A single family
Commentary
Object:
When Christians come together to celebrate Maundy Thursday, we are entering into the Hebrew calendar and the Hebrew Passover celebration. The consequences of this conjunction have been to muddle two narratives in ways we have not really understood. Jesus is not acting in a bubble when he invites his disciples to this feast he has been longing to share with them. He is using the ancient Passover celebration to establish a new covenant with his disciples, but it is based within the covenant declared by Moses at Sinai. So when we celebrate the Last Supper, we come to God through that ancient celebration, in which we become part of the chosen people of God.
Exodus 12:1-4 (5-10) 11-14
Let us first look at the Passover as it is described in the selection from Exodus. Here, we see that the Jewish religious year begins with this festival. While the Israelites' secular calendar begins in the autumn (Rosh Hashanah, "the head of the year" in Hebrew), the religious calendar begins with Passover -- just as the Christian church calendar begins with Advent, while the Western world calendar begins January first.
This accounts for the variability of the date for the Easter events. The Hebrew calendar was largely a lunar calendar in ancient Israel. When the people were settled in the land, rather than living a nomadic life they had to keep track of planting and harvest times, so they made efforts to correlate the lunar calendar with the solar calendar. The ways they worked out to do this are too complicated to go into here, but the information is available on the internet if you want to have the details of how this was worked out.
The date is less important than the meaning of the ritual. The Passover is not merely an annual remembrance of the mighty works of the Lord on behalf of the people. In its structure, it unites the people of Israel in a single family. It brings us into direct relationship with God. It makes neighbors sit down at a holy meal together (vv. 3-4), whether they are related or not, whether they get along well or not, since they will have a good deal of meat from a year-old ram. We have to suspect that God is being exceptionally sneaky here to get us to overcome possible alienation, even animosity between neighbors.
This was the defining ceremony for the Hebrews and still is today for the Jews. It has changed over the centuries, however. For example, modern Jews may not eat lamb at Passover, since the temple no longer exists for the ritual slaughter, making chicken a favorite Passover meat today; also, the ritual of the meal was very simple in its inception but has been elaborated with recitation of scripture, special songs and questions from the children at the meal, which are answered by the eldest man present. In this way, the Passover explains the faith history of the people of God, passing it down the generations. It is not simply a remembrance of the mighty acts of God in the past, but a reliving of those acts, and a participation in the Exodus, which sets the people of God aside as signs of the presence of God in our world.
The Passover is also a blood ritual. Since the law states that blood is life, the life force in every living thing leaves the body as the blood drains out, and blood has great power in this and similar rituals. God tells Moses and Aaron that the houses of the Hebrews must be marked with some of the blood of the slaughtered lamb on both sides and the top of the doorframe. This marks the houses of those participating in the meal, so that the angel of death will pass over their homes when it comes to claim the firstborn of the Egyptians. Of course, the blood of the original ritual is not included in the modern ceremony.
If you are interested in learning more about the Passover as it is celebrated today, an excellent resource is A Passover Haggadah, with commentary by Elie Wiesel (Touchstone Book published by Simon and Schuster, 1993).
1 Corinthians 11:23-26
Paul tells the Corinthians about what Jesus did during this last supper with his disciples, but he does not couch it in the symbols of the Jewish Passover. We can, therefore, be fairly certain that he is writing to a Gentile congregation. Even so, we can see how two elements of the Seder have been used for the new covenant.
First, there is the bread. This is not yeast bread; it has to be unleavened for the Passover. The unleavened bread is called matsa (or matzoh), which resembles the Hebrew word for "he found." At the Passover, the father of the house hides a piece of matsa bread somewhere for the children to find. The one who finds it wins a small prize. Did Jesus use that piece of unleavened bread to pass around for each person to eat? It seems likely that he did.
Then Jesus takes a cup of wine in his hand. At the Seder there is one extra place at the table, with a cup of wine poured for whoever might join the feast and sit there. But the place is set especially for Elijah. After the matsa is found, one of the children goes to the door to see if anyone is there, hoping to see Elijah, because the scriptures say that Elijah must come before the Messiah. This question comes up with the disciples also, and Jesus answers it by saying that John the Baptist was Elijah.
This cup is probably the one that Jesus used that night. Elijah has come and gone, if we believe Jesus, and in this action Jesus is claiming that he is the long-awaited Messiah. In fact, the gospel of John calls him "Lord," a title ascribed to God by the Jews. This is a carry over from the opening of the gospel, in which John has said poetically that the word, which is God, has come into the world in the flesh. So it is fitting to use this cup. There is nothing to wait for, no one else to come and drink the cup. Jesus is the one they have been waiting for.
The words Jesus uses are reported by Paul. We know that this is part of the creed Paul has been preaching. He begins by saying: "I received [these words] from the Lord what I also passed on to you..." And then he relates the formula by which Jesus transformed this ancient ritual into the core ritual of Christians all over the world. "This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me." Then "this cup is the new covenant in my blood"; in other words: Jesus' blood supersedes the blood of the lamb used by the Hebrews.
This substitution of Jesus for the lamb really gets misunderstood in many quarters. The Passover lamb is not a sin offering. It is, rather, an offering from the family of God. An invitation to the Passover table is an invitation to become part of that family. It is not sacrificed to cover our sins. It is an invitation to turn our backs on all that separates us from God and to return, like the prodigal son of the parable, to the good graces of the family for which we were made.
This is why it is a terrible thing to come to this meal unprepared, with animosity in our hearts and broken relationships all around us. When we come to this table, we come with those neighbors with whom we may have been fighting. We come to our family, scattered though our blood relatives may be. We come with relationships at work that may have become strained, horrible bosses, and damaged coworkers. We come broken inside as well -- depressed, afraid, lonely, angry, without hope, betrayed. If we wish to become truly part of the household of faith, we have to lay all that aside. And that may feel as though Jesus has died because of our personal sins, but that is not what is happening in the event described by Paul.
For Paul, the mystery lies in the next verse (v. 26): "Whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes." It is striking that Paul does not say "the Lord's death and resurrection" since he has said that the resurrection is so central to our faith. But here we focus not on resurrection but on "the Lord's death." Just as the Passover lamb is slain for the protection of the people of God from the angel of death, so Jesus is slain. Paul has Jesus identify himself with that Passover lamb. This is an idea that goes against much of what is preached about Jesus taking our place on that cross, and many sermons could be preached on these ideas. What is required of us, if Jesus died for our kinship rather than our sins?
John 13:1-17, 31b-35
The lectionary gospel this year points also to this quality of belonging. John says, "Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end." Even though Judas had already decided "to betray Jesus," he also is included in the invitation to share this meal.
The profound meaning of what follows should make us all uneasy. Jesus is the master in this place. The men here are his disciples. He gets up from the table, takes off his outer clothing, which is undoubtedly clothing meant for a feast, and ties a towel around his waist like an apron. In other words, he is ready to work. Then he pours water into a basin and begins to wash his disciples' feet. In order to understand Peter's reaction to what Jesus does, we must understand the rigidly hierarchic nature of their world.
In Jesus' world slavery was common, both to the Romans and the Jews. Jews might sell themselves into slavery -- not permanently, but like an indentured servant to another Jew -- to pay off debts or to support the family. (The Romans, on the other hand had a permanent slave class.) So people were used to being cared for one way or another by slaves.
Among slaves there was also a hierarchy of social status, and the very lowest rung was occupied by the door slave. When guests arrived, no matter how far they had traveled, whether down the street or across the country, their feet were sure to be dirty, because the most common footwear was sandals. Furthermore, only those who could afford to fix or replace their sandals would wear them to walk any distance. The poorer folk would tie their sandals together and carry them over their shoulder until they arrived at their destination. Therefore everyone's feet were coated with dirt and sand.
This is where the door slave came in. He came with a basin of clean water. He knelt down in front of each person and washed and dried their feet before they came further into the house. It was a serious insult to not offer this service in the better homes where they had slaves. Even in common homes, one of the children would come and wash the feet of guests, especially if the guest was one the family especially wished to honor.
This is reflected in the story of the "sinful woman" in Luke 7:42-47. Simon, here named as a Pharisee, has invited Jesus to his home. If this is the same Simon as mentioned in Mark and Matthew, he may be someone Jesus healed of leprosy. Yet he objects to this woman washing Jesus' feet, thinking that if Jesus were really a prophet he would know what kind of a person with whom he's dealing. Jesus rebukes him, pointing out that he was not offered water to wash with when he arrived at the house. Jesus says that this shows that Simon has little sense of owing anything and so little gratitude; while this woman has been washing his feet with her tears, showing how grateful she is for having been forgiven.
Application
If you have ever experienced a foot washing or even a pedicure, you already know how wonderful -- and humbling -- it is to have someone else clean your feet. As a Christian service, it is an immeasurable expression of the love of God, whether you are doing the washing or receiving it. Somehow barriers are broken, building an intimate moment, even with people you may not know well. In Jesus' case, this is a further expression of his love for his disciples. As the hymn "Jesu, Jesu," says, he is the "master who acts as a slave to them."
The one person who objects is Simon Peter. "You shall never wash my feet," he declares. This is too much in Peter's eyes. Jesus has lowered himself to an impossible level in comparison to himself. He cannot have Jesus kneeling in front of him. Jesus responds, "You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand." When Peter continues to object, Jesus adds, "Unless I wash you, you have no part with me."
It's not so much that we have to acknowledge that our feet are unlovely. It is that we need to be willing to lower ourselves the way Jesus lowered himself. We have to stop arguing about which of us disciples is higher than the other, which among us is the greatest, who gets to decide where things will go in the church kitchen, and which of us gets to decide who is worthy to be a trustee. Instead, we "also should wash one another's feet." Jesus says he is setting an example that we should do as Jesus has done for the original disciples. Otherwise, he goes on to say, we will be acting as though we are greater than "the one who sent us" -- that is, Jesus. How much dissension and acrimony would be averted if we would only remember these words!
If your church hasn't had this tradition, you may find that there is great resistance to trying such a thing. People become extremely shy about letting others see their corns and calluses or fret that their feet may smell. There will probably be those who, like Peter, say "no way!" After all, in our society, children are washed, the sick are washed. No one washes another person unless that person is unable to do for themselves. This is a very parental, even maternal, thing to do for and to other people. There is an instinct in us that avoids such intimacy, especially in public.
But using this ritual can also go a long way toward reuniting members of a congregation that has been facing big challenges. It is good for us pastors to participate, not only as the one who washes others' feet, but also as one who receives foot washing from the people we serve. It allows people to minister to their minister, which can have enormous effect on the laity, not to mention we pastors.
Mahatma Gandhi took this teaching of Jesus and annoyed even his supporters by taking a tea tray away from a servant and pouring the tea himself and taking the cups to his friends. Eventually, he made the decision to wear only what the poorest of the poor wore at that time in India -- a cotton loincloth and a simple length of cotton to wrap around his shoulders. Gandhi said he had learned this from Jesus, who washed his disciples' feet.
"Unless I wash you, you have no part with me." Foot washing becomes akin to baptism. But we have all been baptized, haven't we? Why then this ceremony? To be re-baptized? To become as little children (as Jesus said, we must become like children if we wish to enter the kingdom of God)? To reflect on our helplessness without Jesus? Or all of the above?
Exodus 12:1-4 (5-10) 11-14
Let us first look at the Passover as it is described in the selection from Exodus. Here, we see that the Jewish religious year begins with this festival. While the Israelites' secular calendar begins in the autumn (Rosh Hashanah, "the head of the year" in Hebrew), the religious calendar begins with Passover -- just as the Christian church calendar begins with Advent, while the Western world calendar begins January first.
This accounts for the variability of the date for the Easter events. The Hebrew calendar was largely a lunar calendar in ancient Israel. When the people were settled in the land, rather than living a nomadic life they had to keep track of planting and harvest times, so they made efforts to correlate the lunar calendar with the solar calendar. The ways they worked out to do this are too complicated to go into here, but the information is available on the internet if you want to have the details of how this was worked out.
The date is less important than the meaning of the ritual. The Passover is not merely an annual remembrance of the mighty works of the Lord on behalf of the people. In its structure, it unites the people of Israel in a single family. It brings us into direct relationship with God. It makes neighbors sit down at a holy meal together (vv. 3-4), whether they are related or not, whether they get along well or not, since they will have a good deal of meat from a year-old ram. We have to suspect that God is being exceptionally sneaky here to get us to overcome possible alienation, even animosity between neighbors.
This was the defining ceremony for the Hebrews and still is today for the Jews. It has changed over the centuries, however. For example, modern Jews may not eat lamb at Passover, since the temple no longer exists for the ritual slaughter, making chicken a favorite Passover meat today; also, the ritual of the meal was very simple in its inception but has been elaborated with recitation of scripture, special songs and questions from the children at the meal, which are answered by the eldest man present. In this way, the Passover explains the faith history of the people of God, passing it down the generations. It is not simply a remembrance of the mighty acts of God in the past, but a reliving of those acts, and a participation in the Exodus, which sets the people of God aside as signs of the presence of God in our world.
The Passover is also a blood ritual. Since the law states that blood is life, the life force in every living thing leaves the body as the blood drains out, and blood has great power in this and similar rituals. God tells Moses and Aaron that the houses of the Hebrews must be marked with some of the blood of the slaughtered lamb on both sides and the top of the doorframe. This marks the houses of those participating in the meal, so that the angel of death will pass over their homes when it comes to claim the firstborn of the Egyptians. Of course, the blood of the original ritual is not included in the modern ceremony.
If you are interested in learning more about the Passover as it is celebrated today, an excellent resource is A Passover Haggadah, with commentary by Elie Wiesel (Touchstone Book published by Simon and Schuster, 1993).
1 Corinthians 11:23-26
Paul tells the Corinthians about what Jesus did during this last supper with his disciples, but he does not couch it in the symbols of the Jewish Passover. We can, therefore, be fairly certain that he is writing to a Gentile congregation. Even so, we can see how two elements of the Seder have been used for the new covenant.
First, there is the bread. This is not yeast bread; it has to be unleavened for the Passover. The unleavened bread is called matsa (or matzoh), which resembles the Hebrew word for "he found." At the Passover, the father of the house hides a piece of matsa bread somewhere for the children to find. The one who finds it wins a small prize. Did Jesus use that piece of unleavened bread to pass around for each person to eat? It seems likely that he did.
Then Jesus takes a cup of wine in his hand. At the Seder there is one extra place at the table, with a cup of wine poured for whoever might join the feast and sit there. But the place is set especially for Elijah. After the matsa is found, one of the children goes to the door to see if anyone is there, hoping to see Elijah, because the scriptures say that Elijah must come before the Messiah. This question comes up with the disciples also, and Jesus answers it by saying that John the Baptist was Elijah.
This cup is probably the one that Jesus used that night. Elijah has come and gone, if we believe Jesus, and in this action Jesus is claiming that he is the long-awaited Messiah. In fact, the gospel of John calls him "Lord," a title ascribed to God by the Jews. This is a carry over from the opening of the gospel, in which John has said poetically that the word, which is God, has come into the world in the flesh. So it is fitting to use this cup. There is nothing to wait for, no one else to come and drink the cup. Jesus is the one they have been waiting for.
The words Jesus uses are reported by Paul. We know that this is part of the creed Paul has been preaching. He begins by saying: "I received [these words] from the Lord what I also passed on to you..." And then he relates the formula by which Jesus transformed this ancient ritual into the core ritual of Christians all over the world. "This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me." Then "this cup is the new covenant in my blood"; in other words: Jesus' blood supersedes the blood of the lamb used by the Hebrews.
This substitution of Jesus for the lamb really gets misunderstood in many quarters. The Passover lamb is not a sin offering. It is, rather, an offering from the family of God. An invitation to the Passover table is an invitation to become part of that family. It is not sacrificed to cover our sins. It is an invitation to turn our backs on all that separates us from God and to return, like the prodigal son of the parable, to the good graces of the family for which we were made.
This is why it is a terrible thing to come to this meal unprepared, with animosity in our hearts and broken relationships all around us. When we come to this table, we come with those neighbors with whom we may have been fighting. We come to our family, scattered though our blood relatives may be. We come with relationships at work that may have become strained, horrible bosses, and damaged coworkers. We come broken inside as well -- depressed, afraid, lonely, angry, without hope, betrayed. If we wish to become truly part of the household of faith, we have to lay all that aside. And that may feel as though Jesus has died because of our personal sins, but that is not what is happening in the event described by Paul.
For Paul, the mystery lies in the next verse (v. 26): "Whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes." It is striking that Paul does not say "the Lord's death and resurrection" since he has said that the resurrection is so central to our faith. But here we focus not on resurrection but on "the Lord's death." Just as the Passover lamb is slain for the protection of the people of God from the angel of death, so Jesus is slain. Paul has Jesus identify himself with that Passover lamb. This is an idea that goes against much of what is preached about Jesus taking our place on that cross, and many sermons could be preached on these ideas. What is required of us, if Jesus died for our kinship rather than our sins?
John 13:1-17, 31b-35
The lectionary gospel this year points also to this quality of belonging. John says, "Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end." Even though Judas had already decided "to betray Jesus," he also is included in the invitation to share this meal.
The profound meaning of what follows should make us all uneasy. Jesus is the master in this place. The men here are his disciples. He gets up from the table, takes off his outer clothing, which is undoubtedly clothing meant for a feast, and ties a towel around his waist like an apron. In other words, he is ready to work. Then he pours water into a basin and begins to wash his disciples' feet. In order to understand Peter's reaction to what Jesus does, we must understand the rigidly hierarchic nature of their world.
In Jesus' world slavery was common, both to the Romans and the Jews. Jews might sell themselves into slavery -- not permanently, but like an indentured servant to another Jew -- to pay off debts or to support the family. (The Romans, on the other hand had a permanent slave class.) So people were used to being cared for one way or another by slaves.
Among slaves there was also a hierarchy of social status, and the very lowest rung was occupied by the door slave. When guests arrived, no matter how far they had traveled, whether down the street or across the country, their feet were sure to be dirty, because the most common footwear was sandals. Furthermore, only those who could afford to fix or replace their sandals would wear them to walk any distance. The poorer folk would tie their sandals together and carry them over their shoulder until they arrived at their destination. Therefore everyone's feet were coated with dirt and sand.
This is where the door slave came in. He came with a basin of clean water. He knelt down in front of each person and washed and dried their feet before they came further into the house. It was a serious insult to not offer this service in the better homes where they had slaves. Even in common homes, one of the children would come and wash the feet of guests, especially if the guest was one the family especially wished to honor.
This is reflected in the story of the "sinful woman" in Luke 7:42-47. Simon, here named as a Pharisee, has invited Jesus to his home. If this is the same Simon as mentioned in Mark and Matthew, he may be someone Jesus healed of leprosy. Yet he objects to this woman washing Jesus' feet, thinking that if Jesus were really a prophet he would know what kind of a person with whom he's dealing. Jesus rebukes him, pointing out that he was not offered water to wash with when he arrived at the house. Jesus says that this shows that Simon has little sense of owing anything and so little gratitude; while this woman has been washing his feet with her tears, showing how grateful she is for having been forgiven.
Application
If you have ever experienced a foot washing or even a pedicure, you already know how wonderful -- and humbling -- it is to have someone else clean your feet. As a Christian service, it is an immeasurable expression of the love of God, whether you are doing the washing or receiving it. Somehow barriers are broken, building an intimate moment, even with people you may not know well. In Jesus' case, this is a further expression of his love for his disciples. As the hymn "Jesu, Jesu," says, he is the "master who acts as a slave to them."
The one person who objects is Simon Peter. "You shall never wash my feet," he declares. This is too much in Peter's eyes. Jesus has lowered himself to an impossible level in comparison to himself. He cannot have Jesus kneeling in front of him. Jesus responds, "You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand." When Peter continues to object, Jesus adds, "Unless I wash you, you have no part with me."
It's not so much that we have to acknowledge that our feet are unlovely. It is that we need to be willing to lower ourselves the way Jesus lowered himself. We have to stop arguing about which of us disciples is higher than the other, which among us is the greatest, who gets to decide where things will go in the church kitchen, and which of us gets to decide who is worthy to be a trustee. Instead, we "also should wash one another's feet." Jesus says he is setting an example that we should do as Jesus has done for the original disciples. Otherwise, he goes on to say, we will be acting as though we are greater than "the one who sent us" -- that is, Jesus. How much dissension and acrimony would be averted if we would only remember these words!
If your church hasn't had this tradition, you may find that there is great resistance to trying such a thing. People become extremely shy about letting others see their corns and calluses or fret that their feet may smell. There will probably be those who, like Peter, say "no way!" After all, in our society, children are washed, the sick are washed. No one washes another person unless that person is unable to do for themselves. This is a very parental, even maternal, thing to do for and to other people. There is an instinct in us that avoids such intimacy, especially in public.
But using this ritual can also go a long way toward reuniting members of a congregation that has been facing big challenges. It is good for us pastors to participate, not only as the one who washes others' feet, but also as one who receives foot washing from the people we serve. It allows people to minister to their minister, which can have enormous effect on the laity, not to mention we pastors.
Mahatma Gandhi took this teaching of Jesus and annoyed even his supporters by taking a tea tray away from a servant and pouring the tea himself and taking the cups to his friends. Eventually, he made the decision to wear only what the poorest of the poor wore at that time in India -- a cotton loincloth and a simple length of cotton to wrap around his shoulders. Gandhi said he had learned this from Jesus, who washed his disciples' feet.
"Unless I wash you, you have no part with me." Foot washing becomes akin to baptism. But we have all been baptized, haven't we? Why then this ceremony? To be re-baptized? To become as little children (as Jesus said, we must become like children if we wish to enter the kingdom of God)? To reflect on our helplessness without Jesus? Or all of the above?
