Homily - Maundy Thursday B (Thursday before Easter in Year B)

Love.  Love and serve.  Love.  Serve.   The themes tonight are pretty clear, and oft-repeated.  We hear about Jesus washing the feet of his disciples, in a role-reversing servant leadership story. Because of what it teaches us, every year, we recreate the foot washing tonight.  More than being an uncomfortable moment where someone sees your feet, it’s an amazing human-to-human contact, modeled by Jesus.  More on that another year. 

In addition to the foot washing, on Maundy Thursday we share a communal meal before the service, as we honor that first holy banquet, the Eucharist.  The Eucharist is so central to our faith, we repeat it every Sunday, and at services in between.  It is sure and certain way to encounter Christ. That and Baptism are the two great sacraments.  Through communion, we strengthen our union with Christ, and with one another.  

The catechism or the Outline of Faith in the back of the prayer book instructs us about what is required of us when we come to the Eucharist.  It says that in preparation of coming to the table, each of us should “examine your lives and repent of your sins”.    But did you know that it lists another requirement too?  It says to come to the communion table, we are required to be in love and charity with all people?  All people. 

While that is a tall order, the simple act of coming to the table strengthens us to love more, which in turn makes us better able to come to the table in love and charity with all people.  At each Eucharist we are strengthened and bolstered to love and serve more. 

Tonight we heard about Christ’s first Eucharist, and we celebrate that every week at church.  Whenever you do this, do this in remembrance of me.  One of the beauties of the Eucharist is that it is comprised of simple, every day items and every day actions.  It includes something to eat - bread, and something to drink - wine.  I encounter things to eat and drink every day, frequently bread and wine.  These things are all around us, not just here at church.  Whenever you do this.    

Not only are the things in the Eucharist commonplace, the actions are too. In the Eucharist, a meal is prepared, served and shared, we feast and we show hospitality.  Those actions are not reserved for the Eucharist, we all do them daily. The Eucharist is comprised of things we do and things we encounter every day.   

In the Old Testament reading, we hear about a traditional Passover meal, similar to the one Jesus was sharing with his friends, with lots of details provided.  A year old male sheep, roasted, not boiled, calling for specific herbs.  The details are provided to assure that the food quality, food safety and presentation are just right, and they  indicate the care taken in preparing the meal.  A meal prepared, whether it’s a Passover feast, the Eucharistic table, peeling pounds of acorn squash for Lenten dinners, making dinner for your family, or stirring oatmeal at a community breakfast, preparing a meal is a holy thing. Through it, you take a gift from God, the food.  You mix it with another gift from God, your skills and time.  And you create a brand new creation for yourself or someone else.   

We refer to the Eucharist as the banquet feast.  And holy feasting isn’t reserved for Eucharistic feasts.  Whether it’s a gourmet feast, or pigs in a blanket on a busy night, or dinner at the drive through, you are receiving the gift of food from God, harvested and prepared for you by a child of God. A holy thing indeed.  

Preparing, serving, sharing and eating a meal are things we all do.  They are sacred at this table.  They are sacred whenever you do this.  

That first Eucharist teaches us about more than just food, as much as I love food. It teaches about being hospitable, which Webster’s defines as the generous and cordial reception of guests.    

Imagine that evening that we celebrate tonight.  Everyone is gathered. Jesus knows he will be betrayed.  He probably has at least an inkling of how the night will turn out.  Instead of fleeing, hiding, or fighting, he spends the evening with his closest friends, sharing a meal, being quite hospitable.  He was being generous and cordial with his companions, despite what he was facing, and despite the fact that Judas, who later betrayed him was at the table with him. 

At that table, Christ says to all those gathered whenever you gather, “do this in remembrance of me”.  More than just a sentimental or nostalgic notion of remembrances, the word remember originally was the process of putting everything back together.  Re-member.  We are all members of Christ’s body.  So to re-member means to re gather, reconnect, rejoin all of us. And not just all of us in this room, all of us.  Everywhere.  All of God’s people.  Even Judas.   Do This for the Re-Membrance of me.  It’s in our together-ness, we can re-member Christ.

Madeline L’Engle, author of the “Wrinkle in Time”, and a great theologian, wrote a story that speaks to this.

“After his death Judas found himself at the bottom of a deep and slimy pit. For thousands of years he wept his repentance, and when the tears were finally spent he looked up and saw, way, way up, a tiny glimmer of light. After he had contemplated it for another thousand years or so, he began to try to climb up towards it. The walls of the pit were dank and slimy, and he kept slipping back down. Finally, after great effort, he neared the top, and then he slipped and fell all the way back down. It took him many years to recover, all the time weeping bitter tears of grief and repentance, and then he started to climb up again. After many more falls and efforts and failures he reached the top and dragged himself into an upper room with twelve people seated around a table. "We've been waiting for you, Judas," Jesus said. "We couldn't begin till you came."

Through the Eucharist, we are shown hospitality, and we are strengthened and encouraged to show that same hospitality to others.  Martin Luther, John Calvin, John Wesley, and others have seen hospitality as a ministry to Christ.  When hosting strangers in his home for a meal, Luther said “God himself is in our home, is being fed at our table.” 

Imagine that.  Serving God through your hospitality.  That could be newcomers or visitors at St. Thomas. It could be your neighbors.  It could be the people at the community breakfast. It doesn’t matter.  When you are hospitable in your home, at coffee hour, you are being welcoming.  More important, you are recognizing the dignity and value of others, serving Christ in the other.   

When we do that, we are able to take a step closer to re-membering Christ.

You may be thinking that you couldn’t serve or show hospitality to strangers, especially strangers who are different.  It would be too awkward.  But think about the last supper.  Jesus showed hospitality to Judas.  Judas.  And Christ knew what was in store. The man who was to betray him was at his table, welcomed and loved by Christ.  Following his lead, we should strive to be hospitable to everyone, friend, stranger, betrayer.  Everyone. 

So where does that leave us?

Try to see the holy in the food you prepare, share and eat. 

Strive to be welcoming and hospitable here.  Invite others to this feast, and make it accessible to them.  

Be strengthened by the Eucharist to come to the Eucharist in love and charity with all people.

And having been strengthened here, go out into the world and using these common items and actions, bread, wine, preparing, sharing, feasting,  and serving, to share God’s love.  

Whenever you do this, do this in remembrance of me.