Maundy Thursday C
April 14, 2022
Good Shepherd, Wells, MN
Luke 22.7-23; Exodus 12.1-14
“Don’t forget!” How many times have you said this to someone? Perhaps you have said it to a spouse, a child, a co-worker, a boss, or a friend. Maybe you’ve even said it to yourself: “Don’t forget!” Forgetting something can be a nuisance or it can have dire consequences and any place in between. The mere act of saying it means that it’s likely important. So, we figure out ways not to forget. We write notes or put objects where we trip over them, all in an effort to not forget. Some of us even type reminders into our devices that pop up at the right time, what I affectionately call my “electronic nag.” As I go deeper into the last quarter of my life, the propensity to forget grows ever larger. Although I jokingly say that I’m afraid to visit people in a memory care unit lest they don’t let me out, there’s more truth in that statement than I care to admit.
In the gospel from Luke, Jesus is at supper with his disciples. Is the one that we will call both his Last and the Lord’s. It starts as a Passover meal, the annual celebration of the deliverance of the Israelites from their bondage in Egypt. We heard the story in our first reading. The Passover meal was instituted so that the Jews would never forget God’s liberating power. Here, Jesus knows his destiny and so he cherishes this one last time to be together. But he also takes the opportunity to put his own twist on this meal to help them remember him and not to forget. Much is going to happen within the next three days, so he gives them final instructions before he leaves them.
His first instruction, both a command and an invitation, is “Do this.” This command lays the foundation for all that follows. For we who are Lutheran Christians, this is the first of three requirements for a sacrament, to be commanded by Christ, like I told the Fifth Grade students last night during their Communion class. I also told them that, in addition to being commanded by Christ, a sacrament must be a gift of God’s grace which then must be attached to a physical element. Here the gift of God’s grace is forgiveness of sins, which as Martin Lutheran reminds, is followed by life and salvation. And of course, the physical elements of bread and wine are Jesus’ body and blood. Still, the main point is that Jesus knows we not only forget but we are concrete people who need concrete, tangible reminders of his presence.
But the remembrance Jesus institutes goes far beyond a simple reminder of a distant historical figure. That kind of remembering sounds something like this: “Yeah, he was a great teacher who had a lot of influence, too bad what happened to him.” In linking this meal to the Passover and declaring the bread to be his body and wine to be his blood, Jesus supercharges this meal. Jesus will now be present in a new way than ever before. Because Jesus commands it, this presence is as real as it gets. In fact, nothing could be more real than Jesus in, with, and under the elements of bread and wine. Furthermore, this presence is a saving presence that assures us we belong to God through eternity.
Finally, in the meal that we do in remembrance, Jesus institutes a new way to do community. All are welcome to the table of grace and mercy, no exceptions. After all, Jesus fed his betrayer, Judas, along with the rest of the disciples. And in a wonderful mystery, as we gather around this table, we are joined not only by Christians around the world, but all who are gathered in God’s embrace, past, present, and future. As you come forward to commune tonight, may you be reminded in a real and tangible way that God loves you very much and may it sustain you in the days ahead. Amen.
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