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Maundy Thursday John 13:1-17, 31b-35 Tonight we have three young people who will be receiving their very First Communions. I’ll never forget when my little brother took his First Communion. At our home church, we didn’t have nice bread or the chance to take grape juice. Instead, we used those little wafer things that taste something like a mix between cardboard and Styrofoam in the shape of a poker chip. You can hardly call those nasty things bread if you ask me. We also only had wine to drink. You should’ve seen his face when he took Communion for the first time. He made this hideous face and you could tell that he did not like it at all. When he came back to his seat, I leaned over to him and asked him what he thought of Communion. He said, “That is going to take some getting used to.” I like that statement, Holy Communion takes some getting used to. I know that he was just talking about the taste, but I think there’s really something to that. There’s a lot about Communion that does, indeed, take some getting used to. For starters, it takes some getting used to the community that you are sharing this meal with. It’s a very horizontal relationship. You’re no longer just sharing a meal with your family or close friends. In Holy Communion, you are sharing a very special meal with some complete strangers. You’re having an intimate dinner with people you simply may not like very well. When you take this meal, you’re likely sharing it with some pretty unsavory folks, and that can take some getting used to. When I was little, my folks used to take us to the Open Door Soup Kitchen about once a month and we’d serve lunch to the homeless people. One time, I was complaining about being hungry myself. Here I was dishing up all this food and piling it on the plates and my stomach was growling and so I complained to my dad. So he made me up a plate and set me down at a table between two homeless guys. A big black guy with dreadlocks and tattoos on one side of me. A smelly old guy, with a long gray beard and a stocking hat on the other side of me. Took me awhile to get used to that. You can bet I never complained about being hungry again. When you share a meal with God’s family, you don’t get to choose who is invited or who you’re sitting next to. They may be a lot different than you. They may make you uncomfortable. When you take this meal, you’re sharing it with more than just the folks at Hope. You’re sharing it with folks from around the world – guys in prison, single moms, rich people, poor people, people who are dying, good people, evil people – remember that BTK Killer from a few years ago in Wichita, KS – yeah, he was Lutheran, president of his congregation. Heck even Judas shared in this meal. The community gathered for Communion can take some getting used to. Why? Because this is Jesus’ party, not ours. We don’t get to make the guest list…and that’s probably a good thing. But another part of Communion that takes some getting used to is the whole union part. Union with God, that is. Union implies a coming together, a joining of two things or two people, or in this case, a joining the God of the universe and lowly ol’ me, lowly ol’ you. This is a very vertical relationship. Communion is about unity, about God coming down to be with us an in incredibly personal way. I know a lot of you like to go to Cardinals games down at Busch Stadium. It great to be there to experience the sights & sounds of the game, the crack of the bat, the smell of hotdogs cooking, the sound of the organ, and, of course, the drunk guy in front of you trying to get you to do the wave. It’s a great way to experience baseball, to be there and just take it all in. But now, can you imagine, if you go to a Cards game, and right in the middle of the ballgame, Albert Pujols comes out of the dugout and climbs into the stands. He walks up to your seat and asks you to come out onto the field, to sit in the dugout, to talk to the players, to maybe even play a little outfield. Can you imagine the difference, what that would be like? Sometimes we think of God like we’re watching a baseball game and he’s one of the players. He’s a long way away, doing God’s own thing, not paying any attention to me at all. In fact, sometimes it might feel like God wouldn’t even notice if you weren’t around at all. But Communion is a union with God. It’s God coming out of the heavenly dugout and asking you to experience him, experience life in a whole new way. Not just as a spectator or fan, but as an actual participant. God wants you to be on his team and play the game of life with him. This is what union with God is really all about, and it takes some getting used to. The moment you receive the bread and the wine, Jesus Christ comes to you and you enter the very life of God. He comes to you in a very personal way, sharing with you a life of love and mercy and forgiveness. This union with God, this kind of new life, takes some getting used to. And finally, when you take Holy Communion, it takes some getting used to who and what we are remembering. For when we receive this bread and wine, we are remembering one of the greatest scandals in all of human history – not just the murder of an innocent man, but we are remembering and witnessing the extent to which each one of us is loved. Here’s what I mean. Back when I was in junior high, I had my first real girlfriend. Her name was Heather. We talked on the phone at night, sat together at lunch, and of course, passed notes back in forth between classes. We were going out for about a month when, for whatever reason, I decided to break up with her. Of course, I broke up with her in a note, passed to her during lunch. And from across the lunch room, I could see her read the note and then start to cry. My heart sunk. I could tell that, by breaking up with her, I really hurt her. And it hit me, she really liked me. I wouldn’t call it love, we were only in 7th grade…but she really liked me. I wasn’t just some guy to her. I was special to her and she thought we had a pretty good relationship, and I had broken her heart. Of course, after some consoling by her friends, and some massive tears, she marched over to me, asked me if I really wanted to break up with her. I said, “Yes.” She promptly slapped me across the face and walked away. I guess I deserved it. I tell you that, to tell you this: in Holy Communion we remember how humanity tried to break up with God. We remember that God sent us the ultimate love letter in Jesus, he tried to sweep us off our feet, and show us how much he loves us – he healed people, he reached out to people, he was gentle and caring and he loved the children. He was perfect and he was perfectly in love with humanity, with us, with you. And then came that Passover Meal, the one we are remembering tonight, that very first Maundy Thursday. Maybe it was Judas who sent the note across the room, but no one else really objected. “Uh, God, we appreciate what you’ve done and all, but it’s just not working out for us. You’re not really the kind of God we were expecting or hoping for. Sorry. I’m sure you’ll find someone else better down the road. Seeya in Algebra class.” If only we would’ve been that nice about it. Instead, we had to get mean and nasty in this break up. We had to show Jesus that we really didn’t like him, that we couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as him, in fact, that we couldn’t even stand to have him alive. In this break up that we attempted, we killed him. We did. Me and you. We may not have been there with the nails & spear, but we repeat their actions every time we sin, every time we turn our backs on God, every time we choose someone or something over Jesus, we kill him. We break his heart, and we hammer those nails into his hands. This is what takes some getting used to in Holy Communion, because when we receive this meal, God takes us – as mean, as spiteful, as lazy, as hurtful, as self-centered, as apathetic as we are, he takes us and he says, “Do you know what? I still love you. I still want you back. I still want to be in relationship with you. As bad as you’ve treated me, treated other folks, as bad as that is, I’m willing to forgive it because of Jesus.” In Holy Communion, God takes us back, no questions asked. And this act of forgiveness should take some getting used to. Benjamin, Lucas and Bailey. Tonight you will be receiving your First Communion. You’ll be able to use grape juice if you’d like. The bread we’re using also tastes okay. So, the actual taste of Holy Communion may not take that much getting used to. But, the rest of it, the community you’re sharing it with, the union with God that you are being blessed with, and the forgiveness that you are now receiving – I hope you never quite get used to it. I hope it always makes you a little uncomfortable, a little bit nervous, and a little bit in awe that you have a God in Jesus Christ who loves you so much that he went to the cross to die for you. In fact, would the three of you please come forward. On that night of the Last Supper, Jesus did something that was entirely unexpected, and what I’m about to do to you is also entirely unexpected. Go ahead and take off your shoes and socks. Pastor John and I are going to wash your feet. It may feel weird, it may make you uncomfortable, but, like I said, Holy Communion takes some getting used to. After we finish with their feet, anyone else in the congregation is welcome to come forward to have your feet washed as well. Of if you have a partner and would like wash each other’s feet, you can come forward at this time and use one of the stations on either side. We will continue to wash feet until everyone who would like to, has had a chance to participate. If you’ve never done this before, I encourage you to experience it. But I’ll warn, it may take some getting used to. Amen. |
