April 8, 2004
Exodus 12:1-8,11-14 + 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 + John 13:1-15
We are poised now to begin the Passover. Our slavery to sin, our helplessness, our shame in a life behind us is at an end. Our time in an Egypt of sin is finished. If we have passed the forty days well at all, we emerge from our Lenten journey with nothing, but what we find here today: Bread, Wine, Water. All that we have clung to, horded, hidden, and prized is gone. What we thought would get us through, thought would serve us well, thought might protect us and comfort us is gone. The things we thought would gain us power, respect, and control have been proven useless. Things like wealth and weapons get us nowhere near peace. The military gets bigger, security gets tighter, and our old and poor get hungry so that we can protect ourselves. Great jobs, benefits, and huge homes never give us good sleep at night. We have to set our alarms, bring in the dog, and have the cell phone at hand,
and even then we keep wondering if everything secure.
This night we emerge from the desert as we shall emerge from the wilderness of this life. Only three things will be left. Three things do not and will not fail us as we pass our days of journey to the promised land of God’s presence: Water, Bread, and Wine. These are the symbols we hold dear, the things that will bring us through. Water for washing. Bread for Breaking.
Blood for loving.
Those men at the table would have eaten without washing. They have been arguing about who of them is most important. So convinced of their privilege, so proud of their rights, so convinced of their importance, they have missed something. In the home of the rich, a servant would have met them at the door and cleansed away the dirt of their travel. But this is not the home of the rich. In such simple surroundings, those who had arrived first would have helped those who came after
with this simple act of courtesy and kindness, but not these men. They would rather compete with one another for the best seat at the table. And so he gets up, and he does what they are unwilling to do, and therein lies the secret – he does what they are unwilling to do.
Bread for Breaking Bread for passing to others Bread to dip into the dish with the master. Bread made from thousands of wheat grains thrown everywhere by a sower of great generosity gathered in a harvest of kindness is not just bread to nourish our bodies, but service to nourish our souls. It is the breaking that makes the difference, the breaking of our hearts at the site of suffering, the breaking our busy day or our precious plans that make a difference for another who may interrupt us with their need. Wine for loving There is no joy, no refreshment, no true delight until the cup is passed and the wine is poured out. One grape makes no wine; but on the fruitful vine, all the grapes crushed together fill the wineskins of life to breaking, and poured out in love, passed in joy, and shared in fellowship, a bond of blood unites and binds together those who gather at the table. Tonight we gather in this holy place with the things Jesus has left us. They are his testament, his treasure, gifts he has left us in his memory. Neither gold nor silver, property or land: nothing we should hold on to. He left us actions to remember, works of service and humble love, by them we are marked for life. Blood fellowship and a certain quiet joy are the hallmarks of this night’s celebration. This night is different from all other nights. This night Christ will feed us and unlike our Fathers in the desert, we will live forever on this food. This is the celebration on earth as it is in heaven where Christ will comfort us and delight us because we dare to want to be free, to receive love and to share love.
This is all we need: Water to wash away the dust of our journey, a cup of blood and a broken body come to life again. Through these gifts we come to life.
With these gifts we make our way. In these gifts we find our joy. For these gifts now we give thanks.