Maundy Thursday 2020: May God’s words be spoken, may God’s words be heard. Amen.
Tonight we begin.
Tonight we enter into a three day service – the Paschal Triduum. You will note that at the end of tonight and tomorrow night there will be no dismissal or blessing – no neat ending to the service or virtual coffee hour afterward…because it is not yet over. Tonight’s service continues tomorrow night, and concludes on Easter, which we celebrate on Sunday morning.
The Paschal Triduum is the story of our faith– where darkness and light, betrayal and love, death and life – are intertwined. It is also the story in which we find ourselves now. A few years ago I told you that “to stand in darkness without the knowledge of light will kill us of hope. And to stand in light without the knowledge of darkness will blind us to suffering. Our faith demands both.” This time in which we find ourselves demands both too, and what we do in these three days matters, perhaps now more than ever before.
And so we begin this journey here – with Jesus at table with his friends – including the one who will betray him, and the one who will deny him – on the night before he would be crucified. It is Maundy Thursday, Maundy being the Latin meaning mandate or commandment. And that mandate is the one we hear tonight. Jesus asks his followers to love one another – and then lives out the very thing he teaches – he kneels before each of them and washes their feet.
Usually on this night we are given an opportunity to do as Jesus did, to wash the feet of another as a form of humble service, as an offering of love to another of God’s children, as a model of Jesus in our lives. But this too has been changed.
In this time of separation, we are not able to kneel before another and wash that person’s feet, and we are not able to have our own feet washed. Now some of you may be relieved by that – not being into the whole taking off your shoes and socks thing – but sadly our natural reluctance to be vulnerable in this way robs us, and our sister and brothers in Christ, of something important. When you came to have your feet washed, it was a gift you offered to the one who served you. And when you washed the feet of another, you had an opportunity to walk as Christ commanded, to be one with Him, in this humble act of love.
Yet in the very absence of our traditional form of living into Maundy Thursday we are able to re-focus our attention, and to perhaps better understand what Jesus was trying to tell us – because it’s not about clean feet.
The reason Jesus chooses the washing of feet is because in that time it was an act of hospitality, a necessary and ordinary task a host would offer in a time in which people walked in open footwear, often on dusty dirt roads. And when he does this, and for whom he chose to do this, is as important as the act itself.
The reality is that this wasn’t his sole act of love he offered to his disciples – they abided with him in his love from the moment they were called to his side. Yet he chose this night, the night on which he would be betrayed, the night prior to his suffering and death and the denial by one of his own – this is the night he chose to kneel before them – even before his betrayer Judas and his denier Peter. And he commanded them, and now us, to do the same.
What great love is this that he calls us to?
It is love in the face of betrayal, in the loneliness of being denied.
Because this whole foot washing act wasn’t about clean feet at all – it was to demonstrate something Jesus needed us to understand – especially now – and it is this: If we truly want to follow Him, then we must model him in the world, and we do this not through extraordinary acts of piety, but through ordinary acts of humble service offered in love, offered even in the midst of our own pain.
What a message for our time, is it not?
Right now, we are being denied and betrayed by this pandemic.
We are being betrayed by a disease we cannot see, and seem unable to stop, and by national leaders who have failed us.
We are being denied the ministry of presence we so often need and offer – at the beside of a loved one who is sick, or gathered together in worship, or at a funeral, or even just the hug of a good friend. And some are being denied the ability to earn a living wage – fearful of losing their homes, as houses of worship and small businesses try to stay afloat.
Yet Jesus calls us to ordinary acts of service given in love, especially when we are most in need of it ourselves. So, what does this mean for us today? How do we wash the proverbial feet of another?
It may take the form of phone calls to neighbors and fellow parishioners, or making masks for hospital workers, or picking up groceries for the most vulnerable you know, or praying daily for all who suffer, or joining with your sisters and brothers in Christ here in virtual worship. It may also take the form of gofundme efforts and other ways of supporting those in financial need, ,or offering as you can to the places you call your spiritual home. And perhaps the most important act of love is being kind to yourself – for even Jesus allowed Mary to wash and anoint his feet – knowing the gift he was giving her, and knowing perhaps he needed it too. For if we are to love, really love, we must first love ourselves, and allow ourselves to be loved.
So the possibilities abound for us now, but it is the hope that is found in these acts of love that is the gift Christ gives us.
For Jesus knew that in the face of betrayal, suffering, denial, and death, hope is always possible where love is planted, and without hope, we are lost.
That is why he chose this night.
That is why he chose this particular act of humble service.
That is why he commanded us to love as he loved.
Because Jesus knew that we would face our own trials, our own betrayals, our own painful denials, our own isolation and despair. And he knew that if we could hold fast to love – His love for us, and ours for one another – we would not be lost.
For the darkness in which we find ourselves in this pandemic – the darkness of isolation, of illness, of death – will not have the last word, but through our acts of humble love offered to others in his name, in whatever form they may have to take now – will be our hope and grace.
That is the story of our faith – that in the despair of the cross is the joy of the empty tomb. And the key to moving from one to the other is found in love – Jesus’ great love for us, and ours for Him and one another.
And so we begin here tonight, not with joy and light, but in darkness and pain. This is where we must begin – there is no other path to Easter but through Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. All else is a shallow experience best left to chocolate bunnies and egg hunts.
Tonight we experience God’s love in Jesus’ humility amidst his own betrayal and denial – as we face our own long night of suffering in this time of separation.
Tonight we enter into our three day journey that changed the world, that will change us, if we let it.
Tonight we commit ourselves to him – to loving one another as he loved us, most especially in his, and our darkest hour.
Amen.
For the audio, click below, or subscribe to our iTunes Sermon Podcast by clicking here:
The Rev. Diana L. Wilcox
Christ Church in Bloomfield & Glen Ridge
April 9, 2020
Maundy Thursday In A Time Of Separation
1st Reading – Exodus 12:1-4, (5-10), 11-14
Psalm 116:1, 10-17
2nd Reading – 1 Corinthians 11:23-26
Gospel – John 13:1-17, 31b-35
