The Rev’d Stephen C. Holton
Christ Church, New Haven, Conn.
Maundy Thursday
April 1, 2021
Having loved his own who were in the world, Jesus loved them to the end.
In the name of God: Father, Son, & Holy Spirit.
This is the second Maundy Thursday we’ve spent in isolation, distanced from one another, wearing masks and staying home. I’ve missed being together in person for these liturgies of Holy Week. I wonder what things you’ve been missing during the pandemic? Perhaps being together in person, seeing friends, or being at dinner together are some of those things.
In tonight’s gospel we hear the story of a dinner party. It makes me remember pre-COVID times when we could gather in person for potlucks or around the table for a meal. When we could talk, laugh, and sing together. The room seems strangely warm and inviting as I imagine Jesus and his friends reclining around the table together, eating and drinking. They’ve come to Jerusalem to make preparations to celebrate the Passover, that joyous commemoration of God leading God’s holy people out of slavery in Egypt into a promised land. They would have been excited to be together, safe from the outside world in the upstairs room they occupied. Looking forward to the feast.
But before their meal that night, Jesus, whom they loved, did something strange. He stopped and took off his robe and got a towel and basin and pitcher of water and washed each of their feet.
He got down close, on the floor, right up next to them. He touched their feet as he bathed them and dried them off with his towel. Not the clean, pre-washed, manicured feet that perhaps you’ve prepared for tonight’s footwashing at home, but dusty, dirty, hard working feet that have been walking around Jerusalem all day on errands. Feet that have just stopped. Bodies that have slowed down. Spirits that have come together in that upstairs room. Friends that love one another.
Having loved his own who were in the world, Jesus loved them to the end.
He washed their feet because he loved them.
Peter was probably a little older than some of the other friends there and he realized the disconnect between Jesus, the rabbi, the teacher whom they followed, putting himself in the role of a servant, and so Peter protested. Lord, you can’t wash my feet! But Jesus insists, and Peter relents. Jesus washes his feet because he loves him.
Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.
Jesus tells his disciples that they should love one another. That slaves and masters are equal. That all people are equally beloved. That they should serve one another. That they should love one another.
And then, in the passage from John that we would have read at mass yesterday, in the passage that tonight’s reading skips over, something strange happens.
Jesus tells his friends that one of them will sell him out. That one of them will betray him. Peter looks over at young John, reclining next to Jesus at table, and mouths, Who is he talking about? What is he talking about??
John, who loves Jesus with all his heart, looks up and asks, Who is it, Jesus?
Jesus reaches out his hand, pulls a piece of bread from the common loaf, dips it in some oil, and hands it to Judas. The one to whom I give this bread will betray me.
Judas flees, and the other friends are confused. What could he mean? Has Judas gone to run more errands, buy a lamb, make arrangements for the Passover celebration?
But Judas knows what Jesus means, and Jesus knows what Judas will do. And so Judas goes to the police and the military officials and arranges to have Jesus arrested.
What does Jesus do in that moment?
Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.
These friends – Peter who would deny even knowing him just a few days later; these friends who would fall asleep as Jesus wept in despair in the Garden later that night; even Judas, who was that very minute leading the Roman and religious authorities to set a trap for Jesus – these friends are the ones whose feet Jesus washed. These are the ones whom he fed.
These are the ones to whom he said, when you gather like this, remember me. Take this Bread. It is my Body. Take this cup. It is my blood. I am giving myself to you. I love you. I am giving you myself.
With Peter I think about the strangeness of Jesus’s washing his friends’ feet. The strangeness of when we do that each Maundy Thursday. Perhaps you’ll do that in your home tonight—wash your own feet or the feet of someone you love. It’s intimate. Perhaps it’s even uncomfortable.
It’s strange. It’s too close.
We build barriers to keep ourselves safe from the betrayal of the world—from the betrayal of one another. And that betrayal is everywhere. The death-dealing of Judas and Pilate and the Roman government is real. What could be a gentle caress can instead be an act of sexual violence. What could be a hand outstretched in help can instead be a knee on a neck. What could be an offering of food or water can instead be a poisonous cocktail of chemicals leading to overdose and death.
The danger, the violence, the death dealing of the world we inhabit is real. Evil is real.
But Jesus loves the world. Jesus loves it all. Jesus loves even Judas. Even you and me.
And he gives himself away.
This is my body that is for you. This cup is the new promise, the new relationship, in my blood.
Here I am. I am yours. I love you.
Tomorrow that love will take Jesus to the cross. That love may mean some things die in us as well. Perhaps we have to give up some parts of ourselves, some expectations, in loving Jesus. In loving one another. In loving the whole world.
But when faced with degredation, with violence, with death, what else is there to do but give ourselves away? Give ourselves to Jesus? Give ourselves to Love?
I give you a new commandment, that you love one another, Just as I have loved you.
Jesus washes Judas’s feet. Jesus feeds Judas. Jesus loves Judas. Jesus is led to the cross and killed. All in the name of love.
But Jesus rises. For love is stronger than death.
In fact, love is all there is. Death is no thing in the face of Love.
You’ll hear later a setting of George Herbert’s poem “Love bade me welcome.”
The speaker doubts his worthiness, protests, cannot sit down with Love. Just like Peter cannot get his feet washed.
But Love invites him in, to sit at table. You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat.
And I did sit and eat.
Come and have your feet washed by Jesus. Come and receive his Body which he gives for you. See the terrors of this world fall away in the light of his embrace. Come and receive his love. Do not be afraid of the cross. For there waits an empty tomb on the other side.
Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.
This is my Body, which is for you.
You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat.
Friends, with Love, there is no ending. Only life everlasting.
Come and receive love. And give it back to one another as a friend of Jesus.