Maundy Thursday Sermon from Jerusalem 2020
MAUNDY THURSDAY 2020
Rev. Carrie Ballenger
Lutheran Church of the Redeemer, Jerusalem
Photo above by Brittany Browning
(click link to watch)
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my
heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my strength and my Redeemer. Amen.
There’s a story told about St. John the
Evangelist, that when he was old and frail, and no longer able to preach long
sermons, his disciples would carry him to the crowd with great difficulty. And
when he got there, every time, he would just repeat this same phrase over and
over: “My dear children, love one another.
My dear children, love one another. My dear children, love one another.”
When the crowd, tired of hearing the same old thing, asked why he kept
repeating it, he answered: "Because it is the command of the Lord, and if you
comply with it, you do enough.”
Dear friends, this is
Maundy Thursday, the day we remember the mandatum, or commandment, that
followers of Jesus are to love one another as Jesus has loved us. Most years,
here at Redeemer Church we gather with our German, Palestinian, Danish,
Swedish, Dutch, and Finnish sisters and brothers (among others) for a big
international worship service. Prayers and readings are offered in as many as
12 different languages. Short sermons on Holy Communion and foot-washing are
given in 2 of those languages. And then, we gather at the table as one
beautifully diverse and global church, to share the presence of Jesus in the
bread and the wine with one another.
Although coordinating
that multilingual service can be chaotic and gives me a headache almost every
year, I’m really missing it this year, along with our other Holy Week and
Easter traditions. I think especially on this day—when we remember how Jesus
gathered for a dinner party with 12 of his closest friends—it feels sad that we
must be so separate for this Holy Week. It has been many weeks (and will be
many weeks more) before 12 of us can be gathered anywhere together!
Gathering at the
table for Holy Communion, in remembrance of the Last Supper, is an essential
part of any Maundy Thursday service, but although we always have a meditation
on foot-washing, to my knowledge we have never held a foot-washing service
here. I suppose I’m not too surprised, as my experience is this is a hard sell
with most congregations. Every time I’ve brought up the idea in a council
meeting or with a worship, it’s been met with a resounding “Oh no, Pastor! I
don’t want people to see my feet.”
Our discomfort with
this tradition (which some church denominations do carry on, by the way) is
probably not just about feet. Fear of being seen, truly seen, is at the root of
what makes us uncomfortable about following this command and including it in
our liturgies, even though the Lord said clearly “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.”
(Side note: You know
what’s funny? Right now, after weeks of isolation, I would love to be seen! And
I would love to see all of you! Feet and all!)
I have this memory of
a Maundy Thursday service held at the church I served before I moved to
Jerusalem. It was a large church, but there was a very small crowd at this Holy
Week service because—you guessed it—people heard we were doing foot-washing.
When we got to that
part of the liturgy, the assistant pastor and I washed each other’s feet as an
example, and then we nervously sat with towels and bowls of water, ready to
wash whoever came forward.
And no one did.
There were some very
awkward moments as I started to make alternate plans in my head (What if no one
comes? How do I end this disaster gracefully?) until 5-year old Annika came down the
aisle. She kicked off her shoes, sat down, and stuck her feet in front of me.
She was ready to be washed!
There was a
collective sigh of relief from the congregation, and lots of smiles, because of course,
Annika was very very cute.
And then something
amazing happened. Annika took my towel and, together with her grandmother, took
over my bowl of water. Annika wanted to wash feet! Soon she had plenty of them
to wash, as people started to come forward. Each time someone stood up from
being washed by her tiny hands, Annika looked out at the congregation with a
look that said “I see you have feet. Get up here!”
Annika didn’t see
imperfect toes or calloused heels, she saw her church family. She didn’t see a
former Bishop coming to be washed, she saw her friend Rafael. Annika she saw an
opportunity to get involved. She also saw an opportunity to play in water, for
sure! But most of all, she saw an opportunity to love, in a way that was brand
new for her. And she blessed us all in doing it.
Dear friends, Maundy
Thursday isn’t really about feet, or about foot-washing. This day is about the
kind of love Jesus has for us, which was demonstrated on that holy night when
he knelt and washed the feet of his disciples. This is a love that is bigger than
Coronavirus. It’s a love that’s bigger than our fears. It’s a love that sees
us, for who we really are, and then loves us even more. It’s a love that lasts
to the cross and beyond.
Jesus’ entire
life—his ministry, his teachings, and ultimately his suffering with us and for
us on the cross—inaugurated a new way of loving one another and the world. And
on the night in which he was betrayed, Jesus, the King of Love, passed that new
way on to us, commanding us: love one another as I have loved you.
Yes, we are
commanded, we are mandated, we are called and sent to love. Even when we don’t
feel like it. Even when it is hard. Even when we must do it in new and different ways. it is new and different.
Sometimes that looks
like sharing a meal. Sometimes it looks like physical intimacy. Sometimes it
looks like political action or advocacy.
But right now,
because of coronavirus, love looks like staying home. It looks like wearing
masks and gloves if we must go out.
It looks like
checking in on one another—on neighbors nearby, or on family and friends far
away.
It looks like telling
the truth and not spreading false information about the virus.
And it looks like
doing these things again, and again, and again, for as long as it takes, for they will know we
are Christians by our love.
Amid all the terrible
news out there these days, I saw this news story which gave me pause. The
headline was “St. John the Divine to become hospital.”
The Cathedral of St
John the Divine in Manhattan, the largest gothic cathedral in the world, will
become a hospital in these next few days. That by itself is a huge thing. What
an act of great love that is! I can’t think of a better use of a church
building in these days.
But there was another
part of the story that leaped out at me. The article went on to say that
Samaritan’s Purse – an organization run by Franklin Graham – has also been
involved in making this hospital plan happen. Now, Samaritan’s Purse and the
Episcopal Church hold very different theological views, as well as views on
justice issues. For example, the leaders of Samaritan’s Purse have been known
for some pretty extreme anti-Muslim and anti-LGBT speech.
But Dean Daniel of
the St. John the Divine Cathedral had this to say about the unlikely
cooperation between the two groups:
“I don’t agree with
their position on Muslims and gays and a number of other things, but I am
willing to work together with them to save lives,” he said. “I feel like it is
sort of like the steward on the Titanic as it is sinking—now is not the time to
count the silverware, you have to get people into lifeboats.”
Now is not the time
to count the silverware. Now is the time for lifeboats. I love that! There are
so many reasons why, in regular times, these two groups might choose not to
partner together. But for love, they have begun to do a new thing. For love of
neighbor, they have decided to truly see one another. For love of Jesus, they
are washing each other’s feet. And many will be blessed as a result.
I pray that during
this time of quarantine, of being separate and yet together, of learning to do
things in a new way, we also will stop counting silverware, and start seeing
each other. I pray we will see Christ in each other. More importantly, I pray that
in this time, we will start seeing just how expansive God’s love is for us, for
those who are different from us, and indeed for the whole world.
In the words of St.
John:
Dear friends, love one another. Dear friends,
love one another. Dear friends…love one another! Amen.
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