April 8, 2020 § 1 Comment
“the act of trust is an utterly ruthless act”
While sheltered in place, the Church worldwide celebrates Holy Week, when Jesus entered Jerusalem, was celebrated, betrayed, arrested, and crucified – and then resurrected.
Maundy Thursday is the night he met with the disciples and instituted the Lord’s Supper. It was in that Upper Room that Jesus gave his friends the new command, to love one another (John 13:34).
On Friday we are sobered – and blessed – by the crucifixion of Jesus. We call that day Good because it is. On the Cross, Jesus died in payment for the sins of the world. Our atonement was secured at Calvary. Jesus died as our Substitute.
Saturday is quiet. Along with Easter Egg hunts, the Church remembers it as the day Jesus lay in the grave. The grave would be where Jesus would leave our guilt, shame and sin.
And then, Sunday. Easter, when music and message are all aimed at the celebration of the Resurrection of Jesus, and the hope we have in his conquest over sin and death. It is the celebration of celebrations.
Each day is dramatic and packed with meaning. But just 24-hours before events unfolded, the disciples moved through another day, oblivious to what was before them. I’m going to call it Clueless Wednesday, because that is what it was.
The fact is that we don’t know what God is doing with the world – with our worlds – in any given moment. We are clueless. I would argue that this is a good thing, because it is a childlike cluelessness. Even now, while we shelter in place, children delight in the moment, with danger as the furthest thing from their minds.
In hindsight we see events as they unfolded. Our past tense vision is 20/20, with the advantage of the whole picture. But until things happen, we have no idea what lies before. Like the disciples we move through the week, tending to responsibilities, enjoying friendships, caring for family, wrestling with life, temptation, weakness, and ambitions.
To know what lies before us in the immediate future is always tantalizing, but in reality, it would be disastrous, because the complexities of God’s unfolding redemptive plan would horrify us.
So, God never gives us more than what he is doing now. And, while for us we are clueless to the full meaning of the details of the immediate future, what matters is that Jesus knows what he is doing with the world – and with us.
What good news…
grace & peace.
April 2, 2015 § Leave a comment
“…the Lord’s Supper is a feast of forgiveness and reconciliation… The Supper is a gracious communion with a forgiving God; but it is also a supper we eat with one another, and that too will require forgiveness. God’s design for human flourishing cannot be satisfied in isolation.”
James K.A. Smith, Desiring the Kingdom
Tonight our church community will gather for a soup dinner. Together we will sing, hear a short message, and then share the Lord’s Supper. It is a Maundy Thursday tradition that began some four years ago, and has become one of the sweetest of evenings. On some level it is a reenactment of the night Jesus met with His disciples in that Upper Room, when He told them that His time to die had come. It was the night Judas would betray Him, and the rest of His friends would scatter.
The term, ‘Maundy’ comes from the Latin, ‘mandatum,’ and it means command. The connection is found in John’s gospel where Jesus says to His disciples (in that Upper Room), “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.” (John 13:34)
Whenever we gather at the Table of Christ, we not only reenact that dinner, but we also rehearse the Kingdom of God until Jesus returns and makes everything new. By gathering with people we may not see outside of worship, we retell the story of His reconciling love, of how He came and died and gave Himself. We remind ourselves that we are weak, broken and needy, but that our bond is a strong one because Jesus has come, and is coming.
And this is our good news…
March 28, 2013 § 3 Comments
This evening, along with many congregations around the world, our church community will celebrate the night that Jesus met with His disciples in the Upper Room for what is commonly known as, ‘The Last Supper.’ Borrowing from a friend who pastors a church in San Francisco, for the past three years we have celebrated with a soup dinner, worship and the Lord’s Supper. It is a sweet time.
On the most surface of levels that night could not have been more disastrous for Jesus. Not only did He disclose his impending death, but also He had to arbitrate His friends’ objections, internal arguments and despair. Additionally, it was in that room that He confronted His chief betrayer, Judas. Later that evening He would be arrested, and the next day, put to death.
And yet there could not be a more hopeful dinner party than that evening, because in the midst of the sad news, the disappointed friends and the torment to visit Jesus until He died, came a promise: “I tell you, I will not drink of this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it anew with you in my Father’s kingdom” (Matthew 26:29).
Though His friends could not see it, Jesus assured them – and us – that the end would not be the end, but the beginning that would find its greatest expression in God’s Kingdom. Interestingly this was the one and only feast that we know of Jesus inviting His friends to during His earthly ministry. This was His feast. I suspect that the food was incredible.
But it was only a taste. And by instituting the Lord’s Supper, He assured us that until the Kingdom comes and He once again sits with us, He will be our Feast.
Jesus will always be enough. What good news.