2024 03 28 Sermon Love in Spirit & Body
Love in Spirit and Body
Maundy Thursday
1 Corinthians 11:23-26; Exodus 12:1-14; John 13:1-17,34-35
Rev. Karl-John N. Stone
We’ve probably all had a time when you told someone “I’ll be with you in spirit.” Like, maybe you’re sending your regrets that you are unable to attend a special party. And when you say “I’ll be with you in spirit” you mean “I’d like to be there; I’ll be thinking of you and maybe even doing something special in your honor—but I will not be there bodily, in the flesh.”
We’ve also all probably had times when you’ve been physically present in the room, but you were so tuned out to what was going on that it’s almost like you were never there. Like if you’ve had to sit through a class that you found really boring and had no idea what the teacher was talking about; well, that means you were there in body but not in spirit. But when your spirit and your body can both be “tuned in”, then you have a chance for a really special experience. It’s like the famous naturalist John Muir once said about his strict Presbyterian upbringing and his love for the wilderness: “I’d rather be in the mountains thinking about God than in church thinking about mountains.” He wanted to experience God and nature at the same time, in spirit and in body, and therefore be “tuned-in” to both.
Your presence—your full, complete, whole-hearted presence—involves both spirit and body. Jesus is no different. We hear in John’s gospel that “Having loved his own who were in the world, Jesus loved them to the end.” And this little phrase “to the end” means that Jesus loved his disciples fully, completely, whole-heartedly. This kind of love requires both spirit and body; it requires keeping people company and being “tuned in” to them—with your thoughts, your actions, the little things you do to help them, the special gestures you make.
Loving presence—in spirit and body—is what Jesus promised his disciples, and us, on that night of the Last Supper when he was betrayed into the hands of sinners. Several things of significance happened on that night of the Last Supper. For one, it was around the time of Passover, the great festival of Jewish faith that commemorates the Exodus—the central event that formed them into a people. The Lord God, working through Moses, liberated the Hebrews from slavery and oppression in Egypt, and led them through the sea and into freedom, first in the wilderness and eventually to the Promised Land. That night of the Passover it all began with a special meal, the one we heard about in today’s first reading. And Jews still eat a form of this special Passover meal so they can remember what God did for them in these miraculous events; and so they can renew their identity as a people today.
Our sacred meal as Christians of Holy Communion has echoes of the Passover, and that’s because the Last Supper happened right around the time of the Passover festival. The disciples’ special meal with Jesus was very similar to a traditional Passover meal, but Jesus also changed it and re-interpreted it, not simply for the sake of change, but because he used the meal as a way to make a promise. He promised that he would be present and available among his followers in spirit and body whenever we gather around the bread and cup, give thanks to God, and hear the words of Jesus’ promise attached to the bread and wine—“this bread, my body;” Jesus promised, and “this cup, my blood of the new covenant”—and in the eating and drinking of the Lord’s Supper together with the family of God, you receive the forgiveness of sins, as well as little taste of heaven, right from Jesus himself.
Christ’s presence does not depend on how “good” we are, or even how much faith we have, or how much love we display—after all Jesus shared the Last Supper even with Judas who betrayed him. Christ’s presence and promise depends only on his love and faithfulness for us. A love and faithfulness so full, so complete, so whole-hearted that it has defeated even betrayal and death. And he chose the simplicity of bread and wine to be his body and blood by design; they are elements of food that can be found just about anywhere you go. And a special meal is something families all around the world share together to show their love for one another. Why should it be any different in the family of God?
This brings me to another thing that happened during the Last Supper, which also gives us our identity as the family of God. At some point while they were eating, Jesus got up from the table and began to wash the disciples’ feet. Unlike today, back then footwashing was common—just think of all those people wearing sandals and walking the dusty roads. It would almost be like taking your car through a car wash. What was unusual was for someone of Jesus’ stature to be the one doing the footwashing. That’s what students did for their teachers; what servants did for their masters. Jesus is reversing the roles! And Peter knows he is unworthy of such a kind gesture, declaring “Lord, you must never wash my feet!”. But this was another way of Jesus showing that love means being present in spirit and body. As he washed their feet, Jesus showed his disciples that he fully, completely, whole-heartedly loved them—and he teaches us that if you really want to know God, don’t start with power, glory, majesty, or might over others. Instead start with love and humble service.
His devotion to love and humble service led Jesus all the way to the cross. Love and humble service is what really changes people’s lives, both for the giver and the receiver. Footwashing itself is not a gesture that most people need much anymore, at least not in Wisconsin; but these days everybody needs to experience the kinds of things that footwashing accomplished back then: a sense of helpfulness, kindness, welcome, and inclusion. People need to feel valued and know they are important to God and to others. And the more someone feels unimportant or is told they are not valuable, then the more they need to experience the modern equivalents of “footwashing”, whatever that might be. Maybe it’s offering a drink of water or a cup of coffee. Maybe it’s holding the door open for someone. Maybe it’s letting the driver with the flashing turn signal cut in front of you in traffic. Maybe it’s standing up for someone who’s been bullied. Maybe it’s lending an ear to someone who feels troubled.
Well, these are all “common kindnesses” that are easy enough to do for people you know and like, and that’s are a good place to start. The next step, though, if you want to continue “footwashing” in the way of Jesus, is to do these common kindnesses for the person who hates you or who has wronged you. After all, Jesus even washed Judas’s feet, even when he knew Judas was going to betray him. That’s a whole lot harder.
Yet Jesus has freed us to offer ourselves even in this most difficult way, because he has secured God’s love, forgiveness, and salvation for us through the cross—and he has called us to belong to him in his kingdom. Amen.