Infused With New Meaning

As many of you know, over the past eighteen months, I lost both of my parents. Many of you have gone through similar losses.  As is often the case with important losses, new significance is afforded to objects that belonged to the deceased, the things that they said, the places that they went, or the rituals that they had.

For example, I keep the compass and dog tags from my dad’s army days next to my bed. I am not sure I even noticed them 10 years ago, but now they have special significance in his absence. Or I look often at a picture of my mom holding a sign with one of her mottos, “The Life You Live is the Lesson You Teach.” That phrase means so much more to me now that she’s gone.

I would imagine that the community of Jesus felt similarly when they thought back on the night that Jesus gathered with them for the last time. My guess is that they, like we, often do not know we’re in the “last time” with someone or something. It’s just what we do, until we’re not able to do it any longer and then we look back and remember it in a new way.

The disciples were gathering with Jesus for the Passover.  They had done it in years before and, perhaps, they suspected they’d do it again next year.  Sure, things were tense with Jesus and the authorities, but he’d gotten out of trouble before. They’d have their celebration and leave Jerusalem in a few days. All good.

Jesus, however, knew this was probably his last time with his friends – even if they did not realize it. So he switches up some parts of the ritual and offers his friends something with a new significance. He says to them, “When you gather to do this, remember me. Remember what I taught. Remember how I moved through the world. Remember how I loved you. I am here with you when you do this.”

Now I don’t know whether Jesus intended to “institute a sacrament” (as the church says) whe he said all these things. But it isn’t hard for me to believe that his followers felt his presence in furture gatheringings when they did what he asked them to do. I think often about the phrase many of my Jewish friends say when speaking about the dead, “May their memory be a blessing.” . Remembering Jesus in this way became a blessing to those gathered, and what he did on that first “Holy Thursday” was sacramental – taking the ordinary and infusing it with extraordinary meaning.

We do this all the time in our lives. We take ordinary objects, animals, birds, places, pictures, foods, or songs and use them to evoke something else in us due to their association with something special. For whatever reason, there seems to be something deep inside humanity that needs and longs to do this.  And so Jesus took everyday things like bread and wine and infused them with new meaning that we think about every time we gather in his name.

And then after the meal, he gets down on his hands and knees and washes their feet.

Mic drop.

My guess is that this shocked the disciples and was seared into their hearts and minds. Think of someone you love and respect and hold in high regard. Imagine that you just had dinner with them and then they get down on their knees and wash your dirty feet. That would leave an impression. It just brings me to tears every year watching this happen at church as our beloved ministers wash the feet of parishioners.

Jesus then tops it all off by instructing us to do the same.

What I love about Holy Thursday is that there does not have to be a lot of complicated theology for us to be powerfully moved by what is going on.

Jesus is in the midst of celebrating a ritual that literally remembers liberation from bondage and he invites us to let our meal together remind us of that.  When we eat together, we’re to remember that this is why we’re in the world – to be free and to help others become free.

And then after he grabs a towel, washes feet, and tells us to do the same. Be of service to the world.

These are not intellectual messages. They are actions and embodied practices that we all can take up in so many ways.

Gather.

Eat.

Celebrate.

Remember.

Work for freedom.

Grab a towel.

Stay close to the ground.

Be of service.

As we move into these final days of Lent and into the very special days of what is called the Triduum, let us be mindful that, in the end, our faith is not just in our heads or about what we believe. It’s about what we do.

Faith is about bodies and how those bodies move through this world. It is about how our bodies get free and free other bodies. It is about how our bodies come together and celebrate and how they remember. And it is about how these bodies serve other bodies in the world.

For today, just sit quietly in your body and offer it to God.