The Rev. Fredrick A. Robinson, Easter Sunday 2012
Tonight we begin the Paschal Triduum—the three-day liturgy that re-presents the event by which we are given life and immortality. In these three days we will see humanity at its worst and at its best. We will see hatred, betrayal, conspiracy, evil—in its purest form. We will also see affection, forgiveness, thanksgiving, love, and goodness—in its purest form. We will see remorse, agony, fear, pain, grief, and joy; and through it all we will see the purposes of God and his pure, unbounded love.
As we participate in the recalling of that Event which happened 2000 years ago, our Lord invites us to see in that story our story; he invites us to realize that it is for our sins that he died, that we might be reconciled to God.
“Who was the guilty? Who brought this upon thee?
Alas, my treason, Jesus, hath undone thee.
‘Twas I, Lord Jesus, I it was denied thee.
I crucified thee.
For me, kind Jesus, was thy incarnation,
Thy mortal sorrow, and thy life’s oblation;
Thy death of anguish and thy bitter passion,
For my salvation.”
Tonight, the first part of this three-day liturgy, we gather with our Lord Jesus in the Upper Room. Jesus knows that he is about to meet his death, and so he takes his last opportunity with his closest friends, to give them two commandments. The beloved disciple, John, tells us of one in his account of the Gospel, and the other commandment is recounted in Matthew, Mark, and Luke.
St. John tells us that at the Last Supper Jesus got up from the table, removed his outer garment, wrapped a towel around his waist, and washed his disciples’ feet. The washing of feet on such an occasion wasn’t that unusual. In fact, it was a gracious thing to do. But never would it have been done by the host for his guests and certainly never would a Master have done it for his disciples. It was a dirty, menial task done by a servant. Peter most likely echoed the thoughts of everyone present when he reacted so negatively to Jesus washing his feet. “You shall never wash my feet,” Peter said.
Yet this act wasn’t out of character for our Lord. His earthly life had been one of service. His teachings had upset the conventional, traditional order. “You know that among the pagans the rulers lord it over them, and their great men make their authority felt. This is not to happen among you. No, anyone who wants to be great among you must be your slave, just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Jesus’ washing of his disciples’ feet was simply practicing what he preached.
After washing their feet, he further drove home his point by giving them a new commandment, a new mandate, or in Latin, mandatum, from which this day gets its name, Maundy. “I give you a new commandment: love one another, just as I have loved you, you also must love one another. By this love you have for one another, everyone will know that you are my disciples.” Our love for one another is to be a love manifesting itself in concrete acts of self-giving.
W. Paul Jones gives an excellent insight into how we can misunderstand Jesus’ command to love. He says that “Satan knows that subversion is a far better tactic than challenging Christians straight on with atheist parades or inflammatory banners. Since the heart of the Gospel has to do with love, subverting Christianity is simple. Encourage everyone to fall in love with love. Surround them with fluffy bunnies and cute chickies for Easter, and cuddly, big-eyed children for Christmas. Make love a household word for everything—I love chocolate; I love my Cadillac; I love pickles; I love God. When all kinds of love begin sounding the same, then we can make love without loving. Church and society will become so indistinguishable that folks won’t be able to tell the difference between God is love and love is God.
The love to which Jesus calls us is the same love with which he washed his disciples’ feet, to touch lepers, to speak harsh words of judgment against the Pharisees; out of which he fed the hungry, cured the lame, and raised the dead. It is the same love that prompted him to forgive his executioners. It is the same love that led him to suffer and die for us. This is the love with which we are commanded to love, a love that issues in self-offering.
At that supper Jesus gave another commandment. He took bread, blessed it, and gave it to his disciples and said, “Take, eat, this is my Body which is given for you. Do this for the remembrance of me.”
After supper he took the cup of wine, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them and said, “Drink this, all of you. This is my Blood of the New Covenant, which is shed for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins. Whenever you drink it, do this for the remembrance of me.”
So much can be said about our Lord’s giving of this Sacrament. Countless volumes have been written about the Eucharist. But I simply want to call attention to this act of self-offering. Jesus has given us the way to make present his original sacrifice for all time to come. Through this Sacrament he has chosen the way that he may continue to offer himself to every Christian, every time that Christian stretches forth hands to receive him. The same selfless love by which he washed his disciples’ feet and which led him to the cross has led him to provide a way for us to receive him. How awesome it is to realize that Almighty God, the Maker of all that is, seen and unseen, wants continually to be in communion with us and to give himself to and for us. Truly, it is more than our minds can fathom.
Yet, his giving of himself is not simply for our nourishment or our spiritual well-being. It is so that we might have what we need in order to offer ourselves in love to others.
In the Holy Land, that land where our Lord lived during his earthly life, there is a large body of water named the Dead Sea. The Jordan River flows into the Dead Sea and the water in that sea has no outlet. It is truly a beautiful body of water, surrounded by a desert wilderness and barren mountains. As you may know, however, as beautiful as it is, absolutely nothing lives in it. Because there is no water flowing from it, salt and other minerals are so highly concentrated in it that nothing organic can live in it. Everything that flows into it, it keeps for itself, and in so doing, nothing can live in it. That’s why it is called the Dead Sea.
In this Paschal Triduum we celebrate the Event through which we are given life and immortality. We are given that life through the self-offering of our Lord Jesus Christ. We can only keep that life as we give ourselves in turn for others.
Sermon preached by the Rev. Fredrick A. Robinson, Rector
The Church of the Redeemer
Sarasota, Florida
Maundy Thursday
24 March 2016