Showing posts with label humility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humility. Show all posts

Sunday, October 20, 2024

Lectionary 29B

Mark 10:35-45

Do you remember being in school and the teacher would begin to ask a question, and a hand would shoot up before the teacher had finished talking? There was always someone ready to jump in, eager to impress but not stopping to listen to what was being said.

James and John, even though they’re grown men, are like those overly excited school children tugging on Jesus’ robes, urging him to choose them, to bless them, to give them the influence or authority - the power - that he has.

Telling Jesus, “We want you to do whatever we ask of you”, they are oblivious to the weight, or burden, of the yoke – the responsibility - that comes with their desires. They cannot see past their own egos to understand what they are asking Jesus to do.

The self-centeredness that James and John display is at the very center of what Martin Luther defined as sin. He called it “incurvatus in se”, or being "curved in on ourselves".

And CS Lewis in his preface to Screwtape Letters writes,

We must picture Hell as a state where everyone is perpetually concerned about his own dignity and advancement, where everyone has a grievance, and where everyone lives the deadly serious passions of envy, self-importance, and resentment.

Self-centeredness and self-importance are the enemies of servanthood, and service to others is central to discipleship and following Jesus.

Two thousand years hasn’t changed the human condition all that much. We see the same patterns or behaviors far too often in modern life.

Most recently, here in western North Carolina, there have been stories that spotlight the sinful human condition that Luther and Lewis describe.

Well-intentioned donors dumped piles of clothing in places like Burnsville and at IAM, trying to help, but creating a flood of textiles that has only made it harder to organize resources. Making a plan that doesn’t include talking with the people we’re trying to help isn’t serving others; it’s only boosting our own egos in the name of “helping.”

And, while those folks missed the mark, others weren’t even trying to help. They simply seized on the stories of loss and created scams to benefit from the generous donors willing to pitch in and help neighbors financially. Others began soliciting work they never plan to finish, targeting vulnerable residents who aren’t sure where to find help.

In these places, no one was asking, like Jesus did,

“What is it you want me to do?”

Instead, they were acting out of their own interests, priorities, and charitably, their own ignorance.

When James and John come to Jesus, he tries to tell them they don’t know what they are asking, and then he addresses all the disciples, as a group, talking to them about what it means to be a servant and a disciple.

First Jesus talks about sacrifice, and the cup that he will drink. And with his words, because we are on this side of the crucifixion, we recall the cup of sour wine or vinegar that the soldiers gave him at the crucifixion. When he speaks about the right and the left, we are reminded that, at the crucifixion, those who are on his right and his left will be a robber and a thief, and most of the disciples had deserted him and hidden themselves out of fear of the authorities.

Jesus then contrasts what the world calls leadership to what leadership in God’s kingdom looks like. He acknowledges that the world expects rulers to be heavy-handed and they expect great leaders to be tyrants. And then he offers the disciples a different way to lead. A different way to be.

Selfless instead of self-centered.

Self-effacing instead of self-important.

Self-sacrificing instead of self-aggrandizing.

It is a way of being that lets someone else write the story.

For us, as Christians, we submit to God.

We surrender our ways for God’s ways.

And we ask God, “What is it You want me to do?”

And then, hopefully, we stop and listen.

When we raise our hand,

when we step forward to volunteer,

when we agree to lead,

hopefully we do so with the humility modeled by Jesus.

Thankfully, there are many stories of good work and generous volunteers responding well and effectively to the wreckage of Tropical Storm Helen in our community and throughout our region.

Many businesses are finding ways to help neighbors whether it was feeding neighbors Brunswick stew, giving away tomatoes, offering free laundry or hosting live music when the lights first came back on;
teams of volunteers are being coordinated through Habitat for Humanity to help households clean up and make repairs;
many, many volunteers are helping IAM and Manna Food Bank box and distribute the supplies they have;
congregations from other parts of North Carolina, as well as the Midwest and South have sent their quilts, blankets and winter coats to us to give to neighbors who may not have what they need as nighttime temperatures fall into the thirties;
Children & Family Resource Center and others have been making sure families have what they need to care for children and babies now;
and Storehouse has begun intake for their annual “Blessings in boxes” Christmas distribution, so that children will have as bright a Christmas as possible; 
and many people are giving financial gifts that help provide funding for recovery well into the future.

As we look ahead at where God is calling each of us, and our congregation, in the future, may we enter into conversation with God and with our neighbors and community, listen well, and ask,

“What is it you want us to do?”

Let us pray.

Good and gracious God, 

Thank you for your son Jesus who shows us what being a servant looks like. 

Help us follow Him and set aside our egos and our desires so that we can listen to You and know Your will. 

We pray in the name of our Lord and Savior. 

Amen.


Sunday, February 25, 2024

Second Sunday in Lent (El segundo domingo de Cuaresma)

Marcos 8:31-38

I preached this sermon in the Spanish service; the English translation is below. 

Oremos…
Que las palabras de mi boca y las meditaciones de nuestros corazones sean aceptables a tu vista, oh Señor nuestra fuerza y nuestro redentor. Amén.

No es sorprendente si tienes un latigazo espiritual esta semana. Durante los últimos tres domingos, hemos subido a la cima de la montaña de Jesús y sus discípulos Pedro, Santiago y Juan para la transfiguración y luego regresamos al río Jordan para el bautismo de Jesús. Y ahora estamos al final de su ministerio en Galilea.

El hilo común a lo largo de estos eventos es la tentación primero de Pedro, y luego de Jesús, y ahora nuevamente de Pedro para buscar primero, no el reino de Dios, sino la gloria del mundo.

En la transfiguración, Pedro propuso que pudieran quedarse allí en la cima de la cima de Moisés, Elías y Jesús. Después del bautismo de Jesús, Marcos dice que en el desierto, Jesús fue tentado por Satanás. Y ahora, después de escuchar la dura verdad sobre el costo del discipulado, Pedro nuevamente sugiere una manera más cómoda, reprendiendo a Jesús por decirles que el camino de la cruz será de sufrimiento. Aunque Pedro había confesado que Jesús es el Mesías (v.29) solo unos minutos antes, él y los discípulos todavía estaban pensando en el reino y el Mesías en términos del mundo. No entendieron que Cristo el rey era un rey servidor, no imperial, con todas las trampas de los emperadores que ya conocían.

Y cuando Pedro discute con Jesús, puedes escucharlo decir "¡Jesús, di que no es así!" Pero Jesús no vacila. A su vez, reprende severamente a Pedro, diciendo "¡Ponte detrás de mí, Satanás!" (v. 33)

Cuando escuché por primera vez su reprensión, imaginé que Jesús se dirigía a Pedro como si fuera la encarnación de Satanás. A menudo no hablamos sobre la encarnación del diablo o Satanás fuera de los libros o películas, pero esa es la imagen que tenía. Otros dicen que Jesús estaba señalando la tentación que Pedro representaba: la tentación de conformarse al mundo, y "tener [su] mente en las cosas humanas" (v. 33) La reprensión de Pedro era otra versión de la tentación que Jesús había enfrentado en el desierto al comienzo del evangelio de Marcos.

Y hay un segundo significado en sus palabras. Pedro era un discípulo de Jesús. Y un discípulo es un aprendiz o estudiante de su maestro; ellos lo siguen. No deben precipitarse hacia adelante como Pedro a menudo lo hace impulsivamente en los Evangelios. Necesitan "respaldar" literalmente y físicamente al maestro. Por lo menos, esa posición exige una medida de humildad.

Lo que Jesús exige es aún más desafiante; él dice: "Si alguno quiere convertirse en mis seguidores, que se nieguen a sí mismos y tomen su cruz y síganme". (v. 34)

Aunque hay tradiciones religiosas que creen que la autonegaciono el ascetismo es una práctica espiritual necesaria de abstinencia de las cosas que traen satisfacción, no leo las palabras de Cristo de la misma manera.

Otra interpretación de negarnos a nosotros mismos sería negar nuestra propia personalidad, pero recuerdo la advertencia de Cristo en el sermón del monte donde dijo,

Nadie después de encender una lámpara la pone debajo de un cajón, sino sobre el candelero, y asi le da luz a todos en la casa. De la misma manera, deja que tu luz brille ante los demás, para que puedan ver tus buenas obras y dar gloria a tu Padre en el cielo. (Mateo 5: 15-16)

Así que tampoco creo que eso sea lo que El quiere decir al negarnos a nosotros mismos.

Hace unos años, fui parte de un grupo de personas de la iglesia en un retiro, y al lado de las etiquetas con los nombres había un letrero que decía: "Deja tus títulos en la puerta". Todos estábamos allí para aprender unos de otros y de otros mismos. No estábamos allí debido a nuestros títulos o credenciales; estábamos allí porque queríamos profundizar nuestra fe.

A menudo en nuestro mundo moderno, la primera pregunta que hacemos a un nuevo conocido es: "¿A qué te dedicas?" Sé que sería contracultural, pero creo que Jesús estaría feliz si respondiéramos: "Sigo a Jesús".

Creo que esto es lo que Cristo quiere decir cuando nos dice que nos neguemos a nosotros mismos, y que tengamos nuestras mentes en cosas divinas y no en cosas humanas. (v.34-35) Seguir a Jesús significa realinearnos con él y recalibrar nuestras formas de pensar y actuar para que Jesús nos esté guiando en todos los aspectos de nuestras vidas. Significa elegir a Jesús primero. Y es difícil.

Negarme a mí mismo significa que tengo que pensar en el bienestar de los demás, y no solo en mis deseos. Negarme a mí mismo significa que tengo que pensar en cómo hacer las cosas de manera que construyan a la comunidad, y no solo me beneficie yo. Negarme a mí mismo significa derribar las defensas que me ayudan a mantener a los demás a distancia y a invitar a otros a compartir la vida juntos

Uno de mis profesores de predicación, Karoline Lewis, escribió,

Negarse asimismo y tomar tu cruz" nos invita a lo que la cruz también puede significar, no solo la muerte y el sufrimiento, sino que Dios eligiendo las relaciones humanas. La cruz representa el compromiso de Dios con la humanidad. La cruz representa lo que hacemos cuando no estamos en relación con el otro y pensamos solo en nosotros mismos.  Porque ser nosotros mismos es estar seguro de nuestra conexión.[i]

 

Esta comprensión de tomar nuestra cruz y negarnos a nosotros mismos nos reta a recordar que no somos seres solitarios. En el bautismo, somos adoptados en la familia de Dios y nuestra identidad no es solo nuestra. "Estamos conectados con Cristo y con una comunidad de creyentes".[ii] Entonces, esta Cuaresma podemos negarnos a la noción de que no necesitamos comunidad, que no necesitamos relaciones y que no necesitamos un lugar donde pertenecemos y somos amados.

Oremos…

Dios bueno y lleno de gracia, 
Gracias por tu amor que nos mostraste en Jesucristo. Gracias por elegirnos y liberarnos del pecado y la muerte. Fortalécenos por tu Espíritu para negarnos a nosotros mismos y seguir a Jesús, para negarnos a nosotros mismos y confiar en tu abundante amor y misericordia por nosotros. Oramos en el nombre de Jesús.
Amén.


[i] Karoline Lewis. “A Different Kind of Denial”, Dear Working Preacher. Luther Seminary. 2015.

[ii] ibid


Mark 8:31-38

It is not surprising if you have some spiritual whiplash this week. Over the past three Sundays we have climbed to the mountaintop with Jesus and his disciples Peter, James, and John for the transfiguration and then gone back to the river Jordan for Jesus’ baptism. And now we’re at the end of his ministry in Galilee.

The common thread throughout these events is the temptation first of Peter, and then of Jesus, and now again of Peter to seek first, not the kingdom of God, but the glory of the world.

At the transfiguration, Peter proposed that they could stay there on the mountaintop with Moses, Elijah and Jesus. After Jesus’ baptism, Mark says that in the wilderness, Jesus was tempted by Satan. And now, after hearing the hard truth about the cost of discipleship, Peter again suggests a more comfortable way, rebuking Jesus for telling them that the way the cross will be one of suffering. Although Peter had confessed that Jesus is the Messiah (v.29) just minutes earlier, he and the disciples were still thinking of the Kingdom and the Messiah in worldly terms. They did not understand that Christ the King was a servant-king, not an imperial one, with all the trappings of the emperors they already knew.

And when Peter argues with Jesus – you can hear him saying “Jesus , say it’s not so!” But Jesus doesn’t falter. He in turn rebukes Peter harshly, saying “Get behind me, Satan!” (v. 33)

When I first heard his rebuke, I imagined Jesus was addressing Peter as if he were the embodiment of Satan. We don’t often talk about the embodiment of the devil or Satan outside books or movies, but that’s the image I had. Others say that Jesus was calling out the temptation that Peter represented – the temptation to conform to the world, and “set [his] mind on human things” (v. 33) Peter’s rebuke was another version of the temptation Jesus had faced in the wilderness at the beginning of Mark’s gospel.

And there is a second meaning to his words. Peter was a disciple of Jesus. And a disciple is an apprentice or student of their master; they follow them. They should not charge ahead as Peter impulsively does so often in the gospels. They need to literally and physically “get behind” the master. At the very least, that position demands a measure of humility.

What Jesus demands is even more challenging; he says, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” (v. 34)

While there are religious traditions that believe that self-denial or asceticism is a necessary spiritual practice of abstinence from things that bring enjoyment, I don’t read Christ’s words in the same way.

Another understanding of denying ourselves would be to deny our very personhood, but I remember Christ’s admonition in the Sermon on the Mount where he said,

No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven. (Matt. 5:15-16)

So I don’t think that’s what he means by denying ourselves either.

A few years ago, I was part of a group of church people on a retreat, and next to the nametags was a sign that said, “Leave your titles at the door.” We were all there to learn with and from each other. We weren’t there because of our titles or credentials; we were there because we wanted to deepen our faith.

Often in our modern world, the first question we ask a new acquaintance is, “What do you do?” I know it would be counter-cultural, but I think Jesus would be pleased if we responded with, “I follow Jesus.”

I think this is what Christ means when he tells us to deny ourselves, and to set our minds on divine things and not on human things. (v.34-35) Following Jesus means realigning ourselves with Him and recalibrating our ways of thinking and acting so that Jesus is leading us in all aspects of our lives. It means choosing Jesus first. And it’s hard.

To deny myself means that I have to think of the wellbeing of others, and not only my desires. To deny myself means that I have to think about how to do things in ways that build community, and not just benefit me. To deny myself means breaking down the defenses that help me keep others at arms-length and invite others into life together.

One of my preaching professors, Karoline Lewis, wrote,

To “deny yourself and take up your cross” invites us into what the cross can also mean -- not just death and suffering, but God choosing human relationships. The cross represents God’s commitment to humanity. The cross represents what we do when we are not in relationship with the other and think only for ourselves. Because to be ourselves is to be certain of our connectedness.[i]

This understanding of taking up our cross and denying ourselves challenges us to remember that we are not solitary beings. In baptism we are adopted into God’s family and our identity is not ours alone. “We are connected to Christ and to a community of believers.”[ii] So this Lent we can deny ourselves the notion that we don’t need community, that we don’t need relationships, and that we don’t need a place where we belong and are loved.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God, 
Thank you for your love shown us in Jesus Christ. Thank you for choosing us and freeing us from sin and death. Strengthen us by your Spirit to deny ourselves and follow Jesus, to deny ourselves and trust in Your abundant love and mercy for us. We pray in Jesus’ name.
Amen.


[i] Karoline Lewis. “A Different Kind of Denial”, Dear Working Preacher. Luther Seminary. 2015.

[ii] ibid 

Sunday, July 9, 2023

Lectionary 14A (Sexto domingo después de Pentecostés)

Mateo 11:16-19, 25-30

I preached this sermon in the Spanish service; the English translation is below. 

Oremos…

Sean gratos los dichos de mi boca y las meditaciones de nuestros corazones delante de ti, oh Jehovah, Roca mía y Redentor mío. Amén. (Salmos19:14 RVA)

Cuando nos encontramos con Jesús en el Evangelio de hoy, él habia estado enseñando. Primero, escuchamos su Sermón del Monte donde nos desafió a vivir las promesas del reino de Dios aquí en la tierra.

Despues Jesús le dijo a sus discípulos lo costoso que sería seguirlo. Les dijo que incluso sus familias podrian odiarlos. Les dijo que la gente es voluble o poco confiable y que es imposible complacer a todos.

Y luego les dijo, que el reino de Dios no se realiza por nuestras acciones. El reino de Dios es la acción de Dios en el mundo y estamos invitados a participar en él. De la misma manera, el conocimiento de Dios no viene a través de pruebas empíricas, sino a través de la revelación y el don de la sabiduría que Dios nos ha dado.

Y luego, al final del Evangelio de hoy, Jesús ofrece una invitación.

Jesús sabe en qué formas las contradicciones e inconsistencias del mundo son injustas. Jesús sabe que las expectativas que ponemos en nosotros mismos no son realistas. Pero también sabe que la promesa es que el reino de Dios será justo. Será un lugar donde la humildad y el servicio a los demás sean la norma. Será un lugar donde se valore la pacificación sobre la guerra.

Es el lugar donde se encuentra la libertad.

La libertad aquí no es solo la libertad de la esclavitud de los amos opresores. La libertad en el evangelio es la libertad de la esclavitud del pecado. Es la libertad de las cosas que nos alejan de Dios y de las formas en que nos alejamos de Dios. Es la libertad de saber que en Cristo somos justificados y santificados. Por gracia somos salvos o liberados. Y no estamos solos. Estamos unidos con Cristo.

La invitación aquí no es una invitación a unas vacaciones para toda la vida. Jesús nos ve, atados o en yugo a cosas que nos deprimen. Él ve nuestros miedos y preocupaciones y nuestro agotamiento. Nos invita a hacer un intercambio. Dejar el yugo que hemos llevado y tomar el que él nos ofrece. Nuestras cargas son más ligeras porque no estamos solos. Jesús nos ayuda a llevarlas, fortaleciéndonos, dándonos descanso para que seamos renovados para lo que viene.

Debido a que él nos ha advertido, podemos esperar que estar en yugo con Jesús tendrá sus propios desafíos. Elegir la humildad sobre el orgullo o la arrogancia significa sacrificio. Y elegir la mansedumbre sobre la violencia o la coerción significa rendirse. Unidos a Jesús, se nos recuerda que la vida en el reino de Dios se ve diferente de los reinos terrenales.

Una de las diferencias es que se nos manda a descansar. Oímos en el primer mandamiento: "Acuérdate del día de reposo para santificarlo. (Éxodo 20:8)

Las preguntas sobre qué es el día de reposo y qué significa santificarlo podrían ser un estudio bíblico completo. Pero la semana pasada alguien me preguntó cómo es mi sábado de reposo. Para mí, como pastor, no pienso en el domingo como mi día de reposo porque por muy alegre que sea este trabajo, estoy trabajando. Pero trato, en la medida de lo posible, de mantener los viernes como mi día de reposo. Un día lejos de mi computadora, correo electrónico y reuniones. Tengo una pequeña confesión: a menudo todavía escribo mi sermón ese día porque es el día en que puedo encontrar un lugar tranquilo donde puedo escribir. Pero con la misma frecuencia, hago yoga, paso tiempo al aire libre, leo y descanso. Descanso, confiada en que la lista de cosas por hacer estará allí al día siguiente. Descanso consciente de que mi cuerpo no es una máquina. Descanso sabiendo que está bien simplemente estar presente en el mundo y estar agradecida por mi lugar en él.

Al invitarnos a vivir juntos, Jesús alienta este tipo de descanso sabático donde podemos descansar y renovarnos en cuerpo, mente y alma.

Tiene el propósito de ser un bálsamo o ungüento, para ayudarnos a sanar y ser fortalecidos para nuestra vida juntos en el reino de Dios.

Oremos…

Dios bueno y misericordioso,

Gracias por tu Hijo Jesús

quien nos libra del pecado

y nos muestra el camino de la sabiduría,

revelando la bondad de la vida juntos.

Ayúdanos a vivir con humildad y mansedumbre y encontrar descanso para nuestras almas.

Oramos en el nombre de Jesús.

Amén.


Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

When we meet Jesus in today’s Gospel, he’s been teaching. First, we heard his Sermon on the Mount where he challenged us to live out the promises of God’s kingdom here on earth.

Then Jesus told his disciples how costly following him will be. He told them that even their families may hate them. He told them that people are fickle or unreliable and that it is impossible to please everyone.

And then he told them, that the kingdom of God isn’t realized because of our actions. The kingdom of God is God’s action in the world and we are invited to participate in it. In the same way, knowledge of God doesn’t come through empirical proof, but through revelation and the gift of wisdom given to us by God.

And then, at the end of today’s Gospel, Jesus offers an invitation.

Jesus knows that the ways in which the contradictions and inconsistencies of the world are unjust. Jesus knows that the expectations we place on ourselves are unrealistic. But he also knows that the promise is that God’s kingdom will be just. It will be a place where humility and service to others are the standard. It will be a place where peacemaking is valued over war-mongering.

It is the place where freedom is found.

Freedom here isn’t only freedom from slavery by oppressive masters. Freedom in the gospel is freedom from bondage to sin. It is freedom from the things that draw us away from God and from the ways that we turn away from God. It is the freedom of knowing that in Christ, we are justified and sanctified. By grace we are saved or freed. And we are not alone. We are united with Christ.

The invitation here isn’t an invitation to a lifelong vacation. Jesus sees us, tethered or yoked to things that lay us low. He sees our fears and worries and our exhaustion. He invites us to make a trade. To put down the yoke we have carried and to take the one that he offers to us. Our burdens are lighter because we are not alone. Jesus helps us carry them, strengthening us, giving us rest that we may be renewed for what lies ahead.

Because he has warned us, we can expect that being yoked with Jesus will have its own challenges. Choosing humility over pride or arrogance means sacrifice. And choosing gentleness over violence or coercion means surrender. Yoked to Jesus, we are reminded that life in God’s kingdom looks different from earthly kingdoms.

One of the differences is that rest is commanded. We hear in the first commandment: "Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy. (Exodus 20:8 NSV) Questions of what sabbath is and what it means to keep it holy could be a whole Bible study. But last week someone asked me what my sabbath looks like. For me, as a pastor, I don’t think of Sunday as my Sabbath because as joyful as this work is, I am working. But I try, as much as possible, to keep Fridays as my Sabbath day. A day away from my computer, email and meetings. I have a small confession: often I still write my sermon on that day because It is the day when I can find a quiet place where I can write. But just as often, I do yoga, I spend time outside, I read and I rest. I rest, confident the list of things to do will be there the next day. I rest aware that my body is not a machine. I rest knowing that it is okay to simply be present in the world and be grateful for my place in it.

Inviting us into life together, Jesus encourages this kind of Sabbath rest where we can rest and be renewed in body, mind and soul. It is meant to be a balm or salve, to help us heal and be strengthened for our life together in the kingdom of God.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for your Son Jesus

who frees us from sin

and shows us the way of wisdom,

revealing the goodness of life together.

Help us live with humility and gentleness and find rest for our souls.

We pray in the name of Jesus.

Amen.

Thursday, April 9, 2020

Maundy Thursday

John 13:1-17, 31b-35 

Grace and peace to you.

Maundy Thursday is traditionally when we would hear the story of Jesus eating with his disciples before his arrest, and we would come to the table to receive the wine and the bread for the sacrament of Holy Communion. But because of the coronavirus, tonight is different, and thankfully, John’s gospel helps us imagine a different way of Jesus being with his disciples. In this account, we hear the story of Jesus washing their feet.

While we may know the story of Holy Week well enough to anticipate the denials and betrayals that are coming, at this point in the story, Peter has not yet denied Jesus and even Judas is still with him when he gets up from the table, pours water into a basin, and washes the disciples’ feet clean and then dries them.

The act of foot washing itself was ordinary. Even mundane. It was necessary. Sandaled feet walking on dusty roads get dirty. But it was usually the kind of work that was assigned to a slave or servant. Here, Jesus, welcomed days earlier into Jerusalem with shouts of Hosanna and proclaimed King of the Jews, humbled himself to serve the people around him.

Foot washing isn’t like splashing in a swimming pool or even a bathtub; it requires gentleness and compassion. Baring our feet, we expose our hardened callouses, painful corns, cracked or broken skin, and arthritic toes bent by age.

It requires vulnerability and humility, and we are not comfortable being vulnerable.

Many of us shun the idea of participating in a public footwashing; it asks too much of us. We worry what others will think or say. Every one of us carries shame from experiences somewhere in our lives, and we are afraid that vulnerability leaves us exposed. It risks too much.

After he washed the feet of his disciples, Jesus asked them “Do you know what I have done to you?”

Suddenly it’s clear that there’s more happening here than we can see. Led by Jesus, the ordinary has become sacred.

Humbling himself and washing their feet, Jesus has invited the disciples to be vulnerable, to surrender their fears and receive the very love of God, who already knows every inch of our bodies and our being and from whom no secrets are hid.

With never-ending love, God washes away our fears and doubts, the sweat and tears we shed from doing hard things, and the messiness of our lives.

Washed clean by the love of God, we are given a new command, to love others just as we have been loved.


We know how to do that! In this time of quarantine and staying at home, we love others by calling to check how they are; mailing cards to those who live alone; putting an extra can of soup into the collection bin at the grocery store; and staying home from unnecessary travel. Being vulnerable means showing up in the lives of people who are hurting. That doesn’t sound so frightening or impossible, or like it asks too much of us.

Maybe one of the gifts of this Maundy Thursday is that even as we are gathered together online and on the phone, we are just far enough apart to dispel some of those fears that we live with and risk being vulnerable, to each other and to God.

So tonight, after our hymn, I invite you to wash the hands of another person, or if, like me, you are alone, to wash your own hands, remembering that, especially now, the act of handwashing is an act of service to our neighbor.

Jesus reminds us that loving others doesn’t require the impossible, but that our most ordinary actions become sacred and extraordinary because they are grounded in God’s love for us.

Thanks be to God.