, so vivid, so meaningful we catch something new each time. Every week we gather and hear the words, “Do this in remembrance of me…” Jesus’ command to his disciples at the last supper…Eat this bread, drink this wine to remember me. But there is more depth to this phrase than just visually recalling the last supper, or to reenact the event….there is more to it than an artists’ version of that meal.

To re-member literally means to take what has broken apart—fragmented, scattered--and put it back together….While it is only Thursday, we know the story. Friday is coming. Jesus’ brutal and horrific death. We can see Christ being broken apart. We can see his open wounds, his crushed feet and hands…

“Do this in remembrance of me.” In the meal of holy communion, we do not simply recall or reflect on Christ. God literally re-members the broken body of Christ. As God’s baptized children, our lives are meant to put back together Christ in this world. We are the vessels God uses; it is our hands, our words, our feet, our hearts that become Christ’s here.

Before we can go into the world to do this, we gather for nourishment. Around this table we kneel and stand. We open our hands to receive what looks like a small wafer and a sip of wine…but what is actually the banquet feast of new life. It is enough to keep us going.

You and I, scattered, fragments, broken people, are put back together.

As individuals, sins forgiven. Weaknesses are strengthened. Pain is shared and healed. Hunger is eased. The empty places in us are filled in a bit more.

And as each of our lives are healed, Christ’s own life appears as we the community kneel elbow to elbow. Our relationships as spouses and friends-strengthened as we kneel side by side equal in our vulnerability of the outstretched hand. Child and parent finding common ground as their elbows bump each others.

One of the privileges for me of being a pastor is in serving communion. Because each time I see the power of God alive and at work in your lives. As pastors we are privileged to know people…and often times we really know them. We have seen people when the masks are off. We know the stories others will never hear. We have seen the sin and we have seen the saint—often in the same person…often in the same council meeting.

So as I place bread into hand after hand, I see God remembering Christ through our lives. Bringing all to the table. Of course it happens as we sit in the pew as well as we watch our brothers and sisters come to the railing. Church is where “those” people—the ones we would rather put in a box and label as being “what’s wrong with society” have a face and a place next to us. Rich. Poor. Educated. Uneducated. Rude. Polite. Museum Lover. Sports Fan. Democrat. Republican. Male. Female. Young. Old. Married. Single. Whatever we are and whatever we aren’t…we kneel side by side. Our hands stretch out the same. Here we remember Christ. We become Christ alive and at work in the world.

this man who: ate with sinners, loved the out cast, washed the dirty, forgave his enemies, spoke well of those who hated him, fed the hungry, healed the sick, clothed the naked, stood up for those who the world put down…who on his last night with his greatest friends washed their feet.

Most of us here know this part of the story…If someone arrived all hot and dusty at your house, if you were a good host you would give your visitor a basin of water to wash their feet or you would have your servant do it…but you would never. But Jesus washes the disciples’ feet. It is not the first time he does something that seems to be beneath his dignity.

This strange story takes place at Passover and he has a place of honor. He is the Master, Lord, and Teacher. He is the most important person in the room. He is the one that others should wait upon, hand and foot.

And as the scene unfolds, John the Gospel writer gives us a good long look—he shows the action in slow motion. John replays the moment when Jesus gets up from the table. The moment when he lays down his outer robe, and ties a towel around himself. The moment when Jesus pours water in a basin and begins to wash the disciples’ feet. He wipes their feet with the towel that is tied around his waist. And he keeps on washing. Peter’s objections do not stop him. He knows his betrayer is there at the table, but Judas does not stop him. Jesus continues this grunge work until he has washed every foot. Then he puts on his outer robe and returns to the table. And he says, “do you know what I have done to you?”

He has given us an example, that turns life inside out—from living for ourselves, to living for others. And there’s more. He has given us a new commandment. Jesus says: “A new commandment I give you, 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, that you love one another.” (13:34, 35) Servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sends them. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them.” (13:16,17) When Jesus says, “love one another,” this is not a mere suggestion. Not just an option. It is a commandment. A mandate. It is marching orders. Washing orders. Love one another, as I have loved you.

The day before he dies, Jesus washes the disciples’ feet. We hear his question: “do you know what I have done to you?” We see his example, and we hear his commandment. But like some traveler on the dusty road, we are not there yet. We forget. We place a hedge around our life, the lives of those dear to us, protecting us from the world. We bob and weave…making excuses for our lack of service. Our lack of foot washing. We forget the defining piece of who we are…that we are to love the world. That our main task is to bring new life out of dead places. That we are servants. We forget.

We forget because it is a tall order. We inevitably fall short of the goal…in fact we’d never be able to even try if God hadn’t used this same man, this same life to put us back together. Before we could become Christ’s body…..we must be put back together ourselves. And so while we were still sinners, Christ died for us….healing us, claiming us, forgiving us. So God in one minute is healing us and in the next asking us to heal others…in one breathe God is forgiving us, so that we can forgive others… it is a never ending promise that is nourished and nurtured right here…today/night, in this meal.

Today/night be aware of how we gather, how we came, who is among us…With each sip of wine, with each swallow of bread…Christ enters our lives. Give thanks for the ways God works…weaving people into our life…helping us remember whose we are. You and I reach out our hands, we come, because in this meal, we have seen and felt the re-membering of Christ. In this meal we see the body of the risen Christ—love poured out for all.

“Do this for the remembrance of me.” It is God’s command, it is God’s promise, it is God’s prayer for you, for me, for the world. While our memory may be selective, our memory may change and fade…we’ll change up the story and edit to our liking—trust that God remembers his promises. In this meal God promises to make us whole and for at least one brief moment around this railing…we are.