Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him. And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” Jesus answered, “You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!” Jesus said to him, “One who has bathed does not need to wash, except for the feet, but is entirely clean. And you are clean, though not all of you.” For he knew who was to betray him; for this reason he said, “Not all of you are clean.” After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, “Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them.
John 13:1-17, 31b-35
When he had gone out, Jesus said, “Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once. Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, ‘Where I am going, you cannot come.’ I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”
My sermon from Maundy Thursday (April 1, 2021) on John 13:1-17, 31b-35.
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So on Monday, I was running about ten minutes late to my first COVID vaccine appointment. During the rush to get my three kids out the door, I forgot to pack some snacks for my two year old. I quickly grabbed a pear, some veggie straws, and a Super Mario Brother water bottle and made a quick detour to daycare. I then headed towards the vaccination center run by Valley Health in Paramus. I had no trouble getting a parking spot near the door and there was literally no line to get in. The only thing I was asked to do before I checked-in was to squirt some sanitizer on my hands and have my temperature checked by a tablet that could tell I was wearing a facemask. On the floor were big blue circles letting me know where I could stand – like a real life version of the board game Candy Land. The circles snaked around the room, inviting me to hop, skip, and jump to the check-in desk. On the desk was a large packet of papers stapled together. I couldn’t read the pages but I assumed it was a long list of everyone who had an appointment. They asked for my name and started flipping through the document in their hands. Some of the pages were covered in yellow highlighter while others were mostly white. They flipped the pages one way, then the other, and then back the other way again. Eventually, they found me – and they added a new row of yellow highlighter to the page. But I was surprised by how much white was around my name. I figured with my lateness, that I’d be one of the last people that checked-in for that timespot. Yet at this time when securing an appointment for a vaccine is still not easy, there were a lot of people who hadn’t checked-in. After getting my name highlighted, I then moved into another CandyLand esque line. And while standing there, I found myself wondering: what was the story of the person who had an appointment but happened to be later than me?
Now, there’s a lot of different reasons why they might be late. Since we live in New Jersey, there’s always the problem of traffic or missing your exit on the Parkway. Or maybe their story was a bit like mine since you rarely get time off being a parent. Nor do you really get much time off as a kid – and it might have taken longer than expected for an elderly parent to safely leave their home and get in their car. Or maybe they were just late because a successful schedule has to navigate everyone else’s schedule too. Those were the kinds of stories that seem the most comfortable to dream up but other stories were possible too. Maybe the person who booked the appointment did it on behalf of someone else who already received their vaccine elsewhere. Or maybe it was for a person working from home who planned to take an extended break but got stuck on a meeting over Zoom that could have really been settled in an email. There’s also the parent or teacher or parent/teacher who was supposed to be covered while teaching in their school but had to make every virtual due to rising virus cases in our area. And then there’s the person who’s unemployment benefits ran out – or hadn’t started – and they need to choose between visiting a food pantry or getting the vaccine. The more I wondered, the more I noticed how simply getting an appointment might not be enough. What was truly needed was a support network able to step into our lives for an hour so we didn’t feel like we had to throw away our shot. Getting the appointment was hard but getting to the appointment could be harder. Caring for each other is often a team sport – and it’s not easy to love one another when you don’t get the support you need, too.
Later on in worship, we’ll participate in a ritual we do every Maundy Thursday. After we bring all our concerns up to God and after we celebrate the Lord’s Supper and wash each other’s feet or hands – the altar – the table Jesus has already prepared for us – will be stripped bare. Every candle, parament, and even the plastic we keep under the altar cloth in case I spill some wine, will be removed. Now, since we’re worshipping online, what you’ll see is a video of me doing that in the sanctuary. And while I weave in and out of your screen, you’ll listen to a reading from the gospel according to John. And those verses are actually ones we skipped in the reading right before this sermon. We heard Peter deny Jesus by telling him to not wash his feet. And we heard Jesus give us a new commandment to love one another. Yet sandwiched between those two passages is the one where Judas left Jesus’ table and told the local authorities where he was. We often approach this passage from John in a piecemeal manner by focusing on either Peter’s freakout about Jesus touching his feet or by zeroing in on Jesus’ commandment to love one another. But I wonder what these words sound like if we keep the story whole? What does it mean to hear Peter’s denial, to know what Judas was about to do, and yet see Jesus wash their feet anyways? And how do we hold the truth of that denial and betrayal while listening to Jesus command us to love everyone in a brand new way? When we put the whole story together – the parts that strip ourselves bare and those bits that invite us to wonder – Jesus’ commandment feels different. It has heft and weight and might even be a little scary. Because Jesus didn’t tell us to only love those who are easy to love. Rather, he said we needed to wash the feet of those who do not like us and those who cannot stand us. Now, this wasn’t Jesus telling us to put-up with abuse or to accept a kind of love within our personal relationships that harms who we are. But it does invite a kind of self-reflection looking at the ways we love one another. And even though I can’t see you right now – I know that you, even on your bad days, do your best to share the grace of God everyday. It’s a grace that even surprises you – like when you’re way more patient than you usually are or when you take a moment to offer a true listening ear to a friend. I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard for you to list all the ways you haven’t loved fully or deeply or as widely as you wanted. Yet I believe you keep loving others anyways because Christ has already made you his own. I know it doesn’t always feel like that but in your baptism and in your faith – the Spirit of God is with you – which means the love of God is with you too. And that kind of love isn’t a love of sentimentality or merely a feeling that would look good on a card from Hallmark. Rather, it’s a love willing to do hard things – giving even the hopeless, hope. Yet the responsibility to love is not one that falls on individuals alone. Because Jesus didn’t pull Peter aside after his denial and tell him to go wash other people’s feet. Rather, he did this among a group of everyone who he gathered around his table. We are given, as a community, the responsibility to help each other love. And that’s not always an easy thing to do. We might find ourselves having to take on a bit more work than we expected or to even listen to a person we’re in conflict with. We might have to learn how to be vulnerable, willing to share the ugly bits of our own story so that those around us realize they’re not going through their pain alone. We get to do the hard work of helping each other love the people around them. How that looks is going to change depending on the situation and circumstance. Yet if we lean on love – and in every situation work hard to do the most loving thing in that moment – we’re doing more than being good people. We’re being Christ’s people – because that’s who you already are. So let’s commit ourselves to help one other love. And may our most reverent best guess centered in mercy, forgiveness, and hope be the sign of how our God chooses to go all-in for us all.
Amen.