OK, I know it isn’t Monday, but it will be soon. And I know it isn’t Maundy Thursday, but it will be eventually. A few months anyway. But actually it was the old The Mamas and The Papas song that came to mind as I was musing about the text for this week. (Mamas and Papas? My Lord, how old are you? Not nearly as old as my kids think I am. Just saying. But I do remember The Mamas and The Papas. So there!)
Monday Monday, so good to me, / Monday Monday, it was all I hoped it would be / Oh Monday morning, Monday morning couldn't guarantee / That Monday evening you would still be here with me.
Monday Monday, can't trust that day, / Monday Monday, sometimes it just turns out that way / Oh Monday morning, you gave me no warning of what was to be / Oh Monday Monday, how could you leave and not take me.
I never realized how “Tale of Two Cities” that song is. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” Monday, Monday, so good to me / Monday, Monday, can’t trust that day.” Interesting, don’t you think? Which is it? A good to me day, or an untrustworthy day? Hmmm.
None of that is the reason why I went with the title you see above. I was merely thinking about the only time we usually see the passage I have chosen for this Sunday in our “Shaped for Service” series is on Maundy Thursday. You know, that Thursday during Holy Week, the few days before Easter, when we re-enact the Last Supper in the Upper Room. The commemoration that we’ve begun to change to Holy Thursday, because no one can remember what Maundy means and it makes us sound even more out of touch with reality. At least Holy Thursday sounds somewhat normal.
But, it is a bit odd that we always go back to the thirteenth chapter of John for Maundy Thursday. Because John is the only Gospel that never really discusses or even depicts the last supper. There is no “this is my body” in John, no “Drink from this all of you.” The very thing we’ve used to institute this sacrament that we call Holy Communion. How odd is that? It is as if John has a completely different agenda than the other three Gospels. As though he missed something vital in the story. Instead he spends time on this odd little event, a neglect of hospitality, a detail that was overlooked in the party planning. Surely that shouldn’t be the central focus of this moment. Should it? Take a look.
John 13:1-17 Now before the feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart out of this world to the Father, having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. 2 And during supper, when the devil had already put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray him, 3 Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, 4 rose from supper, laid aside his garments, and girded himself with a towel. 5 Then he poured water into a basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel with which he was girded. 6 He came to Simon Peter; and Peter said to him, "Lord, do you wash my feet?" 7 Jesus answered him, "What I am doing you do not know now, but afterward you will understand." 8 Peter said to him, "You shall never wash my feet." Jesus answered him, "If I do not wash you, you have no part in me." 9 Simon Peter said to him, "Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!" 10 Jesus said to him, "He who has bathed does not need to wash, except for his feet, but he is clean all over; and you are clean, but not every one of you." 11 For he knew who was to betray him; that was why he said, "You are not all clean." 12 When he had washed their feet, and taken his garments, and resumed his place, he said to them, "Do you know what I have done to you? 13 You call me Teacher and Lord; and you are right, for so I am. 14 If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. 15 For I have given you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. 16 Truly, truly, I say to you, a servant is not greater than his master; nor is he who is sent greater than he who sent him. 17 If you know these things, blessed are you if you do them.
I know it is useless to try and ascribe inner thoughts to the actors in the gospel drama, but I can’t help but wander what was going through Jesus’ mind when he got up and grabbed the towel and the basin. Was it a sigh at how such an important cultural greeting was missed by those who were charged to prepare the meal? Was it light bulb moment where he thought, maybe if I show them what I mean, they’ll finally get it? Was it yet another opportunity to present his incarnated message, to be the words that he spoke? Or was it just a matter of course - he saw a need and got up to fill it, not thinking for a moment on how they would respond to such an act?
In the minds of the disciples, there was something demeaning about kneeling to serve in such a humbling way. That’s why they all managed to overlook the opportunity. But for Jesus it wasn’t demeaning, it was an opportunity. An opportunity to serve. More than that, it was an opportunity to be who he came to be, to fulfill his purpose. After all he said “The Son of Man came to serve, not to be served.”
All the teaching about the action came after, when they were confused. “Do you know what I have done for you?” Nope, he could read it in their eyes, they didn’t get it. They were still looking for the best seats, they were still looking for their rewards in heaven, or on earth. They didn’t know what he had done, which means they didn’t know him. At all. We sometimes envy the disciples, because they got to spend time with him, they got to hear his voice and see his eyes, they watched his hands, they were right there. And they didn’t get it. They didn’t have any advantage.
Later on Jesus says “I’m giving you a new commandment.” That’s where the word Maundy comes from. The Latin maundatum or command. The new commandment, he says later is “Love one another as I have loved you.” Except it wasn’t new, not really. He had already acted it out in front of them. “As I have loved you.” By serving, by getting on his knees, by bending to a task that even fishermen thought was beneath them. Love like I loved, says Jesus.
It wasn’t supposed to be a once a year command. The church has turned Maundy Thursday into quite a ritual over the years. The Pope would find some beggars - or his people would find some beggars - and then very publicly would wash their feet. The monarch of England would do the same, until it got too uncomfortable for them, now they hand out some money. Maundy Money, it’s called. Once a year.
But it was never supposed to be a ritual. It was supposed to be a way of life. Oh, foot-washing isn’t a part of our culture, that isn’t necessarily what is supposed to be carried on. It is the willingness to serve that is the command. The Maundy. On Thursday, or Monday. Or any day. And even The Mamas and The Papas knew it wasn’t always going to be a piece of cake. Sometimes it’s a good day, all you hoped it to be. Other times it seems cruel, not what you expected. That’s a part of the risk of service. Sometimes it doesn’t turn out like you hoped, sometimes it isn’t received like you intended. And our inclination is to stop rather than risk doing it wrong. At least until we remember that Monday comes every week. Or maybe we remember that Maundy comes again and again, every time there is an opportunity to serve.
“Every other day of the week is fine ...” Fine for serving in the name of the One who served.
Shalom,
Derek
Monday Monday, so good to me, / Monday Monday, it was all I hoped it would be / Oh Monday morning, Monday morning couldn't guarantee / That Monday evening you would still be here with me.
Monday Monday, can't trust that day, / Monday Monday, sometimes it just turns out that way / Oh Monday morning, you gave me no warning of what was to be / Oh Monday Monday, how could you leave and not take me.
I never realized how “Tale of Two Cities” that song is. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” Monday, Monday, so good to me / Monday, Monday, can’t trust that day.” Interesting, don’t you think? Which is it? A good to me day, or an untrustworthy day? Hmmm.
None of that is the reason why I went with the title you see above. I was merely thinking about the only time we usually see the passage I have chosen for this Sunday in our “Shaped for Service” series is on Maundy Thursday. You know, that Thursday during Holy Week, the few days before Easter, when we re-enact the Last Supper in the Upper Room. The commemoration that we’ve begun to change to Holy Thursday, because no one can remember what Maundy means and it makes us sound even more out of touch with reality. At least Holy Thursday sounds somewhat normal.
But, it is a bit odd that we always go back to the thirteenth chapter of John for Maundy Thursday. Because John is the only Gospel that never really discusses or even depicts the last supper. There is no “this is my body” in John, no “Drink from this all of you.” The very thing we’ve used to institute this sacrament that we call Holy Communion. How odd is that? It is as if John has a completely different agenda than the other three Gospels. As though he missed something vital in the story. Instead he spends time on this odd little event, a neglect of hospitality, a detail that was overlooked in the party planning. Surely that shouldn’t be the central focus of this moment. Should it? Take a look.
John 13:1-17 Now before the feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart out of this world to the Father, having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. 2 And during supper, when the devil had already put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray him, 3 Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, 4 rose from supper, laid aside his garments, and girded himself with a towel. 5 Then he poured water into a basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel with which he was girded. 6 He came to Simon Peter; and Peter said to him, "Lord, do you wash my feet?" 7 Jesus answered him, "What I am doing you do not know now, but afterward you will understand." 8 Peter said to him, "You shall never wash my feet." Jesus answered him, "If I do not wash you, you have no part in me." 9 Simon Peter said to him, "Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!" 10 Jesus said to him, "He who has bathed does not need to wash, except for his feet, but he is clean all over; and you are clean, but not every one of you." 11 For he knew who was to betray him; that was why he said, "You are not all clean." 12 When he had washed their feet, and taken his garments, and resumed his place, he said to them, "Do you know what I have done to you? 13 You call me Teacher and Lord; and you are right, for so I am. 14 If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. 15 For I have given you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. 16 Truly, truly, I say to you, a servant is not greater than his master; nor is he who is sent greater than he who sent him. 17 If you know these things, blessed are you if you do them.
I know it is useless to try and ascribe inner thoughts to the actors in the gospel drama, but I can’t help but wander what was going through Jesus’ mind when he got up and grabbed the towel and the basin. Was it a sigh at how such an important cultural greeting was missed by those who were charged to prepare the meal? Was it light bulb moment where he thought, maybe if I show them what I mean, they’ll finally get it? Was it yet another opportunity to present his incarnated message, to be the words that he spoke? Or was it just a matter of course - he saw a need and got up to fill it, not thinking for a moment on how they would respond to such an act?
In the minds of the disciples, there was something demeaning about kneeling to serve in such a humbling way. That’s why they all managed to overlook the opportunity. But for Jesus it wasn’t demeaning, it was an opportunity. An opportunity to serve. More than that, it was an opportunity to be who he came to be, to fulfill his purpose. After all he said “The Son of Man came to serve, not to be served.”
All the teaching about the action came after, when they were confused. “Do you know what I have done for you?” Nope, he could read it in their eyes, they didn’t get it. They were still looking for the best seats, they were still looking for their rewards in heaven, or on earth. They didn’t know what he had done, which means they didn’t know him. At all. We sometimes envy the disciples, because they got to spend time with him, they got to hear his voice and see his eyes, they watched his hands, they were right there. And they didn’t get it. They didn’t have any advantage.
Later on Jesus says “I’m giving you a new commandment.” That’s where the word Maundy comes from. The Latin maundatum or command. The new commandment, he says later is “Love one another as I have loved you.” Except it wasn’t new, not really. He had already acted it out in front of them. “As I have loved you.” By serving, by getting on his knees, by bending to a task that even fishermen thought was beneath them. Love like I loved, says Jesus.
It wasn’t supposed to be a once a year command. The church has turned Maundy Thursday into quite a ritual over the years. The Pope would find some beggars - or his people would find some beggars - and then very publicly would wash their feet. The monarch of England would do the same, until it got too uncomfortable for them, now they hand out some money. Maundy Money, it’s called. Once a year.
But it was never supposed to be a ritual. It was supposed to be a way of life. Oh, foot-washing isn’t a part of our culture, that isn’t necessarily what is supposed to be carried on. It is the willingness to serve that is the command. The Maundy. On Thursday, or Monday. Or any day. And even The Mamas and The Papas knew it wasn’t always going to be a piece of cake. Sometimes it’s a good day, all you hoped it to be. Other times it seems cruel, not what you expected. That’s a part of the risk of service. Sometimes it doesn’t turn out like you hoped, sometimes it isn’t received like you intended. And our inclination is to stop rather than risk doing it wrong. At least until we remember that Monday comes every week. Or maybe we remember that Maundy comes again and again, every time there is an opportunity to serve.
“Every other day of the week is fine ...” Fine for serving in the name of the One who served.
Shalom,
Derek
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