Thursday, April 14, 2022

Sermon: Remember (Maundy Thursday)

 Full service HERE.

Maundy Thursday
April 14, 2022
1 Corinthians 11
Exodus 12:1-14

I love to read to my kids, and they love being read to. And they know, and I know, that my favorite thing to read to them is Bible stories. We certainly have our favorites: they like all the Jesus stories, and Queen Esther is always a big hit. But another that we frequently return to is the story of the Passover. Not just the Passover, but the whole story surrounding it – the 10 plagues, and Moses repeatedly asking Pharaoh to “let my people go!” (Sometimes we shout Pharaoh’s predictable and repeated, “No!” or pretend we are the ones being attacked by flies or gnats, which is always a good bedtime activity.) And we love the dramatic escape through the Red Sea. 

But at the center of this story, of course, is the story of the Passover: the final plague, and the one that finally convinced Pharaoh (before he, again, changed his mind), in which the first born of every Egyptian family was struck down by the angel of death. But the Israelite families were told to smear lamb’s blood over their doors, so that the angel of death would know they were there and “pass over” those houses, thus saving them from death. This is the part of the story that we heard read a moment ago. God also includes instructions about what to wear, telling them, “Be ready for a quick exit! This is the moment for escape from slavery in Egypt!” It’s definitely a dramatic story! 

The reason we hear it tonight, on this night on which we remember Jesus’ sharing his last supper with his disciples, is that according to Matthew, Mark and Luke, the last supper was a Passover meal. Did you notice that last line of our reading? God says that “this day shall be a day of remembrance for you,” a festival observed as a “perpetual ordinance.” And so, for thousands of years, the Jewish people have done just that, sharing in a meal like the one described here, one that is full of symbolism and storytelling. It is a meal about remembering, and re-membering – that is, it is not just about recalling something, but also, in that recollection, bringing together once again the community from across the ages, the generations of God’s people who have been and continue to be saved and restored by God. It re-members them, makes them members again, as they tell again the story about how God saved them – from the angel of death, and from the yolk of slavery. God is a God who saves us. 

It is at this Passover event, this remembering of God’s salvific actions, that Jesus shares his last meal with his disciples, but this time with a twist. This time it is not a lamb whose life is given for their salvation, but Jesus’ own life. It is his body that becomes their feast. It is not a lamb’s blood that saves them from death, but Jesus’ own blood. And as he breaks the bread and shares the wine, calling them his own body and blood, he says those familiar words, “Do this in remembrance of me.”

I guess I have usually interpreted that instruction, “in remembrance of me,” as more of a recalling. Like, “Remember me and my love for you, whenever you take communion.” But this year I’m seeing it as something different. Certainly, putting it alongside the Passover story brings out the sense that this meal we share as Christians is a meal about freedom from our captivity to sin and about the life we have because of Christ, our “paschal lamb.” But this year I’m thinking especially about that word, “remember,” as a word about restoring a community. For the past two Maundy Thursdays, we have not shared in holy communion, and that has felt very strange. We haven’t shared in a lot of our usual community activities – in person worship, singing together, the various special meals that are so much a part of our life together as a congregation. And though we have done our best to maintain what we could, and we are trying now, safely, to resume some things… I know that the sense of community has suffered as a result of our time apart. All of our various communities have! For our literal survival as individuals, we have had to figure out how to go it alone. We home-schooled and worked from home, and watched church from the safety of our living rooms, we started ordering groceries with Insta-cart, and suspended our usual annual gatherings. It was the right thing to do for the times. 

But tonight, and the stories we hear tonight, are a poignant reminder of what we have lost, and of the importance of re-membering. We are not captive like the Israelites in Egypt, nor subject to an oppressive Roman regime like the disciples, but we are captive to our own things, our own sin and fear. We are not running for our lives later tonight like the Israelites, nor betraying Jesus for some silver like Judas, but we are feeling the effects of our broken communities, and the need for restoration between people and between peoples. We all, across time, have felt the need for re-membering. We all have need for restored community.

And that is the gift we receive tonight. The Passover story re-members a history of God’s saving actions, encouraging people to care for each other in that highly intense time. Corinthians reminds us that when we partake of this holy sacrament, we re-member not only Christ, but also our place together in Christ’s family – despite whatever divisions may exist in that family. And the Gospel reading, the beautiful story of Jesus washing his disciples’ feet, helps us remember that undergirding all of the restoration of community that we need and crave is God’s abiding love for us, and his command to us to love one another in this same way.  

As we come forward tonight, we will, as we always do, come with hands open and outstretched. It is a gesture that says, “Lord, I’m ready to receive – receive grace, forgiveness, and love.” And as we receive Christ’s own body and blood, we do this in re-membrance of him. We are re-membered, restored, to Christ’s community – not in the same way we were before, necessarily, but in a new way. For we know that God is always doing a new thing, not the same ol’ thing. And so even as we do recall the ways that God has loved us and saved us in the past, we are also put back together in a way that is ready to receive whatever new thing God has in mind for us. We do this in remembrance of that promise, in remembrance of Christ. 

As we continue through these Three Days, we will watch as Christ’s own body is broken – not just the bread tonight, but his physical body tomorrow. And we will remember our own brokenness, our own need for restoration. And then, as we watch God’s new thing unfold, we will marvel as God re-members us, putting us back together in a way that brings life to us and our communities. May we remember, and never forget, and continually tell the story, of our place in God’s salvation plan for us, and for the world. 

In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.


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