Episcopal Church of the Messiah

Worship Service Sermons

April 1, 2010

Tonight, Maundy Thursday, we celebrate the Last Supper of our Lord with his disciples. This Passover celebration is mentioned in all four Gospels, a final meal together as Jesus prepares to meet his death. As is also the case in "finals" of any sort, Jesus takes advantage of this opportunity to do a last bit of teaching, to share some final instructions with his disciples.

In three of the Gospels, Matthew, Mark, and Luke, he gives his disciples what we now celebrate as Eucharist: "this is my body…" "This is my blood…" "Take… eat… drink... in remembrance of me." And we do, regularly; we will again, tonight. We will open our hands to receive this gift to us, the broken body of God’s son, Jesus, the words: "The body of Christ, the bread of heaven… The body of Christ, the bread of heaven…" falling gently around us like a soothing balm.

The Last Supper teaching in John is different. John doesn’t mention the bread and wine of our familiar Eucharistic ritual, this offering of Jesus in our behalf. The ritual focus in John is not on what Jesus is doing for us, but on what we need to do for one another.

Jesus washes the disciples feet.

"So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet."

Must I?

Foot washing makes many of us uncomfortable!

And yet: how profound! How central to Jesus’ message: "Care for one another."

Our feet take a beating: bearing our weight, collecting the sweat from the heat of their confinement in shoes and socks, the dust of the road, the corns and blisters formed from rubbing against the rough spots of our lives, our journeys – all safely hidden away, out of sight, where no one can see.

As in our lives, we want to "put our best foot forward" – and Jesus asks us to bare, not only our souls, but our yucky feet!

"Wash one another’s feet."

"Care for one another."

Soothe the pain.

Share the burden.

Accept, love, the rough spots, the blemishes…

And our response, often, is:

"You don’t want to look, see, touch, smell these yucky things! Gross!"

"You don’t want to know how awful I am, what I’ve done, my secrets, my imperfections, my pains and hurts and losses and sinfulness – those blemishes and rough spots in my psyche, on my soul…"

We don’t want to expose those raw and dirty spots which carry us along. We’d rather keep them safely hidden away, tucked into our shoes.

We’re afraid: who can accept these parts of us?

Jesus, maybe – but our neighbor?!!

It’s so much easier to open our hands for Eucharist, to receive the broken body of Jesus, than to shed our shoes…

It’s easier to receive Jesus’ brokenness than to expose our own, to receive nourishment from Christ rather than from our neighbor…

And yet the charge Jesus leaves us with, at this Passover Supper, is the charge to nourish and care for one another: "So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet."

To follow this mandate, we as individual Christians must be willing to open ourselves, not only to God, but to others; to risk shedding the shoes of our false selves and allow our true selves to be seen, loved, and cared for by others.

And to follow this mandate, we as a Christian community must create the safe spaces in which others can risk that openness.

Herbert O’Driscoll, an author and priest, tells us of the five gifts God has given us for our journey through this life: "The Word, water, bread, wine, and one another."

We gathered this evening once again to hear God’s Word for us on this Holy Thursday. We will soon gather again at the Lord’s Table for the Great Thanksgiving, and participate in the sharing of bread and wine, as Jesus instructed his disciples at that last Passover Supper. We have been washed with water in our baptism. And tonight we have the opportunity to wash one another’s feet, to care and to be cared for.

"So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet."

As we enter the Triduum, these three most Holy Days, let us open ourselves to one another just as we open our hands to receive the host, that we may be nourished not only by Christ in the Eucharist, but by his presence in our neighbor.

Amen.