We have gathered here this evening to recall in our hearts and minds the events that occurred on Thursday of what the church calls Holy Week, the last week in the life of our Lord. We have come to commemorate his final acts of love and passion. After a period of little more than three years, his ministry was drawing to an end. One-third of all the events that we have about Jesus' life occurred during this week, reminding us of the great significance of these last days. Soon, very soon, his living example would be taken away from those whom he had been teaching to carry on his mission.
As we look back, using scripture to enlighten us, we cannot help but feel the strangeness of the air around us as we relive those final hours. Jesus had taught lessons in loving others, no matter who they were. And that was how he lived his life. Jesus had taught lessons about turning to God the Father in prayer. And that he did often. He taught lessons on being forgiving. And he forgave even sinners. Even on this night, he showed forgiveness to the one who was about to betray him and turn him over to those who feared and hated him. Jesus taught and portrayed for his disciples what it was that God wanted from all of humankind. Obedience. Obedience to God's will.
On this night the disciples have gathered in a home, whose we are not sure, but we do know that it had a furnished second floor. Here, they participated in the seder meal, one of the highlights of the Passover week. The Passover festival, of course, had been done for centuries before Jesus came on the scene. If you participated in the model seder last Saturday afternoon, you know that it commemorated that time when the Jews were in bondage in Egypt. Moses warned Pharaoh to let his people go, but Pharaoh hardened his heart. So God sent a death over the land of Egypt, but miraculously this death passed over the homes of the Jews. Thus, the season of Passover was given birth.
The meal begins. Small talk flows, but then the volume and intensity of feeling rise. John tells us that a dispute has broken out among the disciples. The question surfaces: "Who is the greatest disciple?" All join in, "I am the greatest." You can bet that Peter has his say and Matthew, for he is vocal also, and Bartholomew and John. Each in turn extols his own virtue, telling why it is he who should sit in glory at God's side.
Each, except one. Slowly and silently Jesus stands to his feet. His face shows the pain he feels that even now the disciples do not understand. His steps away from the table are slow and deliberate. He loosens the belt which holds his robe, and carefully lays it aside. He picks up the towel lying there and wraps it around himself. He looks like the Messiah no longer -- now, he looks like a slave.
As he approaches each of the disciples, they all watch with a look of surprise and confusion. One by one each disciples is captured by quiet. Silence is all that can be heard. Now the sounds pick up. Each man hears his own heavy breathing caused by the electric-like awe which engulfs the room. The splashing of the water being poured in the basin sounds like a great rushing river. It is so quiet.
Each disciple swallows hard and tries to get hold of himself. "This cannot be happening," each thinks to himself. But it is. And none of the disciples verbally objects to what he is doing, until Jesus approaches Simon Peter. We read the discourse that took place between Jesus and Peter in our Gospel reading this evening. We will hear them again as we participate in another part of our service. Suffice it to say, the disciples were unable to fathom the meaning of Jesus' action. They could not see their Master, their Teacher, in the role of a servant or common slave. No Messiah would every do such a thing.
But Jesus did.
He returned to his place at the table when he was done.
At the conclusion of that meal Jesus himself added two more symbols. He took a loaf and broke it and gave it to his disciples saying: Take eat, this is my body which is broken for you. do this in remembrance of me. Then he took a cup with wine. He drank from it and gave it to his disciples saying, "Drink ye all of this, for this is my blood which is shed for you and for many for the forgiveness of sin." Thus was born our sacrament of the Lord's Supper, out of the experience of an ancient Jewish custom.
This last supper has forever been impressed upon our minds by a famous
painting by Leonardo da Vinci, The scene that he depicted was that moment when Jesus announces his impending betrayal. The disciples are looking at one another with great shock, all, that is, except Judas, who refuses to look Jesus in the face and clutches his money to his breast. I wonder as we take a look at those disciples around the table if we can see ourselves. For, to me, they represent all that is good and bad about our humanity.
Maybe we can see ourselves in Matthew, a man who had a brilliant, analytical mind, but who initially used it for self rather than God. He reminds us of just how far many of us are willing to go to advance our own personal ambition.
But when Matthew came over to Jesus he came all the way. Now he was using his education to keep an account of the Master's teachings . Matthew reminds us that our talents are God given, but we must chose to use our talents toward the right end, that is, to enhance humanity.
Maybe we see ourselves in James and John. They remind us of the pride and the ego that is within us all. Although it was their mother who went to Jesus to do their bidding for them, James and John remind us that if we are to follow Jesus we must first surrender ego. We must decrease so that he might increase. We must remember the words of Jesus: He who would be greatest among you, must be a servant.
Or maybe we see ourselves in Nathaniel. He reminds us of the prejudice that is in our land and in our hearts. When he first heard about Jesus he was quoted as saying, "Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?" Nathaniel would remind us that if we are to free others we must first be free ourselves-- free of the prejudices that separate us from others.
Certainly we can see a part of ourselves in Thomas. Like Thomas, we, too,
long for proof, for something tangible that we can cling to when our experience of God begins to fail. But Thomas would remind us that resurrection faith is not something that can be neatly wrapped up in a package. To follow the Master we
must be able to echo the words: Lord, I believe, help thou my unbelief.
There was Simon the Zealot; he was one who hated with a passion. He reminds me that that is an emotion of which we are not beyond ourselves. The zealots wanted the Romans out and the Jews in. They were terrorists that said that the end justifies the means. Simon would remind us that if we are to follow the master we must look at his total message, even the parts that say: Love your enemy. Pray for those who persecute you.
There is Andrew. It was he who brought his brother Simon Peter to Jesus, but never does he get the notoriety. He always lives under the shadow of that great man. Never does he enter into the inner circle, although he brought them all to Jesus, and he had been fishing with them since they were boys. Andrew reminds us that if we are to follow the Master, we cannot insist in always being in the limelight. There will be times when we must defer to others in humility and for the sake of unity.
There was Judas. If we do not see Judas in ourselves it is because we are not looking closely enough. He believed that Jesus really did have the power to bring about the Kingdom of God, but he did not understand why he kept waiting. Judas, therefore, contrived a situation in which Jesus would be forced to show his power. He would turn him over to the Jews and Romans. Judas would remind us that if we are to follow the Master we must remember that our schedule is not always God's schedule and that our means are not always God's means. We see with the vision of the immediate. God sees with the vision of eternity. God knows. We only think that we know.
And then there is Simon Peter: How impetuous he was, always willing to look before he leaped. When Jesus told the disciples that they would all fall away, it was Simon Peter who shouted Lord, thou they all fall away, I will never leave your side. But Simon Peter did fall away. He denied Jesus not once but three times. He would remind us that to follow the master we must count the cost of discipleship.
As we come forward this evening to participate in this ancient sacrament of the church, may we confess before God that we are all of the disciples, with all of their frailties and sinfulness. But we are also like them in our sincere desire to follow the Christ. My prayer is that through the sacrament this evening the power of God may re-instill in you a sense of mission and remind you who you are--a child of His. And then we may truly learn what it means to Love One Another.
Amen.