A Sermon for Maundy Thursday
March 28, 2024
Text: John 13:1-35
God of love, we come to you this night in prayer, and we ask you to draw near to us as we continue our journey through Holy Week. On this night, we especially pray for the will and strength to persevere in our call to walk in love with grace and humility, following the example Jesus has set for us and remembering his commandment to love one another as we have been loved. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Ever since I joined the Episcopal Church, I’ve had a deep and abiding love for Holy Week. I’ve attended Holy Week services more times than I can remember over the past twenty years, and I’ve tried hard not to miss a single one. During my senior year of seminary, I actually did an independent study with one of my professors on the liturgies of Holy Week.
Because I love this time. I love all the special parts of the services that we only get to experience once a year. I love the unfolding drama that takes place between the events of Palm Sunday and Easter. I love the mystery of Holy Week and how this time invites us into a deeper and more meaningful relationship with Christ.
But this time is also deeply emotional for me and for so many others.
Every year, I get particularly emotional as we get closer and closer to Holy Week. I might be working on a sermon or a service bulletin, and I’ll just start to get choked up for no explainable reason other than the fact that this week is heavy—in more ways than one.
It’s heavy because we know what’s coming. We know that, before we can experience the joy of resurrection on Easter, we have to walk with Christ from the Upper Room, where he shared a final meal with his disciples, to the Cross, where he suffered and gave up his life, and then finally to the Tomb, where his body was laid, awaiting the day of resurrection.
This week is heavy because we love Jesus, and to be reminded once again of what Jesus went through in the final hours of his life is heart wrenching. The betrayal. The humiliation and the pain. The undeserved death.
This week is heavy because we don’t just listen to the story from the outside, as if we were reading a book or watching a movie. These liturgies—especially on Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and the Easter Vigil—draw us into the story and invite us to walk with Christ as active participants in his death and resurrection.
So, in the spirit of being drawn into the story, I’d like for us to reflect on our Gospel reading for tonight, which takes place on the night before Jesus died.
I’d like for us to reflect on three characters in particular—three perspectives. You might think of this as a time of “holy imagining,” of wondering what it might’ve been like for these three individuals on that last night with Jesus and then wondering if we might have something to learn about ourselves and our relationship with Christ in the process.
So imagine, for a moment, that you’re in the Upper Room, seated around a large dinner table with Jesus and the others. In the time of Jesus, Jews didn’t sit up at the dinner table, as we do today. They reclined on pillows and cushions and were seated around a table that was low to the ground.
It’s night time, and the only light in the room is provided by candles and maybe a few oil lamps.
Supper has ended, and there’s still food left on the table—including the bread and the wine that Jesus blessed and shared, signifying his Body and Blood.
Then, all of a sudden, Jesus gets up from the dinner table, takes off his outer robe, and ties a towel around himself. Then, he carefully pours water into a basin and begins making his way around the table, kneeling down and washing the feet of his disciples.
He eventually comes to Peter.
At first, Peter is shocked by what Jesus is doing. He thinks to himself, “Disciples are supposed to wash their masters’ feet. Not the other way around.” At first, he refuses to have his feet washed by Jesus. But, then Jesus tells Peter that unless he washes him, he can have no share with him. Unless he allows himself to be served by Jesus, he can never learn how to serve others.
Peter’s pride gets in his way, at first. Or maybe…just maybe…Peter felt deep down that he wasn’t good enough to be served by Jesus or that he wasn’t worthy of such love and compassion.
Do you find yourself in Peter’s place?
Like Peter, do you struggle with letting pride and your ego get in the way of your relationship with God? Do you find yourself thinking that your way is better than God’s way? Do you find it hard to accept God’s unconditional love?
Then, as Jesus continues around the table, he eventually comes to the Beloved Disciple—the one whom Jesus loved. This disciple is unnamed in the Gospel of John, but most people agree that it was likely John himself.
The Beloved Disciple is the one who reclined next to Jesus while they were eating supper. He is close to Jesus. I would imagine that when Jesus comes to wash his feet, there’s a lot of confusion as to what’s going on.
Did Jesus know something he didn’t? Was something terrible about to happen?
Maybe he could tell that pressure was mounting outside in the city. Maybe he knew deep down that this was the last time he would share a meal with his friend and teacher. Maybe there was an air of sadness and mourning in the room.
Perhaps what began as a lively meal with laughter and conversation had quickly turned into something much more serious. Perhaps the Beloved Disciple was afraid for what was about to happen to Jesus and felt helpless in being able to stop it.
Do you find yourself in the place of the Beloved Disciple?
Do you find that fear is a stumbling block for you in your faith? Do you feel helpless in being able to serve Jesus—especially in those moments when the evils of this world seem to be closing in and getting stronger?
Finally, Jesus comes to the one who was about to betray him.
Yes. Jesus washed Judas’ feet, too.
Maybe Judas is the one we understand the least. Or maybe he’s the one we understand the most. How could he betray Jesus, knowing good and well what the religious leaders planned to do? How could he betray the one who loved him so much? Maybe it was greed. He was a thief, after all.
Or maybe he really didn’t understand what it was that Jesus was trying to accomplish.
Or maybe…just maybe…Judas was frustrated and angry. Maybe he was angry because Jesus didn’t live up to his expectations. He wasn’t the warrior king that he—or anyone else—expected in the Messiah.
We don’t really know exactly what caused Judas to turn his back on Jesus, but something did.
And even though his plans to betray Jesus were already in motion, Jesus washed his feet anyway, and he gave Judas every opportunity to repent and be forgiven.
Do you find yourself in the place of Judas?
We’ve all betrayed Jesus in our lives, in one way or another. Every time we allow our own self-centeredness to get in the way of our ability to serve and follow, we turn our backs on Jesus. Every time we fall short of our baptismal promises, we turn our backs on Jesus.
The Good News, dear friends—and it really is Good News—is that Jesus loves us anyway. Despite our shortcomings and failures, Jesus loves us more than we can possibly imagine and always leaves the door open for us to repent and be forgiven.
So, tonight, whether you find yourself in the story in the place of Peter, or the Beloved Disciple, or Judas—or maybe a combination of the three—be at peace in knowing that God is merciful and kind. Be at peace in knowing that, in the end, we really have nothing to fear because God is with us and will never leave us to walk this journey alone.
Amen.
The Rev. Eric Mancil 