Maundy Thursday …

This is an excerpt from We Make the Road by Walking, Chapter 32 A: A Table, a Basin, Some Food, Some Friends …
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Let’s imagine ourselves near Jerusalem. It’s Thursday night, and we are walking the road with Jesus’ disciples on Thursday of this climactic week. What a week it has been! It all started last Sunday as Jesus led us in that unforgettable parade into Jerusalem. And then there was that scene at the Temple. That sure stirred things up! Every night we have slept outside the city and returned the next morning for more drama. One day there were confrontations with the religious scholars and Pharisees; the next day, more controversy with the Sadducees. Jesus has issued lots of dire warnings about the fate of the Temple, which upsets many people because it’s the center of their whole world. And earlier today, just as Jesus sent two of us to find that donkey for our parade last Sunday, he sent Peter and John to find a man carrying a water jar so they could prepare the Passover meal at his guest room tonight.
Every Passover all Jews remember the night before our ancestors were liberated from slavery in Egypt. We celebrate a night of great anticipation. We associate each element of the meal—bitter herbs, unleavened bread, a lamb, fruit, and more—with different meanings from the liberation story. But tonight, at this special Passover, the focus isn’t on the distant past. It’s on the present and what will soon happen. Jesus draws our attention not to the lamb, but to a simple loaf of bread and a cup of wine. Near the end of the meal, Jesus lifts the bread and gives thanks for it. He says, “This is my body, given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” Then he lifts a cup of wine and says, “This cup is the new covenant by my blood, which is poured out for you for the forgiveness of sins.” He adds, “Whenever you take this bread and drink from this cup, do so in memory of me.”
Our first reaction is shock. To ask us to remember him suggests he will soon die. We know he has mentioned this several times, but now it hits us: he really means it, and it’s coming soon. Our second reaction? To speak of his body and blood this way sounds repulsive—like cannibalism! Why would we want to eat human flesh or drink human blood! That’s unkosher in our religion, and downright uncivilized! What could Jesus possibly mean by these strange words?
But before we can ponder the meaning of Jesus’ strange words any more, he adds to our shock by speaking about one of us being his betrayer. That quickly gets us arguing about which one of us would do such a terrible thing. Soon, we’ve moved on from arguing about which of us is the worst disciple to arguing about which of us is the greatest. It’s pretty pathetic, when you think about it. It says a lot about us disciples, and a lot about human nature, too. Jesus is trying to tell us he’s about to suffer and die, and all we can do is think about ourselves, our egos, our status in the pecking order!
Even this becomes a teaching opportunity for Jesus. Gentiles, meaning the Romans who occupy our land and seek to dominate us in every way, play these kinds of status games, he says. They cover up their status games with all kinds of language games. “That’s not the way it will be with you,” Jesus says. “Instead, the greatest among you must become like a person of lower status and the leader like a servant.”
Years from now, when the Fourth Gospel will tell the story, it will make this theme of service the focal point of this whole evening. It won’t even include the bread and the wine and Jesus’ solemn words about them. It will put center stage the dramatic moment when Jesus strips off his normal clothing and puts a towel around his waist. He pours water in a basin, stoops as a servant would, and washes the dust from our feet, one by one. When he finishes, he explains that he has set an example—of humble service, not domination—and he means us to imitate his example. Later, after the meal, he will expand “Serve one another as I have served you” to “Love one another as I have loved you.”
Both ways of telling the story of this night lead us to the same meaning. The original Passover recalled one kind of liberation—liberation from slavery in Egypt. This meal suggests another kind of liberation—liberation from playing the shame games of rivalry, pecking order, domination, and competition to reach the top of the pyramid of pride. If the first Passover gets people out from under the heel of the slave master, this holy meal leads people out from the desire to be slave masters in the first place. This meal celebrates a new model of aliveness—a model of service, of self-giving, of being blessed, broken, and given for the well-being of others.
It’s pretty predictable, I guess: to see how we disciples completely miss the point and turn that holy supper into an argument, a contest for who will be the greatest, who will have the most status at the table, who will be excluded. But in spite of our anxiety and rivalry…

Jesus, the patient teacher…
Jesus, the humble leader…
Jesus, the king of self-giving sets an example of service. And in that context, he asks us to remember him—not primarily for his great miracles, not primarily for his brilliant teaching, but primarily, essentially, for this: that he gives himself like food for us, and for the whole world.