Maundy Thursday
April 01, 2010

My friends, this evening, followers of Jesus Christ across the globe leave their comfortable homes and their happy over-scheduled families.  They drive away from homework assignments and iPods, X-Boxes and flat screens.  They put off Facebook and laundry.  They come out of those easy, controlled environments and arrive at places like this where more is being demanded tonight.  Faithful people, true believers, even folk struggling with their connection to a living God, gather to remember Jesus of Nazareth’s last night on earth as a free human being.  They come to church to hear the story of his last hours in the company of friends.  They come to get clear in their minds the progression of events and the final lessons he offered.   And Christians who make their way to Maundy Thursday services come for one other reason.  They come with a motivation the human prophet, the human Messiah would truly appreciate.  They come with the knowledge of what came next.  They sit next to one another knowing the tragic human drama about to unfold.  They know who the betrayer is.  They know his action will not bring him the regard he longs for.  Judas will kiss his friend, take the coins and lose all respect for himself.  So shamed by his behavior, he will kill himself.  One life lost.  The Iscariot family forever broken.

Those in church tonight know the good friends’ weakness.  They know Peter, James, John, Andrew and the others won’t be there for Jesus.  They know in his most anxious, fearful moments, the men who know Jesus best will be too self-absorbed to watch and wait with him as he tries to prepare himself for the scary, scary hours ahead.  People like us know the whole story.  We know about the soldiers dragging Jesus off, not concerned about Miranda rights or brutality charges.  We know about the politically motivated accusations and the perjury.  We know about the power play between the Hebrew governor Herod and Roman overlord Pilate.  We know the mob mentality that overtakes the crowd of spectators on the mall.  We know about the lack of accountability leading to the lack of restraint on the way to the execution.  We know about the crowds jeering and pushing, the beating and bullying.  We know so many unsettling details and knowing what we know, our hearts are heavy.

And so we come tonight to redeem what happened that night so long ago.  Knowing the whole story, we come to be the friends Jesus should have had all around him those dark, hard hours.  We come to fully appreciate what was being given in that final meal.  We come understanding and deeply valuing the gift he gave as he took bread, blessed it, broke it (as he was soon to be broken) and gave it freely, lovingly to feed his friends and all who would become his friends.  We come to listen with focused attention to the new directive Jesus initiates.  “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. J ust as I have loved you, you also should love one another.  By this, everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”  Knowing what we know this side of the first Easter, these words have extra import.  When Jesus speaks of loving as he loved, he is not referring to kindness and gentility.  He loved to his fullest capacity to his very end.  He loved with the full extent and last breath of his life.  The twelve didn’t know the love they were being called to.  We do.

The twelve didn’t understand why it was so important to Jesus that they comprehend his message of service to others, care for others, love, self-sacrificing love for the well-being of others.  They didn’t know the hour was so late, his time was so short, his example so necessary.  We do.  They didn’t know their strong, brilliant, masterful friend was so vulnerable.  They didn’t know.  Tonight is the anniversary of the worst night in our Savior’s life.  Tonight marks the hours and minutes he is most human.  And sadly, so sadly, although surrounded by people who know and love him, in his time of trial and crisis of conscience, he is most alone!

Hoping without any real sense of hope, he goes to his father and prays, let there be a different outcome.  Please, do not put me on this road.  I do not want to go this way.  Please, save me from this.  At some point in his prayer, Jesus recognizes the fate he dreads is the fate he is destined and so he acquiesces.  He says yes.  And he says yes to all the horror that will follow and he says yes – all alone.

So tonight we honor Jesus of Nazareth.  We honor the good, gracious, fully human man who stood for us, stood for us before he was the resurrected Christ.  Tonight we honor his sacrifice and fear and doubt and his determination to say yes anyway.  We honor the man full of all human emotion who did what God asked because he loved the Lord and he loved us. 

Tonight we remember.  We give thanks as we stand with Jesus in gratitude.  Tonight we do what the original disciples could not do for their friend.  We watch and weep and to honor him best, we take to heart his final directive:

“Everyone will know that you are my disciples if you have love for one another.” 

Amen.