As Often As You Eat This Series

March 27, 2019 - Maundy Thursday Service

Hope Lutheran Church

Rev. Mary Erickson

1 Corinthians 11:23-26; John 13:1-17, 31b-35

As Often as You Eat This

Friends, may grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and Christ Jesus our Lord.

Traditions. Traditions have a comfort all their own. Those traditions give us anchorage. Every family has certain foods and rituals associated with celebrations. We look forward to the familiar aromas and tastes. The things we say and the actions we take help us to mark the occasion.

That’s certainly true of us as a faith community, too. We have our cherished traditions, even on Sunday mornings. We know what to expect when we gather. We will hear the word. We’ll receive the Lord’s Supper. We’ll pray and sing hymns.

Gathering here on Holy Thursday is part of our faith tradition. We come together to remember the events in Jesus’ life just before his arrest and crucifixion. The occurrences in that upper room have indelibly marked the traditions of our worship.

The events of that night are filled with hope, a hope whose flame will not be quenched. Jesus’ actions on that evening bear testimony to a hope that sees beyond death and betrayal. It’s a hope that holds all of our shortcomings and confusions with compassion. That hope continues still among us, as often as we eat this meal.

Jesus and his disciples were in Jerusalem. The Jewish Passover was drawing near. The disciples wondered where they would observe the holiday. Jesus gave them instructions on a certain upper room where they would be able to gather. All was prepared and on the evening of the Passover, they gathered there.

The Jewish Passover was then and still is filled with traditions. It has certain rhythms to it. But on that night in the upper room, Jesus disrupted the rhythm. He marked the night with a new hope and a new commandment.

When the disciples gathered, Jesus tied a towel around himself like an apron. Then he got on his hands and knees to wash the feet of his disciples. It was something a hired servant would do, not Jesus! They squirm and protest, but Jesus insists. He washes their feet to set an example of humble service.

Then during the meal, Jesus picks up the loaf of unleavened bread. He shows it to the disciples and says, “Take this. This is my body, given for you.” A little while later, he holds up his cup of wine. “This is my blood of the covenant. I pour it out for you and for many.”

Jesus was establishing a new tradition for his disciples. This meal was meant to sustain them, so that they would always have him with them. But we can imagine the disciples were stunned. What is this new thing Jesus is doing? What does he mean, “this is my body?” Their comprehension of this meal wouldn’t come into focus until much later. After Jesus’ death, after his resurrection, after his ascension, then they understood! Jesus comes to them as often as they eat this bread and drink this wine.

We come here tonight to remember love. We recall and celebrate this meal of love Jesus has given for us. It’s a meal intended for an imperfect and flawed community. In short, the meal is for sinners.

Jesus gives himself, body and blood. And he does so in an atmosphere of betrayal and confusion. Every time we eat this meal, we tell the story of what happened on that night. And the story we tell always begins the same way: “On the night in which he was betrayed.” This meal comes to us in the context of betrayal and desertion. The disciples gathered there didn’t fully get what was happening; Judas was about to betray Jesus; Peter would soon deny he ever knew him.

And Jesus knew all of this. He knew his end was just a few hours away. In less than 24 hours, he would hang lifeless from a cross. But despite his imminent passion, Jesus remains utterly focused on love. He creates a meal of grace for his disciples and all who will follow. He washes their feet in service. And then he gives a command, a command to love. “Love one another. Even as I have loved you.”

In the face of death and desertion, Jesus remains focused on love. And that love is our hope, for God’s love cannot be extinguished. Love is stronger than death.

This love is our hope. Whenever we eat this bread and drink this wine, Jesus comes into our midst. He gives us this meal of grace, this meal of his presence. And in his love, we become his love. That love which even death cannot extinguish, now dwells in us. Let us love one another, even as we have been loved.