Holy Thursday

John 13:1-17, 31b-35

Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him. And during supper. Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, "Lord, are you going to wash my feet?" Jesus answered, "You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand." Peter said to him, "You will never wash my feet." Jesus answered, "Unless I wash you, you have no share with me." Simon Peter said to him, "Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!" Jesus said to him, "One who has bathed does not need to wash, except for the feet, but is entirely clean. And you are clean, though not all of you." For he knew who was to betray him; for this reason he said, "Not all of you are clean."

After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, "Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord--and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them.

When he had gone out, Jesus said, "Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once. Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, 'Where I am going, you cannot come.' I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just 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."


When someone close to us dies, or when some important event in our lives is over, we cling to memory, don’t we?
I can think of 2 such events in my life: last summer when my aunt died, and years ago as I drove away from my first summer job.

Many of you may also be able to remember these kind of important occasions in your own lives: the death of a parent, child, family member, or friend; or the end of an important season of time that left you with a lot of emotion to deal with.

Last summer was difficult for me. My Aunt Inez was as much like a third parent as I have in my life. She came to our home when I was born and helped take care of me and my sister. She hosted us when my mom had surgery when I was only 2. She dressed us up to come and visit my mom in the hospital. She invited us to stay at her house when our parents were at boring old annual conference when it used to meet up in the mountains from time to time. She came to my recitals, band concerts, and graduations. She’s in most of the pictures of my immediate family at all of our significant events. I miss her.

And then there is the experience that summer job ending that I mentioned. It was at our conference youth camp. The first summer I spent there was when I was 20, although I had been attending there for years one week out of the summer—my very favorite week, I might add! And when I finally got to stay on Friday night past when all the parents left, it was quite literally one of the biggest thrills of my life. There was nothing like it. We were paid to have fun, to pray, to participate in the spiritual formation of kids and youth, and to build an authentic Christian community. The friends I made that summer are still some of the closest I have, and the day we had to leave, I felt heartache like I had never felt before. It felt like death; something was over that I could never have back. Even if I returned to that place, the people weren’t there. Even if we returned together in a group, the campers weren’t there. It looked different in the winter than in the summer. The atmosphere wasn’t as full of life. Oh I cried and cried that day. I just couldn’t imagine what the next day would be like, or the next week or month.

It would be a mistake to imagine that the disciples felt any of the things I’ve described already when they gathered for their last meal with Jesus. They had no real idea that they were about to lose their beloved leader to death, or that the authentic community in which they had been living with Christ was about to come to an end as they knew it. I think, rather, than Jesus might have been feeling these things. I think that Jesus might have been feeling sadness and pain, loss and grief, because he knew that he was about to lose this, too, this community that he had built and on which he had come to depend. These were his brothers, like family, and they had lived together in laughter and tears, and tomorrow it would all be over. What would the next day possibly be like? How would they go on without him? And what would it be like for him to be present with them in the days to come but in a completely different way?

I think that is what faith is all about—this belief in things hoped for but not yet seen.

I still feel Aunt Inez yet she is no longer seen in my physical eyes. I feel her in my parents’ home when I go to visit even now. I feel her in her house when I go to help my dad work there from time to time. I feel her in my own home when I tell Dave stories about her from my childhood. I feel her in my dad’s tears when he talks about her. She is not gone from me; she’s not gone from my family; she’s not even gone from this earth completely because we who are still alive here have pictures of her in our minds and hearts—still photographs in our minds’ eyes of her hugging us, helping us, loving us. It’s like…as our grief begins to become joy, as our tears turn from sadness to fondness, we are putting her, putting her presence, putting her memory back together. We are re-membering Aunt Inez.

And that community in which I was so deeply formed all those years ago at summer camp—that community is still so real for me that when I’m in the presence of some of the ones who made up that community, I still feel it! I feel love, acceptance, and accountability for who I am and whom I serve. The memories that I helped to create there play back in my mind’s eye to remind me of where it is from which I come—a group of people who, having loved me then, will love me to the end. It is a presence as palpable for me as yours here tonight. It is that body of Christ being re-formed, re-membered in my heart.
Isn’t that what Christ calls us to do this night? Whenever you are together again, re-member me; re-build this community, this body so that we go on and on through time spreading love and grace that comes from God in Christ. “As often as you gather around a table for food and drink, remember me:”
• Remember all that I have done in your sight.
• Remember how I have healed with my touch.
• Remember how I have loved with my words.
• Remember how I have served with my actions.
• Remember how I have shown you the ways of God.

Do this for the remembering of me.

Love one another. Love each other like there’s no tomorrow. Love each other when it’s hard to love each other. Love each other even after you have passed from this life to the next. Love each other, and in doing so, love me. Remember me. Put back together the loving, thriving body of Christ, the authentic community in which you have lived and served…and loved before.

We re-member together the gracious, extraordinary, sacrifical, undeserved love of Christ. We re-member the acts of healing and hospitality and peace that he exemplified and then called us to follow. We remember that he is the Son of God and we offer our praise. We remember that we will be recognized in the love of Christ we receive through this sacrament and that we are called to practice that same love on one another. We re-member the body of Christ so that we may be equipped to heal with our touch, love with our words, serve with our actions, and search for the ways of God.

Let us re-member every time we meet at table for food and drink that Jesus Christ, in love far more amazing than we can ever comprehend, loves us. Every action of his life and death show us that love. We claim our Christian identity in that love. We are called to share, to make real, to re-member that love.

May it be, friends. Amen.