On Thursday evening Christians across the world will gather together to celebrate that evening long ago when our Lord gathered with his Apostles in an upper room to take supper with his followers and friends for the last time. At Maundy Thursday services throughout the Christian world believers will celebrate our Lord’s gift of Holy Communion instituted on that fateful night, then they will strip the altar bare, darken the church and prepare themselves for the somber observance of Good Friday. Their minds will be fixed upon the sacrifice made on our behalf by God on Earth, the living Son of the one eternal God.
In keeping with the traditions of my church, a small congregation of Disciples of Christ, we will leave our darkened sanctuary in silence. We will each be reflecting upon that day when the Light of the World went dark. That day when all seemed lost. That saddest of days when Evil seemed to have had its way in the world, when Evil seemed to have triumphed over Good.
We will be unlike those Apostles and Disciples who saw our Lord led to the place of His crucifixion, those who watched as He hung dying upon His cross. We will be unlike them because we will know all the while how the story ends.
Because we know how the story ends, how Jesus triumphantly arose from His grave after three days in the tomb, it will be impossible for us to feel the devastating sadness and hurt which must have filled the hearts of the Apostles and all to whom Christ was dear. Because we have never ourselves witnessed a crucifixion, it will be impossible for us to imagine in any meaningful way the horror Christ willingly endured for our salvation. We will have no standard of reference against which to compare His suffering.
Within an hour we will, most of us, be back at our homes. We may eat a late dinner, watch a television program or do both at the same time. We may fire up an iTunes playlist while we surf the net, or check out Facebook to see what all of our friends are doing. The anniversary of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ will be at hand, but for us it will be something less than a present reality. That’s the way the human mind works, and that’s the problem.
While we may take a timeout from thinking of all that Evil does in the world, Evil will not pause. While we may forget that people, desperate people in our town and in our neighborhood, are hungry and hurting, their hunger and pain will go on.
Even as our thoughts turn away from the ponderous sacrifice our Lord made for us, the suffering of millions in need of our compassion and care will relentlessly and mercilessly continue. Evil will not pause.
I was thinking last night of what I might say to Christ, how I might defend myself, if he should call me to account for my selfish concern for myself and all that I claim as mine. What defense could I offer?
I know full well that I have earned nothing that I have. I know full well that nothing is rightfully mine. What apology could I offer for withholding any part of what is His from others in need?
Would it satisfy Christ should I contend that “they did not earn it?” What if I were to argue that “they are slackers who are loathe to work. I have worked hard for all that I have. Why should I have to give it to them?” Would Christ be satisfied?
What answer would I give were Christ to question my treatment of strangers, children of God, who live and work among us but are separated from us by their legal status?
“They are criminals. They are illegal,” I might say. “They are a burden on taxpayers like me. They drain our resources, and they have no right to be in my country.”
My country? I am a stranger wandering lost in God’s kingdom but for his Love and Grace. By what right may I even approach my God in supplication but that in His mercy He welcomes me home?
Can my heart be so impoverished, so poor in Spirit and Love, that I can no longer reckon justice by Christ’s example, rather than by the letter of the civil law?
Will I let my brothers and sisters die? Will I let them languish in pain and suffering, racked with disease and in torment because their care may be costly? Because my taxes may increase if the government should come to their aid?
Surely, Christ will understand that if I support universal health care I may be working against my personal interest. My benefits might decrease or my premiums might cost me more. I’m sorry for those less fortunate than me, but…
I’m a hardworking American, and I’ve earned my access to health care by the sweat of my brow. It is mine. Right? I am entitled to it, and I should not be asked to give up any part of what I’ve earned for those who have made bad choices in their lives.
I know that personal responsibility and self reliance are the American way. Then I am reminded that Jesus is not an American.
On that long ago night Jesus broke bread and poured wine, sharing a meal with his Apostles. We share in that meal and enjoy true communion with our Lord as we remember Him on Maundy Thursday, and as we celebrate his Last Supper every Sunday morning.
What Jesus has done for us! Christ’s suffering, His death at the instance of an angry mob, and His triumphant resurrection. The Good News! We must never forget what Jesus has done for us.
Still, there is something else we must not forget. Something vital and necessary for the world. What a world we would live in, what a celebration might erupt throughout all of Heaven, if only we might from time to time remember what we must do for Him.
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Excellent writing here, Prentice! I like the way you take the Last Supper and our congregation’s unique observation of it (combined with remembrance of the passion and crucifixion that followed), and hold it up against our everyday living and the on-going suffering and evil in this world. Great observations!
I almost don’t want to add anything in response. But I do want to thank you among other things for pointing out that Jesus was (and is) not an American. He was a Palestinian Jew in a borderland province of mighty Rome’s empire. Nor did he speak English, he spoke Aramaic – a tongue I’d love to learn.
Our American tendancy to think that Jesus was American, Republican or Democrat, spoke our language, etc., is only encouraged by the portraiture of the Nazarene in Western art. He didn’t look anything like what the paintings in Italy, Britain, USA etc, show! He had short curly hair, may or may not have sported a beard, had a round head with a stubby nose, and swarthy skin. He was a typical-looking Jew of First-Century Palestine. We know he was typical because on more than one occasion he escaped the crowd simply by blending in with them, and Judas had to give the arresting soldiers an indication whom in that crowd in the garden was the correct one to arrest. (Had Jesus looked like he does in Western art, with a long face and long straight nose a la Rudy Giuliani and shoulder-length straight or wavy hair, he’d have stood out notably in that day and time.)
We Americans get so much wrong about Christ and the Good News. Even the dates. He was born four or more years before the year that some medieval monk calculated, that became the dividing point betwee B.C. and A.D. And altho’ he did indeed rise on the first day of the week (Sunday), Jesus ate that Last Supper on a Wednesday night and was tried, crucified and buried on Thursday!
But worse than our mistakes of dating and what the Savior looked like, is our ignoring of the message he proclaimed. “Love God our Daddy (“Abba” in Aramaic) with all your being; love your neighbor as yourself — and your neighbor is everybody in need whom you can help — do for others what you’d have them do for you (The Golden Rule); love one another as I have loved you.” And Christ showed what he meant by “love as I have” by dying for us!
Will we make this a reality in our daily living? Or will we just go to church, contemplate it then and maybe for awhile afterward, and then get on with TV watching, Internet surfing, and our denial of what really matters?
I pray that we all who claim to love Jesus make the right choice!