Love until it Hurts [Maundy Thursday]

The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson

John 13

Love until it hurts

This night is defined by ritual action, by those things we do.  We do things during this liturgy that happen only once in the entire Church year.  Foot-washing is reserved for Maundy Thursday.  The stripping of the altar is reserved for Maundy Thursday.  The exit of the Reserved Sacrament to its temporary home on the Altar of Repose in the Chapel of the Consoling Christ is reserved for Maundy Thursday.

And then there is the Institution of the Lord's Supper, which we remember on this night as well.  And so placed amid all of these unique liturgical events is the one we practice most of all: the Holy Eucharist.  At least weekly, sometimes, like this week, with even greater frequency, we gather together and we remember the night in which Jesus instituted this Sacrament.  And as a community of Christians, we eat his body and drink his blood – week after week after week. 

And because of the frequency with which we receive the Sacrament, it can easily be overshadowed by the novel elements of tonight's liturgy.  And yet, of all those things we do tonight, it is the Sacrament that is the focus of tonight's Collect, and ultimately of the entire liturgy: Almighty Father, whose dear Son, on the night before he suffered, instituted the Sacrament of his Body and Blood: Mercifully grant that we may receive it thankfully in remembrance of Jesus Christ our Lord, who in these holy mysteries gives us a pledge of eternal life.  No mention of foot-washing; no mention of the Stripping of the Altar; no mention of the Altar of Repose. 

Which isn't to say that the other elements of the liturgy are not important; they certainly are.  Foot-washing, for example, is a beautifully intimate reminder of Jesus' love.  He transgresses all expectations of his social status, and of his divine nature, to take the posture of a servant.  And then invites us to do the same.

But foot-washing is merely a starting point; it foreshadows a much more profound display of Jesus' love.  Tonight we remember that Jesus knelt at the feet of his disciples and washed them – an act of humble service, an example of of the basic requirements of love.  But tonight we also remember that Jesus' love goes well beyond the washing of feet.  Beyond service to sacrifice.  True love hurts.  Jesus offers his life, his self, his everything.  He gives his body and his blood – his life poured out perpetually for our salvation.

This impossible love is our Good News.  But it is also hard news.  Because the one who loves so perfectly, at such great cost, then turns his gaze to us: Just as I have loved you, you should also love one another. 

Had his love stopped at the water basin, at the feet of his followers, that would have been a lot to ask of us.  Jesus washed even the feet of the one who betrayed him, of the one who took advantage of his love and trust.  He washed the feet of those who were subservient.  He humbled himself before his own servants.  To love others that much would be almost impossible for most of us most days.

But then Jesus offers his body and his blood – to become food for sinners, for the sake of those who betray him and abandon him, for those who will deny him and even kill him.  His love knows no limits; he opens his heart only to have us break it time and time again. 

And then he commands us to do the same: to love each other, as he loves us.

And that is hard, so hard that it hurts.  Community is hard.  Love is hard.  Judas was a member of Jesus' community; Jesus washed his feet knowing that Judas would get up from the chair and betray him – repay beautifully intimate love with savage betrayal.  There is no way that was easy, no way that felt good.  But rather seek revenge or withdraw his love, Jesus went to the cross and died for Judas and every one of us who exploit him, use him, betray him, and abandon him.  Because that is what love demands.  Because true love hurts.

We don't live together, stay together, worship together because it is easy or because everybody is just so nice.  Jesus gathers us around this table as brothers and sisters, a family of sinners fed with his body and blood.  And he expects us to love each other – even when we don't feel like it. 

We do a lot things tonight.  But chiefly we remember that this is the context from which the Holy Eucharist emerges: on the night before he suffered and died, Jesus gave us this Sacrament – the sacrament of his body and blood.  Because he loves us.  And that is why he washes feet.  That is why he goes to the cross.  That is why he still offers us his body and blood.  His love holds nothing back.  Jesus loves until it hurts.  And he expects the same of us.