Erl Purnell Sermon

aMaundy Thursday ~ March 20, 2008 ~ A sermon preached by The Rev’d Erl G. Purnell at Old St. Andrew’s Church, Bloomfield, CT

Exodus 12.1-14; Psalm 116.1, 10-17; 1^st Corinthians 11.23-26; John 13.1-17, 31b-35

This evening—Maundy Thursday evening—the lessons point both to the words of institution for the Eucharist and John’s story about Jesus’ washing the feet of his disciples on the night he was betrayed. We could have a pretty good discussion about the contradictions between various Gospel accounts, especially the differences between the synoptic Gospels’ rendition of Jesus’ final night and that offered in the Fourth Gospel. In any case, all four of the canonical Gospels agree that Jesus’ crucifixion occurred at the time of the Passover. Although, regarding the latter, dating Jesus’ death may have been a way to associate Jesus with the Paschal lamb and so the greater story of Passover and the Hebrew peoples’ escape from slavery rather than the actual time of year of his demise.

Be that as it may, what’s on my mind are thoughts about the Eucharist and our call to be servants.

“On the night when he was betrayed,” says Paul, “[Jesus] took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ We find these same words in Mark, Matthew, and Luke. “In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.’”

Powerful words. I’ve said them hundreds, probably thousands of times. Yet, they continue to move me deeply as we recapitulate Jesus’ invitation to join in open commensality.

Of course the images are clear. The bread represents Jesus’ body; the wine, his blood. I am not, however, one who believes in transubstantiation—that is, that the bread and wine become the actual body and blood of Jesus. For me, the symbolism is far more evocative than any literal conception could be. You see, the image incorporated in the Eucharist summons the reflex to be reflective.

A person’s body and blood—their life-Being—matters more than anything. The very Being of Jesus matters, and so the Being of you and me matters, too. Indeed, the Being of all of people and creatures—Gaia, this fragile earth itself—matters because the creative spirit—God, if you will—is in and of ALL things. The loss of Jesus at the hands of a system that cruelly dominates society is patently unjust. Perhaps ironically, he was killed because he mattered too much. After all, he was a threat to the domination system of the Romans and the Temple elite. Justice, just like Jesus, dies at the hand of oppression and domination.

The bread and wine of the Eucharist may bring us to remember Jesus, even associate with him, but don’t allow the deeper message to slip away. The deeper message of the bread and wine implies that there is bread to eat and wine to drink. Having enough is a justice issue—enough to eat, enough to keep you warm, enough to make you healthy, enough to guarantee your safety.

And third, open commensality means that there is always room at the table for all peoples—ALL PEOPLES. Inclusiveness was a radical notion in Jesus’ day and it still is. The Eucharist of Jesus requires us to provide food enough for any and all who are hungry.

At the outset, I said my thoughts were on the Eucharist and our call to be servants. The Eucharist requires us to practice open commensality generously. So, too, the foot-washing story in John’s Gospel is the quintessential example of Jesus as servant. Don’t get too stuck on the specifics of the event. I don’t think we’re called to be professional foot-washers. As with so much of Scripture, this vignette is meant to point us towards something greater.

Easy enough for Jesus to serve, you say. But what about us, I ask? How do we serve? Yes, by giving money to build a house in Haiti. Yes, by bringing somebody to church on Sunday or doing Meals on Wheels. Yes, by paying it forward at the grocery store or in traffic.

I wonder what else? What else can you and I do to serve God and others in profound and meaningful ways? How might we make a difference in the life of other people, in our society, and on behalf of the health of the planet?

The justice of open commensality and imperative of servanthood! Won’t you consider these … during tonight’s vigil … but also in the quite of your prayers, asking How God, how can I be all it is you have created me to BE?

Amen.