Sermon on Maundy Thursday 2016

Sermon at Lancaster Priory

The Revd Dr Liz Horwell

So now in our Holy Week observances we begin to mark out in our liturgy the final events of Jesus’ life.

In Matthew, Mark and Luke, this evening is marked by the Passover meal where Jesus blesses bread and wine and shares them with his disciples just as Jewish families had done every year ever since God led them out of slavery in Egypt. Except that here, instead of simply blessing the bread and wine, Jesus uses what must have seemed rather bizarre words: “This is my body given for you… this is my blood, shed for you….. Do this to remember me.”

Now obviously the whole atmosphere is tense: they all know Jesus has made many enemies amongst the religious leaders – and he’s rampaged around the temple this week overturning the money lenders tables and accusing them of making his father’s house a den of robbers. So none of his disciples can be oblivious to the fact that the religious leaders are baying for Jesus’ blood! And yet, in none of these gospel accounts do we get any sense that the disciples think these words prophetic. They seem to be not at all ready for what is to come in the next hours. They’re more interested in ‘who’ will betray Jesus than in the impact of the betrayal. There’s no sense of them rallying to protect Jesus in all this, for all Peter’s: “Even though all become deserters, I will not” Indeed we know that they’ll all flee the scene when he’s arrested, even Peter.

These words have been central to our Christian lives and worship ever since that night, they’re words that replenish us week by week, year every year, to help us live more fully as Christ’s followers, yet they seem to have elicited no comment at all when Jesus first says them.

John’s gospel has different timing: his ‘Last Supper’ happens the day before the Passover and is simply a shared meal and Jesus’ last ‘pep’ talk to his friends. John, then, has Jesus’ death timed when the Passover lambs would have been slaughtered for the Passover meal. So John sees Jesus as symbolisingthe Passover lamb slaughtered to save the people. Except Jesus has choice in his slaughter: he can opt out if he wants; Passover lambs can’t.

And John doesn’t have Jesus mention bread and wine being His body and blood. Instead he takes off his outer robe, wraps a towel about him and kneels to wash the dust of the day from his disciples’ hot, sweaty feet; taking his disciples by surprise yet again, for foot-washing was the task of the lowliest servant – not what they expect from their Lord.

Yet foot-washing fits so well with everything in Jesus’ ministry. Foot-washing shows the same humility as his coming to earth as a baby in a stable. It shows that Jesus never intended to lord it over the people. His kingship is always one of serving rather than being served. It matches the new commandment that he gives them this evening: “Just as I have loved you, so are you to love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples: if you have love for one another”.

Jesus undertakes this lowliest of tasks, not because he thinks he ought to, but out of love, because he’s running out of time to show them exactly how he wants them to live. He already knows that Judas will hand him over, that all his friends will desert him in the next few hours, that Peter will deny him three times this same night. Yet he loves them with a love so great that he tenderly washes and dries their feet.

…..And I wonder how our Christian faith would have developed if, instead of taking the words of Institution and using them to develop the Eucharist as our central liturgy, we had taken the foot-washing and used that to create a liturgy to mark us out as Christians? For, let us be absolutely clear, foot-washing does symbolisehow we are to be as Christians.

Foot-washing – whether you’re on the receiving end or the offering end – is a very intimate act; a sharing; an offering out; an act of humility and love for both washer and washed.

Peter doesn’t want Jesus to wash his feet because he feels so unworthy of his Lord. He knows he’s sinful; and his own sense of place in the scheme of things makes him blurt out that there’s no way Jesuscan do this for him. But Jesus smiles and tells him gently: unless you allow meto do this, you can have no share with me.

Being humble enough to allow others to care for us is as much a part of our Christian witness as being humble enough to serve others – all others, even those we might mistakenly believe to be of lower status, whatever that might mean. For in Jesus’ terms status does not exist: we’re all children before God. The humility of foot-washing belies any sense of theself-importance and self-righteousness that Jesus came to challenge: the self-importance and self-righteousness that ultimately put Jesus on the cross.

And if we believe that Jesus is the most perfect revelation of God, then the foot-washing speaks to us of our God so much louder than words can. It tells us that our God is willing out of pure love (despite all our failings, our indifference to injustice, our petty jealousies and gripes and misdemeanours) to kneel before us and wash us clean, to wipe our tears, and set us on our feet to try again. How could such a God demand in anger that his son should die in order that our sins might be forgiven? Our God forgives with abundant love and grace. Our God offers out his love again and again and waits for our response – whatever that might be.

In a few moments 12 people here will come and re-enact the foot-washing. And as they do I ask everyone here to imagine themselves back with Jesus at that supper; imagine Jesus washing your feet. Remember that he knows all that you are and all that you have been but his love for you is tender and true. Acknowledge his deep love for you. Remember that His love reveals the Father’s love for you too.

And whenever you find yourself struggling with feelings of self-doubt remember how he comes to wash your feet. When you’re struggling with feelings of self-righteousness or self-importance remember how, when Jesus washes your feet, he asks you in turn to be willing to wash the feet of others – all others, for we are all equal in God’s eyes, we are all God’s beloved children.

In Matthew, Mark and Luke, this evening is marked by the Passover meal where Jesus blesses bread and wine and shares them with his disciples just as Jewish families had done every year ever since God led them out of slavery in Egypt. Except that here, instead of simply blessing the bread and wine, Jesus uses what must have seemed rather bizarre words: “This is my body given for you… this is my blood, shed for you….. Do this to remember me.”

Now obviously the whole atmosphere is tense: they all know Jesus has made many enemies amongst the religious leaders – and he’s rampaged around the temple this week overturning the money lenders tables and accusing them of making his father’s house a den of robbers. So none of his disciples can be oblivious to the fact that the religious leaders are baying for Jesus’ blood! And yet, in none of these gospel accounts do we get any sense that the disciples think these words prophetic. They seem to be not at all ready for what is to come in the next hours. They’re more interested in ‘who’ will betray Jesus than in the impact of the betrayal. There’s no sense of them rallying to protect Jesus in all this, for all Peter’s: “Even though all become deserters, I will not” Indeed we know that they’ll all flee the scene when he’s arrested, even Peter.

These words have been central to our Christian lives and worship ever since that night, they’re words that replenish us week by week, year every year, to help us live more fully as Christ’s followers, yet they seem to have elicited no comment at all when Jesus first says them.

John’s gospel has different timing: his ‘Last Supper’ happens the day before the Passover and is simply a shared meal and Jesus’ last ‘pep’ talk to his friends. John, then, has Jesus’ death timed when the Passover lambs would have been slaughtered for the Passover meal. So John sees Jesus as symbolisingthe Passover lamb slaughtered to save the people. Except Jesus has choice in his slaughter: he can opt out if he wants; Passover lambs can’t.

And John doesn’t have Jesus mention bread and wine being His body and blood. Instead he takes off his outer robe, wraps a towel about him and kneels to wash the dust of the day from his disciples’ hot, sweaty feet; taking his disciples by surprise yet again, for foot-washing was the task of the lowliest servant – not what they expect from their Lord.

Yet foot-washing fits so well with everything in Jesus’ ministry. Foot-washing shows the same humility as his coming to earth as a baby in a stable. It shows that Jesus never intended to lord it over the people. His kingship is always one of serving rather than being served. It matches the new commandment that he gives them this evening: “Just as I have loved you, so are you to love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples: if you have love for one another”.

Jesus undertakes this lowliest of tasks, not because he thinks he ought to, but out of love, because he’s running out of time to show them exactly how he wants them to live. He already knows that Judas will hand him over, that all his friends will desert him in the next few hours, that Peter will deny him three times this same night. Yet he loves them with a love so great that he tenderly washes and dries their feet.

…..And I wonder how our Christian faith would have developed if, instead of taking the words of Institution and using them to develop the Eucharist as our central liturgy, we had taken the foot-washing and used that to create a liturgy to mark us out as Christians? For, let us be absolutely clear, foot-washing does symbolisehow we are to be as Christians.

Foot-washing – whether you’re on the receiving end or the offering end – is a very intimate act; a sharing; an offering out; an act of humility and love for both washer and washed.

Peter doesn’t want Jesus to wash his feet because he feels so unworthy of his Lord. He knows he’s sinful; and his own sense of place in the scheme of things makes him blurt out that there’s no way Jesuscan do this for him. But Jesus smiles and tells him gently: unless you allow meto do this, you can have no share with me.

Being humble enough to allow others to care for us is as much a part of our Christian witness as being humble enough to serve others – all others, even those we might mistakenly believe to be of lower status, whatever that might mean. For in Jesus’ terms status does not exist: we’re all children before God. The humility of foot-washing belies any sense of theself-importance and self-righteousness that Jesus came to challenge: the self-importance and self-righteousness that ultimately put Jesus on the cross.

And if we believe that Jesus is the most perfect revelation of God, then the foot-washing speaks to us of our God so much louder than words can. It tells us that our God is willing out of pure love (despite all our failings, our indifference to injustice, our petty jealousies and gripes and misdemeanours) to kneel before us and wash us clean, to wipe our tears, and set us on our feet to try again. How could such a God demand in anger that his son should die in order that our sins might be forgiven? Our God forgives with abundant love and grace. Our God offers out his love again and again and waits for our response – whatever that might be.

In a few moments 12 people here will come and re-enact the foot-washing. And as they do I ask everyone here to imagine themselves back with Jesus at that supper; imagine Jesus washing your feet. Remember that he knows all that you are and all that you have been but his love for you is tender and true. Acknowledge his deep love for you. Remember that His love reveals the Father’s love for you too.

And whenever you find yourself struggling with feelings of self-doubt remember how he comes to wash your feet. When you’re struggling with feelings of self-righteousness or self-importance remember how, when Jesus washes your feet, he asks you in turn to be willing to wash the feet of others – all others, for we are all equal in God’s eyes, we are all God’s beloved children.

So now in our Holy Week observances we begin to mark out in our liturgy the final events of Jesus’ life.

In Matthew, Mark and Luke, this evening is marked by the Passover meal where Jesus blesses bread and wine and shares them with his disciples just as Jewish families had done every year ever since God led them out of slavery in Egypt. Except that here, instead of simply blessing the bread and wine, Jesus uses what must have seemed rather bizarre words: “This is my body given for you… this is my blood, shed for you….. Do this to remember me.”

Now obviously the whole atmosphere is tense: they all know Jesus has made many enemies amongst the religious leaders – and he’s rampaged around the temple this week overturning the money lenders tables and accusing them of making his father’s house a den of robbers. So none of his disciples can be oblivious to the fact that the religious leaders are baying for Jesus’ blood! And yet, in none of these gospel accounts do we get any sense that the disciples think these words prophetic. They seem to be not at all ready for what is to come in the next hours. They’re more interested in ‘who’ will betray Jesus than in the impact of the betrayal. There’s no sense of them rallying to protect Jesus in all this, for all Peter’s: “Even though all become deserters, I will not” Indeed we know that they’ll all flee the scene when he’s arrested, even Peter.

These words have been central to our Christian lives and worship ever since that night, they’re words that replenish us week by week, year every year, to help us live more fully as Christ’s followers, yet they seem to have elicited no comment at all when Jesus first says them.

John’s gospel has different timing: his ‘Last Supper’ happens the day before the Passover and is simply a shared meal and Jesus’ last ‘pep’ talk to his friends. John, then, has Jesus’ death timed when the Passover lambs would have been slaughtered for the Passover meal. So John sees Jesus as symbolisingthe Passover lamb slaughtered to save the people. Except Jesus has choice in his slaughter: he can opt out if he wants; Passover lambs can’t.

And John doesn’t have Jesus mention bread and wine being His body and blood. Instead he takes off his outer robe, wraps a towel about him and kneels to wash the dust of the day from his disciples’ hot, sweaty feet; taking his disciples by surprise yet again, for foot-washing was the task of the lowliest servant – not what they expect from their Lord.

Yet foot-washing fits so well with everything in Jesus’ ministry. Foot-washing shows the same humility as his coming to earth as a baby in a stable. It shows that Jesus never intended to lord it over the people. His kingship is always one of serving rather than being served. It matches the new commandment that he gives them this evening: “Just as I have loved you, so are you to love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples: if you have love for one another”.

Jesus undertakes this lowliest of tasks, not because he thinks he ought to, but out of love, because he’s running out of time to show them exactly how he wants them to live. He already knows that Judas will hand him over, that all his friends will desert him in the next few hours, that Peter will deny him three times this same night. Yet he loves them with a love so great that he tenderly washes and dries their feet.

…..And I wonder how our Christian faith would have developed if, instead of taking the words of Institution and using them to develop the Eucharist as our central liturgy, we had taken the foot-washing and used that to create a liturgy to mark us out as Christians? For, let us be absolutely clear, foot-washing does symbolisehow we are to be as Christians.

Foot-washing – whether you’re on the receiving end or the offering end – is a very intimate act; a sharing; an offering out; an act of humility and love for both washer and washed.

Peter doesn’t want Jesus to wash his feet because he feels so unworthy of his Lord. He knows he’s sinful; and his own sense of place in the scheme of things makes him blurt out that there’s no way Jesuscan do this for him. But Jesus smiles and tells him gently: unless you allow meto do this, you can have no share with me.

Being humble enough to allow others to care for us is as much a part of our Christian witness as being humble enough to serve others – all others, even those we might mistakenly believe to be of lower status, whatever that might mean. For in Jesus’ terms status does not exist: we’re all children before God. The humility of foot-washing belies any sense of theself-importance and self-righteousness that Jesus came to challenge: the self-importance and self-righteousness that ultimately put Jesus on the cross.

And if we believe that Jesus is the most perfect revelation of God, then the foot-washing speaks to us of our God so much louder than words can. It tells us that our God is willing out of pure love (despite all our failings, our indifference to injustice, our petty jealousies and gripes and misdemeanours) to kneel before us and wash us clean, to wipe our tears, and set us on our feet to try again. How could such a God demand in anger that his son should die in order that our sins might be forgiven? Our God forgives with abundant love and grace. Our God offers out his love again and again and waits for our response – whatever that might be.

In a few moments 12 people here will come and re-enact the foot-washing. And as they do I ask everyone here to imagine themselves back with Jesus at that supper; imagine Jesus washing your feet. Remember that he knows all that you are and all that you have been but his love for you is tender and true. Acknowledge his deep love for you. Remember that His love reveals the Father’s love for you too.

And whenever you find yourself struggling with feelings of self-doubt remember how he comes to wash your feet. When you’re struggling with feelings of self-righteousness or self-importance remember how, when Jesus washes your feet, he asks you in turn to be willing to wash the feet of others – all others, for we are all equal in God’s eyes, we are all God’s beloved children.