One of my favorite recordings
of music for Holy Week has on its cover a medieval illumination showing a
stunned St. Peter allowing Jesus to wash his feet. These are not soft, cuddly
portrayals: the Lord looks tired and intense, and Peter seems dazed and
confused. I treasure this picture because it reminds me that we have to be
strong enough to be served by Jesus first
if we are going to serve others in his Name.
When Jesus washed feet he was
performing a task more akin to changing a bedpan than hosting an afternoon at
the spa. It meant a complete role-reversal for disciples and their Master. It
was shocking and unconscionable. For Peter, it was initially unacceptable. “You
will never wash my feet!”
Jesus responds firmly:
"Unless I wash you, you have no share with me." There is no
negotiation, no set of options. It turns out the only way to become a true
servant is to be served by the Master of the House.
We hear a lot in the Church about
the importance of serving others, of doing works of mercy or justice and not
being complacent Christians. I think any honest reading of the Gospel makes
clear we are to be servants of our neighbor, to look for those in need and to
serve them well.
But why be a Christian in
that case? Why wouldn’t serving someone in the Name of Princess Diana, or Bono,
or the United Nations be just as good? Perhaps too many of us don’t really know
why.
I think Christian service
differs from other types in a number of ways, but one of the most important is
that Jesus has served us first. He
has come into the world, taken a body, lived with us and ministered to us in
the most uncomfortably intimate and honest ways we know. He has struggled,
suffered, and died for us. He doesn’t ask us to do anything he has not, in
effect, already done himself.
This makes being a Christian
about a great deal more than claiming an identity or coming to church simply to
feel warm and welcomed. To be a Christian is an act of courage: first, to be served
by the Lord of all; then, to be a servant to all others in the Lord’s name and
strength.
And this brings us to the
other way Jesus serves us tonight: in the Holy Eucharist. By promising to be
present with us whenever we “do this” in his Name, he is feeding us with his
own gift of life, his own strength and encouragement. He is serving the
servants.
The two commandments Jesus
gave on Maundy Thursday—to love one another as he has loved us, and to share in
the Eucharist in remembrance of him—are both about being served, again and
again, by the Lord himself. This is why the Eucharist is so much more than a
memorial of an event in the dim past or a hospitality occasion to make people
feel welcomed and comfortable: it is an encounter where Christ feeds the
members of his Body with his very life, his call, his care.
When I take communion as a
priest, I normally do the singularly odd thing of serving myself (this is just
one part of the strange and at times dangerous spirituality of being ordained).
But, when I do this, I say these words in my head: “From your hand, Lord.” I am
reminding myself that I, too, am being served by the Host of the Feast. There
is no real Christianity apart from receiving care from Christ—for any of us.
When we know this, it becomes
much easier to love and have patience with other people. If each day, each new
encounter with another person, each opportunity to forgive or reach out is
“from your hand, Lord” – then we treat that moment or person very differently
from something we are trying to do on our own steam.
And so I ask you tonight, as
you watch feet being washed and bread and wine being shared among members of
Christ’s Body: do you have courage to be served? Not only now, but in the
future; are you willing to join St. Peter and be served by Jesus?
If you aren’t, then you may
well find yourself always trying to prove you are worthy. If you are willing,
then you may be shocked and a bit embarrassed at times, but your soul will be
always be fed and your spirit warmed—and your feet will be clean, too.
No comments:
Post a Comment