April 9, 2009

Maundy Thursday

I Corinthians 11:23-26

John 15:1-5, 12-17

Once a year we gather on this day to remember the betrayal and arrest and trial of Jesus. And we remember the meal that Jesus shared with his followers, a meal that we still share, making us one with Christ and uniting us with each other.

So much has happened since we last met in this way.

We have seen the brokenness of the world: national and global economic turmoil; a flood of historic proportions bringing devastation to our neighborhoods and the University; the ongoing wars in Iraq and Afghanistan; the recently released documents confirming our nation’s involvement in torture.

We have seen signs of healing in the world as well: the work of so many people in flood recovery efforts; the historic election of Barak Obama; the recent Iowa Supreme Court decision allowing marriage equality; the bringing of our torture involvement into the light.

On the night before his death, Jesus gathered with his followers to observe the Passover festival. It was then that he reinterpreted the elements of that meal for them and for us. “This is my body broken for you . . . This is my blood of the covenant poured out for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins.” This is a meal of brokenness. And it is a meal of healing as well.

Salvador Dali painted the Last Supper in a way that gets at something of who the Christ is for a broken world.

A broken loaf of bread sits before Jesus on a long table—a glass of wine at his side. With one hand Jesus points toward himself—calling our attention to this man who eagerly desired to eat with his disciples, directing our sight to the link between the broken bread and his soon to be broken body. With the other hand he points toward the sky—toward the heavens—calling us to look beyond that body and blood to the covenant that God is making in them.

Look closely at this painting and you see that this Jesus is translucent. The light shines right through him and on through the wine in the glass. Looking through Jesus, one can see the world outside: a boat on the lake left by the fishing disciples, the hills in the distance.

From the simplicity of that meal our eyes plunge outward—seeing that the shoreline, the water, the land, indeed the world and all of the universe have changed by seeing all things through the Christ whose arms welcome all to this table.

In this meal, our attention is drawn past the table, past the broken bread to a broken and hurting world waiting for the change, the redemption promised in Christ.

We begin to see what the eye cannot see. Or as Paul put it: We look not to the things that are seen, but to the things that are unseen.

And looking to the things that are unseen—to God’s constant love for all creation, to God’s judgment and mercy, we find the strength to go into the world once more—as disciples ourselves, facing the evil, the illness, the death we encounter—knowing that we eat with One who has faced all of this before and who still offers us life. Knowing also that we eat with one another—each of us facing the struggles of life head on each day.

It has been said that there is no answer to the problem of evil and suffering in the world. There may be no answer, but there is a response. In the events we remember tonight and tomorrow our faith tells us that in Jesus Christ, God responded to the suffering of the world by suffering with us, knowing what it means to hurt with deep and human pain. In Jesus Christ, God goes down to the lowest depths of our human condition and is burdened with what burdens us. In Jesus Christ, God responded to the pain of creation by starting a new creation. And we are invited to be a part of it: finding those places where we can act to heal and bind up wounds.

We are challenged again by that command of love that Jesus gave—the mandate form which we get our word “Maundy.” We are to love as we are loved by God in Jesus Christ.

This is the response that we are asked to bring to a broken world: the good news that at the heart of all things is a compassion—a suffering with us—that is greater than all our suffering in solitude; that the universe is sheltered by a power whose direction is toward life, and that, ultimately life is stronger than death.

At the table tonight, let us taste and see that good news once more.

Let us go from here to live that good news, bringing healing to a broken world.

Resurrection answers crucifixion.

Life answers death.