St. Paul’s Episcopal Church Wesley Chapel, FL
Preacher: The Rev. Adrienne R. Hymes
Maundy Thursday (All Years)—April 14, 2022
John 13:1-17, 31b-35
Parents impart knowledge and instruction to their children; they are the child’s first teacher. Behaviors and habits that have become the norm for the adults, but inappropriate for children, may, from time to time, come to light. When that happens, there is, for a moment, a disconnect between what the children have been taught and what their parent-teachers are doing. Perhaps you recall, like I do, your parents instructing you to never say “that bad word,” yet somehow, bad words would fill the car in stop and go traffic. And, just for good measure, a few animated hand gestures might be thrown in to communicate to an offending driver, that they were in the wrong.
As a child, when I called my mother out on her “bad behaviors” in the moment, she would respond with what is probably not a universal response, but certainly a familiar parental response to children, “Do as I say, not as I do.” Well, I knew not to question such logic. But as I grew older, this “Do as I say, not as I do,” instruction just did not make sense. Instruction by word and deed, paired with the regular modeling of that instruction, nurtures replicated behavior. In our gospel passage in the 13th chapter of John, Jesus, the disciples’ Lord and Teacher, commands his disciples, “Do as I say and Do as I do.”
During his final Passover meal with his disciples, Jesus got up from the table and prepared himself to wash the feet of his disciples, by taking off his outer robe and tying a towel around himself.
Washing the feet of guests was relegated to the work of slaves. So, Peter, rightfully confused, questioned how it was possible that his Lord, Jesus, would wash the feet of his own servant. “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me,” said Jesus. In other words, “Peter, don’t question; do as I say.” Peter did not realize that Jesus was modeling a distinctive behavior reflecting the kind of servant leadership Jesus was imparting to his disciples. The disciples called Jesus, Teacher, and this foot washing was an experiential teaching moment.
After the foot washing Jesus retrieved his robe, put it on, and returned to the table to continue the teaching. “I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another’s feet,” said Jesus. “For I have set you an example that you also should do as I have done to you.”
When we are told that we ought to do something, an obligation or an expected duty is implied.
Jesus’ disciples, even with the understanding that foot washing was slaves’ work, were obliged to model their teacher’s instruction amongst themselves. “Disciples, let me wash your feet; Watch and do as I do.”
The word, maundy, is derived from the Latin word for command, maundatum. Maundy Thursday points to the commandment Jesus gave to his disciples at the end of our gospel passage. “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another…Just as I have loved you, you also should [ought to] love one another.” Jesus’ love, freely given, and generously modeled, is distinctive, and sets apart all upon whom that love has been poured through the waters of baptism into his death and resurrection. “By this, everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another,” said Jesus.
Over the last five weeks, several members of our faith community came together to explore what it might look like to become individual, and collective, bridges for racial healing and reconciliation, with the ever-present reality of the sin of racism.
Understanding that sin is broken relationship, the only starting point for such conversations to take place was from a place of love. In that intimate space, sacred stories were shared, courageous truth-telling occurred, and compassion and empathy emerged. As I reflect on our time together, we came together because we love Jesus, and we desire to be like Jesus, doing as he said and doing as he did. And, though there were no basins of water brought out, we were, in a sense, washing each other’s feet. Loving each other enough to hear, and respond to, the pain of our brothers and sisters in Christ, who have been living with the spiritual wounds of grievance, guilt and grief.
We are God’s instruments of healing. Spiritual wounds, left to fester, therefore, obstruct God’s intended flow of love—through us—for one another as Christ loved us. Servants of Christ ought to do the hard work of nurturing spiritual wholeness, within themselves, and for others, in order to walk this life’s journey in Christ in wholeness.
The love of God made manifest through Jesus is distinctive. We are to practice and apply the love that Jesus modeled within this community of faith so that when we show up in the world “out there” there will be no doubt that we belong to the life-giving source who is, in the ongoing reconciling action of God, making all things new.
Coretta Scott King, widow of the slain civil rights activist, The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., said, “The greatness of a community is most accurately measured by the compassionate actions of its members.”1 As a faith community, we ought to choose compassionate actions for others, which reflect the love of Christ. Even more, Jesus calls us to live into our purpose of becoming divine love in this world— actionable love that when witnessed, clearly distinguishes followers of Jesus from all that is not of love.
Tonight, as we share the body and blood of our Lord and Savior, let us, as Jesus did, at his last supper with his disciples, get up from the holy table, remove the outer robe of our temporal world “out there,” and tie around ourselves, our true identities as children of God.
May we always look to Jesus, our Lord and Teacher, as we strive to do as Jesus said and do as Jesus did. Amen.
1Associated Press. “King’s Widow Urges Acts of Compassion.” Los Angeles Times, 17 January 2000, King’s Widow Urges Acts of Compassion – Los Angeles Times (latimes.com).
