In the form of a servant
Commentary
The evening service on Maundy Thursday can be one of the most moving of the church year. In many congregations a service of Tenebrae concludes the evening and the worshippers depart in silence. In a former parish we introduced the tradition of placing on the communion table a rough hewn cross made from a Christmas tree that had been used in the church the previous year. Just the contemplation of it triggered deep and moving thoughts.
Some congregations gather for supper in the church dining room and incorporate the communion service into the meal. It was a real meal that evening and I sometimes feel that we have wrongly detached the communion service from that context. Table conversation and conviviality is not inappropriate to such a meal.
How you and I envision the scene that night has been influenced by Leonardo da Vinci's mural painting of the Last Supper. We forget that Leonardo's aim went far beyond a literal reproduction of the scene. He crowded the disciples together on one side of a table. He condensed the scene in the interest of revealing the disciples to us in terms of their individual personalities and their relationship to Jesus. The face of Judas, for example, is shadowed and defiant.
Luke's mention of a large room (Luke 22:12) suggests accommodations for a larger group than the immediate circle of the twelve. To conclude that it was a farewell banquet including men and women is not unreasonable. I have long been haunted by the thought that the way we have reduced the Eucharist to those tiny glasses and little pieces of bread is a far cry from the joyful feast of the people of God, a feast around the table that spans the ages.
Sermon Seeds In The Lessons
Exodus 12:1-4 (5-10, 11-14)
Whether or not the Last Supper was a Passover meal is a matter of ongoing debate among scholars. John does not so consider it. In the Fourth Gospel Jesus is the lamb who offers himself. The meal bears the stamp of the originality of Jesus. It is his prophetic sign to us of what he is up and about.
It is in his bread chapter (John 6) that the evangelist weaves in unmistakable echoes of both the exodus and wilderness experiences of Israel. The Old Testament reading for this evening reminds us of those associations as we think about the liberation that God initiates in and through the mission of Jesus. The story of the new exodus brings into question the Divine violence attributed to God in Exodus 12:12. God is not a maker of crosses for others. He takes the cross upon his own heart.
1 Corinthians 11:23-26
This reading can be used as the words of institution in the evening communion service. If chosen for the basis of a sermon or meditation this would be an appropriate evening to consider the symbolism of the pledging cup and what drinking from it with Jesus entails in terms of the promise to let our life energies run with his in the service of his kingdom.
John 13:1-17, 31b-35
The introductory verses of our reading contain words that catch the attention and trigger thought. Immediately after telling us that Jesus loved his disciples to the end, John, for example, tells who is there with treachery on his mind. Later conversation reveals that Jesus knew betrayal was in the offing. He knew human nature and could pick up the vibes. Leonardo's mural has traditionally been interpreted as depicting the moment when Jesus announced the presence of a betrayer. That may well be correct for Leonardo himself said the aim of his art was to reveal the intentions of the human heart.
The thought for us to brood over is the way Jesus treated Judas. Judas also was loved to the end. He too was served at table. He also had his feet washed by Jesus. I doubt that I could deal with a treacherous friend the way Jesus dealt with Judas. How about you? We sing "What a friend we have in Jesus." Reverse the thought. What kind of friends does Jesus have in me, in you? Maundy Thursday is a good time for self-examination.
Another set of words that catch the attention is this comment. "And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God, and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him." This is a heady bit of consciousness. Here's a question: How would you act if you were God? Would you dish out some bolts of lightning? Here is a Johannine picture of God in action. At this point John's theology and Paul flows together. "Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave" (Philippians 2:5-7).
An historic task of the servant has been to do the dirty work: carrying out the trash, laundering the soiled linen, cleaning the toilets. Washing the feet of guests who came in off the dusty roads was an act of hospitality done by a menial servant. We may recognize the necessity of such vocations, but we do not covet such occupations.
Water symbolism bubbles up throughout John's gospel. It surfaces in our reading. Jesus pours out water much as he poured out his own life. He responds to a human need. Dirt on the road is one thing. We react differently to dirt on the body. There is something about grime and filth on the body that repels us.
What about inner dirt and defilement? Outward bathing alone will not heal us inwardly as the paralytic by the pool of Bethzatha learned (John 5). But there is a delicate linkage between the outer and the inner. A pleasant bath at the end of a hot and grimy day can refresh the spirit. Inner turmoil can be reflected in outward appearance. By way of such interconnections our thoughts can be drawn to him who comes to serve us and cleanse us from the dirt we carry within: the stain of guilt, violent emotions, twisted thoughts, soiled values, corrosive hates and addictions. John witnesses to the cleansing that comes into our lives through him who poured out his life's blood that we might become whole and clean, thoroughly washed. He is the cleansing and life-giving water. John's water symbolism emerges again in his narrative of the death and exaltation of Jesus. "... one of the soldiers pierced his ear with a spear, and at once blood and water came out" (John 19:34).
Some congregations gather for supper in the church dining room and incorporate the communion service into the meal. It was a real meal that evening and I sometimes feel that we have wrongly detached the communion service from that context. Table conversation and conviviality is not inappropriate to such a meal.
How you and I envision the scene that night has been influenced by Leonardo da Vinci's mural painting of the Last Supper. We forget that Leonardo's aim went far beyond a literal reproduction of the scene. He crowded the disciples together on one side of a table. He condensed the scene in the interest of revealing the disciples to us in terms of their individual personalities and their relationship to Jesus. The face of Judas, for example, is shadowed and defiant.
Luke's mention of a large room (Luke 22:12) suggests accommodations for a larger group than the immediate circle of the twelve. To conclude that it was a farewell banquet including men and women is not unreasonable. I have long been haunted by the thought that the way we have reduced the Eucharist to those tiny glasses and little pieces of bread is a far cry from the joyful feast of the people of God, a feast around the table that spans the ages.
Sermon Seeds In The Lessons
Exodus 12:1-4 (5-10, 11-14)
Whether or not the Last Supper was a Passover meal is a matter of ongoing debate among scholars. John does not so consider it. In the Fourth Gospel Jesus is the lamb who offers himself. The meal bears the stamp of the originality of Jesus. It is his prophetic sign to us of what he is up and about.
It is in his bread chapter (John 6) that the evangelist weaves in unmistakable echoes of both the exodus and wilderness experiences of Israel. The Old Testament reading for this evening reminds us of those associations as we think about the liberation that God initiates in and through the mission of Jesus. The story of the new exodus brings into question the Divine violence attributed to God in Exodus 12:12. God is not a maker of crosses for others. He takes the cross upon his own heart.
1 Corinthians 11:23-26
This reading can be used as the words of institution in the evening communion service. If chosen for the basis of a sermon or meditation this would be an appropriate evening to consider the symbolism of the pledging cup and what drinking from it with Jesus entails in terms of the promise to let our life energies run with his in the service of his kingdom.
John 13:1-17, 31b-35
The introductory verses of our reading contain words that catch the attention and trigger thought. Immediately after telling us that Jesus loved his disciples to the end, John, for example, tells who is there with treachery on his mind. Later conversation reveals that Jesus knew betrayal was in the offing. He knew human nature and could pick up the vibes. Leonardo's mural has traditionally been interpreted as depicting the moment when Jesus announced the presence of a betrayer. That may well be correct for Leonardo himself said the aim of his art was to reveal the intentions of the human heart.
The thought for us to brood over is the way Jesus treated Judas. Judas also was loved to the end. He too was served at table. He also had his feet washed by Jesus. I doubt that I could deal with a treacherous friend the way Jesus dealt with Judas. How about you? We sing "What a friend we have in Jesus." Reverse the thought. What kind of friends does Jesus have in me, in you? Maundy Thursday is a good time for self-examination.
Another set of words that catch the attention is this comment. "And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God, and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him." This is a heady bit of consciousness. Here's a question: How would you act if you were God? Would you dish out some bolts of lightning? Here is a Johannine picture of God in action. At this point John's theology and Paul flows together. "Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave" (Philippians 2:5-7).
An historic task of the servant has been to do the dirty work: carrying out the trash, laundering the soiled linen, cleaning the toilets. Washing the feet of guests who came in off the dusty roads was an act of hospitality done by a menial servant. We may recognize the necessity of such vocations, but we do not covet such occupations.
Water symbolism bubbles up throughout John's gospel. It surfaces in our reading. Jesus pours out water much as he poured out his own life. He responds to a human need. Dirt on the road is one thing. We react differently to dirt on the body. There is something about grime and filth on the body that repels us.
What about inner dirt and defilement? Outward bathing alone will not heal us inwardly as the paralytic by the pool of Bethzatha learned (John 5). But there is a delicate linkage between the outer and the inner. A pleasant bath at the end of a hot and grimy day can refresh the spirit. Inner turmoil can be reflected in outward appearance. By way of such interconnections our thoughts can be drawn to him who comes to serve us and cleanse us from the dirt we carry within: the stain of guilt, violent emotions, twisted thoughts, soiled values, corrosive hates and addictions. John witnesses to the cleansing that comes into our lives through him who poured out his life's blood that we might become whole and clean, thoroughly washed. He is the cleansing and life-giving water. John's water symbolism emerges again in his narrative of the death and exaltation of Jesus. "... one of the soldiers pierced his ear with a spear, and at once blood and water came out" (John 19:34).
