Thursday and the 13

John 13:1-17, 31b-35

Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him. And during supper Jesus knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord are you going to wash my feet?” Jesus answered, “You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.” Jesus answered “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!” Jesus said to him, “One who has bathed does not need to wash, except for the feet, but is entirely clean. And you are clean, though not all of you.” For he knew who was to betray him; for this reason he said, “Not all of you are clean.”
After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, “Do you know what I have done to you?” You call me Teacher and Lord – and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them. . . . .
“Now the Son of Man has been glorified and God has been glorified in him. If God has been in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once. Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, “’Where I am going, you cannot come.’ I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

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What does a man do when he knows his life will soon end?

Hollywood movie has suggested  one possible answer --. We could prepare a “bucket list.” The a recent movie, Bucket List starring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman, is based on the notion -- already popular and  now more so -- that before we die, we should make a list of things we really want to do before we “kick the bucket”. The main characters are played by Nicholson and Freeman, one a rich profligate, go-for-the-throat corporate raider and the other a responsible, hard working, well read mechanic who had foregone many of his dreams to educate his children and provide a decent home. This is a familiar theme and the “bucket list” Nicholson and Freeman make includes going round the world, sky diving and other daredevil experiences. In the process, the two unlikely friends become bonded, and “healed” before they die. The important things that emerged from their bucket lists were not how much they experienced their daring dreams, but the reconciliation they discovered – reconciliations with each other, with estranged family members and even with death.

Comparing the movie and Jesus’ last wishes before his impending death provides a jumping off place to stimulate our thinking, but it’s a jumping off place that’s a big leap from Hollywood to an Upper Room in Jerusalem 2000 years ago. Still, the question gives us pause – what would you do if you knew you had only a week, more or less, to live?
 Book a flight to Paris, Rome or some exotic location?        
Charge madly off in all directions at once?
Panic?
Get a second opinion, a third?
Visit a faith healer?

Knowing you and having had only a few minor brushes with my own mortality, I am fairly sure that many of you would seek out those you love. You’d want to be with them; tell them how much they mean to you; be reconciled if there has been alienation.

 You would put your affairs in order. I strongly suspect you’d not waste time on trivial matters, those things that are insignificant in the great scheme of things.

Most people face the prospect of their life’s end with heightened attention to their spiritual lives seeking and finding comfort, guidance and hope. I’m not speaking of the old W. C. Fields anecdote. As Fields lay dying, the man who spurned things Christian, asked for a Bible. Why? “Looking for loopholes” he responded.

This meditation is not some morbid exercise with a veiled agenda of scaring people into faith. If we resort to that it would suggest the church has grown pretty desperate. However, to avoid the subject as we do so capably in America with eager efforts to deny aging, to idolize youthful beauty and to euphonize the reality, is to join in the great conspiracy of denial. The Emperor has no clothes. The Emperor despite being elevated to godlike status is still going to die.

How does the Church, the Christian community, speak and model any sort of hope or good news? I’m afraid we are intimidated by the prospect of being with and speaking to someone who faces the imminent approach of death. Perhaps we become inarticulate because we don’t want to say or do the wrong thing. Perhaps we find it difficult to speak because we’ve never come to terms with our own inevitable death.

I heard Tony Campolo, a powerful and dynamic speaker, at a community prayer breakfast this morning. He’s from Philadelphia and is a member of an African American Church there, though he’s white. He recounted how vibrant their worship is and told us one special service they have to recognize their students in college. Here’s Joseph attending Harvard and the grandparents murmur audibly, their pride and approval. Here’s Miriam, a student at Penn State studying micro-biology and there is an outpouring of applause and “amens” from her family. Here’s Charles at Princeton – English literature and again a family ripples with pride and gives expression. Thirty of them. (The Afro American church Campolo attends doesn’t stop abruptly at noon.)
 Campolo recounts that after recognizing the students and their academic successes, their preacher stood and said something that could have gone over like the proverbial lead balloon. “It’s just wonderful, just wonderful, but you are gonna’ die. And when you do, when they put you in the ground, they’re gonna’ throw dirt on your face and go back to the church and eat potato salad. Yes. The important thing is this: when that time comes, as it surely will, will you have collected titles or testimonies?” And using that alliteration refrain -- as only African American pastors can do --  he went through the Bible in five minutes detailing those who collected titles: Pharaoh, Emperor, Queen Jezebel, King Herod and those who collected testimonies in their courageous service, rendering their best for God’s highest: Moses, Elijah and the name about all names: Jesus.

So what did Jesus do when his time to depart approached? “Having loved his own in the world, he loved them to the end.” He knew the end  was coming and as another illustration of it, he got up from the table, took off his outer robe, wrapped a towel around him and washed the disciples’ feet -- a stunning act of humility, of sacrificial love. All the chest thumping, looking out for “Number One”, all the status-seeking evaporated in an instant. And the disciples were appropriately abashed.

 “If I did this for you, you ought also to do it for each other… a new commandment I give you . . “ On the eve of His betrayal -- this time when one could invoke the term “dead man walking” – “a new commandment:  that you love one another; just as I have loved you.”

Want to know how to face death?

Give your life away.

You belong to God. Give your life away and it can never be taken from you. You need not fear.

Now as I lay me down to sleep,

Thursday and the 13

A Maundy Thursday Message by

Dr. J. Lawrence Cuthill

March 20th, 2008

Winter Park Presbyterian