Maundy Thursday
Preaching
Lectionary Preaching Workbook
Series VIII, Cycle B
Revised Common
Exodus 12:1-4 (5-10) 11-14
1 Corinthians 11:23-26
John 13:1-17, 31b-35
Roman Catholic
Exodus 12:1-8 (11-14)
1 Corinthians 11:23-26
John 13:1-15
Episcopal
Exodus 12:1-14a
1 Corinthians 11:23-26 (27-32)
John 13:1-15 or Luke 22:14-30
Theme For The Day
Jesus' call to his disciples to love one another is a call to radical servanthood.
Old Testament Lesson
Exodus 12:1-4 (5-10) 11-14
The Institution Of The Passover
Just prior to this passage, after Moses' pleadings to Pharaoh to let the people go, "the Lord hardened Pharaoh's heart, and he did not let the people of Israel go out of his land" (11:10b). As chapter 12 begins, the Lord instructs Moses and Aaron in how to prepare for the last, most dreadful demonstration of power: God's slaying of the Egyptian firstborn sons. These events will, of course, provide the inspiration for subsequent celebrations of Passover. The plentiful liturgical detail provided with these instructions marks this passage as belonging to the priestly tradition. Each household is to slay, prepare, cook, and eat a lamb in the prescribed fashion, smearing some of its blood on the doorposts of their home. "This is how you shall eat it: your loins girded, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand; and you shall eat it hurriedly" (v. 11a). Blood is at the heart of this ritual: "when I see the blood," says the Lord, "I will pass over you, and no plague shall destroy you when I strike the land of Egypt" (v. 13b). Parallels with the sacrificial death of Jesus ("the Lamb of God") are legion, as are connections with Jesus' institution of the Lord's Supper.
New Testament Lesson
1 Corinthians 11:23-26
The Institution Of The Lord's Supper
Paul begins this passage, "For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you," indicating that what he is about to pass on belongs to the most solemn and important traditions of the faith. The opening is noteworthy because Paul, alone among the apostles, was not present when Jesus established this tradition. He "received it from the Lord," therefore, not firsthand but through the witness of the community -- which is how any of us receive and hand on this tradition. What follows, of course, are Jesus' words of institution of the Lord's Supper. The synoptic gospels' versions of these words can be found at Matthew 26:26-29; Mark 14:22-25; and Luke 22:14-23 (although, in date of composition, these words from 1 Corinthians are older). The occasion that leads Paul to recount Jesus' institution of the Lord's Supper is the problem of either factionalism or class distinctions within the Corinthian church. This problem has intruded even into the sacramental meal. This was more of a full meal than is the practice in our day, and -- since there were no church buildings -- it was celebrated in a private home. Some at the sacramental feast, who evidently consider themselves more privileged than others, eat their fill and become drunk -- showing contempt for their fellow believers, who go hungry. Paul is extremely angry about this, as seen in the harsh scolding he gives: "What should I say to you? Should I commend you? In this matter I do not commend you!" (v. 22b).
The Gospel
John 13:1-17, 31b-35
The Institution Of Footwashing
The name "Maundy Thursday" is a corruption of the Latin mandatum, or commandment. This refers to Jesus' "great commandment" that Christians are to love one another -- a passage that is found in the second part of today's selection from John (13:31b-35), along with the prior narration of Jesus' washing of the disciples' feet. The footwashing is both the setting for Jesus' commandment and its practical illustration. It is, in fact, a sort of visual parable. The great difficulty his disciples have in receiving this simple, loving gesture is demonstrated in Peter's sputtering objection. Jesus immediately suppresses his friend's complaint with the stern promise that, if Peter does not receive the footwashing, he will be expelled from the fellowship. Jesus' stern, even angry response is similar to that of Paul in 1 Corinthians 11 (see above) -- the maintenance of class distinctions within the Christian community is not something Jesus will tolerate, any more than Paul. Peter repents completely of his error, impetuously begging Jesus for the privilege of having his hands and head washed, as well. Jesus commands his disciples to wash each others' feet on future occasions, an act performed only rarely in the modern church -- which is curious, given the direct and unequivocal nature of the Lord's commandment to his followers to do as he has just done (vv. 14-15). Some have observed that Jesus' demonstration of footwashing, followed by his unequivocal commandment to do so, has the same level of authority as his commandment to baptize or to celebrate the Lord's Supper -- although the modern church has, for the most part, neglected it.
Preaching Possibilities
A sermon on "The Two Basins" could compare the basin of Jesus' footwashing with the basin Pilate uses to wash his hands after condemning Jesus (John 13:1-17). Time and again, we all have to choose between them. Do we, most often, choose the basin of humble discipleship -- or do we choose the basin of guilty denial of responsibility, our responsibility to love and care for one another?
The Last Supper is a banquet -- and at a banquet in Jesus' day, it was the custom for guests to wear special robes, gleaming white. (We have no way of knowing if Jesus and his company, being of humble origin and being visitors to Jerusalem, would have had the means to celebrate in such a fashion; but this would have been their society's ideal.) Before leaving home, banquet guests carefully washed themselves, so as to be clean in body as well as spirit. There was a practical problem, though: in a land of dirt roads, it was impossible to keep their feet clean. So when guests arrived at a banquet, they would have their feet washed -- usually by a servant.
But Jesus and his disciples have no servants. This means that, according to custom, the task of washing the others' feet should fall to the most junior of the disciples. But that presents a problem: for, as the gospel writers indicate, the disciples are always arguing among themselves. Luke relates how, even at the Last Supper, they are disputing as to "which one is greatest" (22:24). No one wants to take the servant role. So Jesus, their rabbi and leader, quietly takes up the basin and towel and becomes their servant.
So often in our lives, we choose not the basin of footwashing: of care and concern for neighbors. We choose the other basin: the basin of Pilate.
Pilate knows the charges against Jesus are nonsense. He has seen plenty of political revolutionaries in his day, and the man before him does not have the look of a revolutionary about him. Yet Pilate has little regard for Jesus' life. He has sacrificed others in the past on the altar of political expediency, and this pathetic prisoner is no different. Yet, Pilate has the larger political situation to think of. This activist rabbi does have his supporters. If he's to be a martyr, better to have the Jewish and Roman authorities together pass sentence on him, than to have the Roman governor do so alone. If Pilate can arrange things so the members of the Sanhedrin can also walk away from this trial with blood on their hands, so much the better.
Pilate knows of an obscure portion of the Jewish law that describes what to do if a dead man is found outside a village, murdered by thieves. In such an instance, the village elders are obliged to slay a heifer, and publicly wash their hands over the slain animal, declaring by their act that their village is innocent of the dead man's blood (Deuteronomy 21:1-9). So Pilate calls for a basin and washes his hands, saying to the mob outside his window, "I am innocent of this man's blood."
This is a slap in the face to the crowd. The hated Roman governor is using their own law to call them murderers. And the crowd shouts back, "We take responsibility for this man's blood -- for he is guilty!" Jesus never has a chance. Caught between the Sanhedrin and Pilate in their endless struggle for power, he is crushed without a word.
Pilate's basin is a travesty of forgiveness and justice; compared to Jesus' basin of footwashing, it is a twisted, tragic imitation. But we must be honest with ourselves, and admit that it is that basin we choose again and again in our lives.
There is hope, though. The hope lies in doing what Peter finds it so difficult to do -- allowing Jesus to wash our own feet. If we let down our guard enough to allow the Lord to do that, we just may be able to take up the basin of humility ourselves.
Prayer For The Day
Wash us thoroughly from our iniquity, O God, and cleanse us from our sin. Purge us with hyssop, and we shall be clean; wash us, and we shall be whiter than snow! Restore to us the joy of your salvation, and uphold us with your free Spirit. Amen.
-- Adapted from Psalm 51
To Illustrate
We live in a society that's obsessively concerned with rights. Our nation is founded on a "Bill of Rights." Our Declaration of Independence talks of "inalienable rights ... to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." We have a proud tradition of democracy in our country, but it's not without its dark side.
It's often said that we Americans are the most "litigious" people in the world. That means we love to litigate -- to take one another to court, to claim our rights. Because of this love of litigation, two-thirds of all the lawyers in the world practice in the United States of America.
At the Last Supper, Jesus completely renounces his rights. He takes the lowliest role in the place, as he takes up the basin.
***
C. S. Lewis compares our self-love to a man who looks down the road at a line of telephone poles and concludes that the pole closest to him is the largest. Our happiness looms so much larger in our hearts than our neighbor's happiness, even though God created us as equal in our capacity for happiness, just as a row of telephone poles are equal in height.
***
There's a term in the art world known as chiaroscuro. It's an Italian word: the Italians invented the technique. Before chiaroscuro, paintings were uniformly bright, often enclosed in gilt frames and matting.
But with the advent of this technique, things changed in the world of painting. Artists discovered the dramatic power of shadow -- of painting a person whose face was illuminated by a single candle, surrounded on every side by darkness. This technique somehow captured the ambiguity and uncertainty of life. Against the background of darkness, light seems all the more brilliant.
Easter is a glorious celebration, whether or not we have paid Lent, or Maundy Thursday, or Good Friday any mind. Yet the sunlight of Easter morn never seems so bright, unless we come to the empty tomb by way of the upper room, and unless we have stood for a time at the foot of the cross.
***
Some background on the setting for the Lord's Supper in the Corinthian church:
Archaeological study of Roman houses from this period has shown that the dining room (triclinium) of a typical villa could accommodate only nine persons, who would recline at table for the meal. Other guests would have to sit or stand in the atrium, which might have provided space for another thirty to forty people.... It is reasonable to assume, therefore, that the host's higher-status friends would be invited to dine in the triclinium, while lower-status members of the church (such as freedmen and slaves) would be placed in the larger space outside.
Furthermore, under such conditions it was not at all unusual for the higher-status guests in the dining room to be served better food and wine than the other guests -- just as first-class passengers on an airliner receive much better food and service than others on the same plane. A number of surviving texts from this period testify to this custom among the Romans.... For example, Pliny the Younger describes his experience of dining as guest of a man who boasted of the "elegant economy" of his hospitality: "The best dishes were set in front of himself and a select few, and cheap scraps of food before the rest of the company. He had even put the wine into tiny little flasks, divided into three categories, not with the idea of giving his guests the opportunity of choosing, but to make it impossible for them to refuse what they were given." (Letters 2.6)
Paul regards such practices -- however "normal" in respectable Roman culture -- as an outrage. He does not deny the right of the more prosperous Corinthians to eat and drink however they like in their own homes (v. 22a), but he insists that the church's common meal should symbolize the unity of the community through equitable sharing of food at the meal.
-- Hays, R. B., First Corinthians, in the Interpretation series (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1997), p. 196
***
"Why doesn't anyone see God nowadays?" a wise rabbi was asked.
He answered: "People are not willing to look that low."
***
Meister Eckhart, who repeats this message dozens of times in his writings, points out that the word "humility" comes from the word humus or earth. In the creation tradition, then, to be humble means to be in touch with the earth, in touch with one's own earthiness, and to celebrate the blessing that our earthiness, our sensuality, and our passions are.
-- Matthew Fox, Original Blessing (Santa Fe: Bear & Co., 1983), p. 59
***
"We can do no great things; only small things with great love."
-- Mother Teresa of Calcutta
Exodus 12:1-4 (5-10) 11-14
1 Corinthians 11:23-26
John 13:1-17, 31b-35
Roman Catholic
Exodus 12:1-8 (11-14)
1 Corinthians 11:23-26
John 13:1-15
Episcopal
Exodus 12:1-14a
1 Corinthians 11:23-26 (27-32)
John 13:1-15 or Luke 22:14-30
Theme For The Day
Jesus' call to his disciples to love one another is a call to radical servanthood.
Old Testament Lesson
Exodus 12:1-4 (5-10) 11-14
The Institution Of The Passover
Just prior to this passage, after Moses' pleadings to Pharaoh to let the people go, "the Lord hardened Pharaoh's heart, and he did not let the people of Israel go out of his land" (11:10b). As chapter 12 begins, the Lord instructs Moses and Aaron in how to prepare for the last, most dreadful demonstration of power: God's slaying of the Egyptian firstborn sons. These events will, of course, provide the inspiration for subsequent celebrations of Passover. The plentiful liturgical detail provided with these instructions marks this passage as belonging to the priestly tradition. Each household is to slay, prepare, cook, and eat a lamb in the prescribed fashion, smearing some of its blood on the doorposts of their home. "This is how you shall eat it: your loins girded, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand; and you shall eat it hurriedly" (v. 11a). Blood is at the heart of this ritual: "when I see the blood," says the Lord, "I will pass over you, and no plague shall destroy you when I strike the land of Egypt" (v. 13b). Parallels with the sacrificial death of Jesus ("the Lamb of God") are legion, as are connections with Jesus' institution of the Lord's Supper.
New Testament Lesson
1 Corinthians 11:23-26
The Institution Of The Lord's Supper
Paul begins this passage, "For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you," indicating that what he is about to pass on belongs to the most solemn and important traditions of the faith. The opening is noteworthy because Paul, alone among the apostles, was not present when Jesus established this tradition. He "received it from the Lord," therefore, not firsthand but through the witness of the community -- which is how any of us receive and hand on this tradition. What follows, of course, are Jesus' words of institution of the Lord's Supper. The synoptic gospels' versions of these words can be found at Matthew 26:26-29; Mark 14:22-25; and Luke 22:14-23 (although, in date of composition, these words from 1 Corinthians are older). The occasion that leads Paul to recount Jesus' institution of the Lord's Supper is the problem of either factionalism or class distinctions within the Corinthian church. This problem has intruded even into the sacramental meal. This was more of a full meal than is the practice in our day, and -- since there were no church buildings -- it was celebrated in a private home. Some at the sacramental feast, who evidently consider themselves more privileged than others, eat their fill and become drunk -- showing contempt for their fellow believers, who go hungry. Paul is extremely angry about this, as seen in the harsh scolding he gives: "What should I say to you? Should I commend you? In this matter I do not commend you!" (v. 22b).
The Gospel
John 13:1-17, 31b-35
The Institution Of Footwashing
The name "Maundy Thursday" is a corruption of the Latin mandatum, or commandment. This refers to Jesus' "great commandment" that Christians are to love one another -- a passage that is found in the second part of today's selection from John (13:31b-35), along with the prior narration of Jesus' washing of the disciples' feet. The footwashing is both the setting for Jesus' commandment and its practical illustration. It is, in fact, a sort of visual parable. The great difficulty his disciples have in receiving this simple, loving gesture is demonstrated in Peter's sputtering objection. Jesus immediately suppresses his friend's complaint with the stern promise that, if Peter does not receive the footwashing, he will be expelled from the fellowship. Jesus' stern, even angry response is similar to that of Paul in 1 Corinthians 11 (see above) -- the maintenance of class distinctions within the Christian community is not something Jesus will tolerate, any more than Paul. Peter repents completely of his error, impetuously begging Jesus for the privilege of having his hands and head washed, as well. Jesus commands his disciples to wash each others' feet on future occasions, an act performed only rarely in the modern church -- which is curious, given the direct and unequivocal nature of the Lord's commandment to his followers to do as he has just done (vv. 14-15). Some have observed that Jesus' demonstration of footwashing, followed by his unequivocal commandment to do so, has the same level of authority as his commandment to baptize or to celebrate the Lord's Supper -- although the modern church has, for the most part, neglected it.
Preaching Possibilities
A sermon on "The Two Basins" could compare the basin of Jesus' footwashing with the basin Pilate uses to wash his hands after condemning Jesus (John 13:1-17). Time and again, we all have to choose between them. Do we, most often, choose the basin of humble discipleship -- or do we choose the basin of guilty denial of responsibility, our responsibility to love and care for one another?
The Last Supper is a banquet -- and at a banquet in Jesus' day, it was the custom for guests to wear special robes, gleaming white. (We have no way of knowing if Jesus and his company, being of humble origin and being visitors to Jerusalem, would have had the means to celebrate in such a fashion; but this would have been their society's ideal.) Before leaving home, banquet guests carefully washed themselves, so as to be clean in body as well as spirit. There was a practical problem, though: in a land of dirt roads, it was impossible to keep their feet clean. So when guests arrived at a banquet, they would have their feet washed -- usually by a servant.
But Jesus and his disciples have no servants. This means that, according to custom, the task of washing the others' feet should fall to the most junior of the disciples. But that presents a problem: for, as the gospel writers indicate, the disciples are always arguing among themselves. Luke relates how, even at the Last Supper, they are disputing as to "which one is greatest" (22:24). No one wants to take the servant role. So Jesus, their rabbi and leader, quietly takes up the basin and towel and becomes their servant.
So often in our lives, we choose not the basin of footwashing: of care and concern for neighbors. We choose the other basin: the basin of Pilate.
Pilate knows the charges against Jesus are nonsense. He has seen plenty of political revolutionaries in his day, and the man before him does not have the look of a revolutionary about him. Yet Pilate has little regard for Jesus' life. He has sacrificed others in the past on the altar of political expediency, and this pathetic prisoner is no different. Yet, Pilate has the larger political situation to think of. This activist rabbi does have his supporters. If he's to be a martyr, better to have the Jewish and Roman authorities together pass sentence on him, than to have the Roman governor do so alone. If Pilate can arrange things so the members of the Sanhedrin can also walk away from this trial with blood on their hands, so much the better.
Pilate knows of an obscure portion of the Jewish law that describes what to do if a dead man is found outside a village, murdered by thieves. In such an instance, the village elders are obliged to slay a heifer, and publicly wash their hands over the slain animal, declaring by their act that their village is innocent of the dead man's blood (Deuteronomy 21:1-9). So Pilate calls for a basin and washes his hands, saying to the mob outside his window, "I am innocent of this man's blood."
This is a slap in the face to the crowd. The hated Roman governor is using their own law to call them murderers. And the crowd shouts back, "We take responsibility for this man's blood -- for he is guilty!" Jesus never has a chance. Caught between the Sanhedrin and Pilate in their endless struggle for power, he is crushed without a word.
Pilate's basin is a travesty of forgiveness and justice; compared to Jesus' basin of footwashing, it is a twisted, tragic imitation. But we must be honest with ourselves, and admit that it is that basin we choose again and again in our lives.
There is hope, though. The hope lies in doing what Peter finds it so difficult to do -- allowing Jesus to wash our own feet. If we let down our guard enough to allow the Lord to do that, we just may be able to take up the basin of humility ourselves.
Prayer For The Day
Wash us thoroughly from our iniquity, O God, and cleanse us from our sin. Purge us with hyssop, and we shall be clean; wash us, and we shall be whiter than snow! Restore to us the joy of your salvation, and uphold us with your free Spirit. Amen.
-- Adapted from Psalm 51
To Illustrate
We live in a society that's obsessively concerned with rights. Our nation is founded on a "Bill of Rights." Our Declaration of Independence talks of "inalienable rights ... to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." We have a proud tradition of democracy in our country, but it's not without its dark side.
It's often said that we Americans are the most "litigious" people in the world. That means we love to litigate -- to take one another to court, to claim our rights. Because of this love of litigation, two-thirds of all the lawyers in the world practice in the United States of America.
At the Last Supper, Jesus completely renounces his rights. He takes the lowliest role in the place, as he takes up the basin.
***
C. S. Lewis compares our self-love to a man who looks down the road at a line of telephone poles and concludes that the pole closest to him is the largest. Our happiness looms so much larger in our hearts than our neighbor's happiness, even though God created us as equal in our capacity for happiness, just as a row of telephone poles are equal in height.
***
There's a term in the art world known as chiaroscuro. It's an Italian word: the Italians invented the technique. Before chiaroscuro, paintings were uniformly bright, often enclosed in gilt frames and matting.
But with the advent of this technique, things changed in the world of painting. Artists discovered the dramatic power of shadow -- of painting a person whose face was illuminated by a single candle, surrounded on every side by darkness. This technique somehow captured the ambiguity and uncertainty of life. Against the background of darkness, light seems all the more brilliant.
Easter is a glorious celebration, whether or not we have paid Lent, or Maundy Thursday, or Good Friday any mind. Yet the sunlight of Easter morn never seems so bright, unless we come to the empty tomb by way of the upper room, and unless we have stood for a time at the foot of the cross.
***
Some background on the setting for the Lord's Supper in the Corinthian church:
Archaeological study of Roman houses from this period has shown that the dining room (triclinium) of a typical villa could accommodate only nine persons, who would recline at table for the meal. Other guests would have to sit or stand in the atrium, which might have provided space for another thirty to forty people.... It is reasonable to assume, therefore, that the host's higher-status friends would be invited to dine in the triclinium, while lower-status members of the church (such as freedmen and slaves) would be placed in the larger space outside.
Furthermore, under such conditions it was not at all unusual for the higher-status guests in the dining room to be served better food and wine than the other guests -- just as first-class passengers on an airliner receive much better food and service than others on the same plane. A number of surviving texts from this period testify to this custom among the Romans.... For example, Pliny the Younger describes his experience of dining as guest of a man who boasted of the "elegant economy" of his hospitality: "The best dishes were set in front of himself and a select few, and cheap scraps of food before the rest of the company. He had even put the wine into tiny little flasks, divided into three categories, not with the idea of giving his guests the opportunity of choosing, but to make it impossible for them to refuse what they were given." (Letters 2.6)
Paul regards such practices -- however "normal" in respectable Roman culture -- as an outrage. He does not deny the right of the more prosperous Corinthians to eat and drink however they like in their own homes (v. 22a), but he insists that the church's common meal should symbolize the unity of the community through equitable sharing of food at the meal.
-- Hays, R. B., First Corinthians, in the Interpretation series (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1997), p. 196
***
"Why doesn't anyone see God nowadays?" a wise rabbi was asked.
He answered: "People are not willing to look that low."
***
Meister Eckhart, who repeats this message dozens of times in his writings, points out that the word "humility" comes from the word humus or earth. In the creation tradition, then, to be humble means to be in touch with the earth, in touch with one's own earthiness, and to celebrate the blessing that our earthiness, our sensuality, and our passions are.
-- Matthew Fox, Original Blessing (Santa Fe: Bear & Co., 1983), p. 59
***
"We can do no great things; only small things with great love."
-- Mother Teresa of Calcutta
