A double foretaste
Readings: John 13. 1-17, 31-35 & 1 Corinthians 11. 23-26
As we come to Maundy Thursday we come to a foretaste of what is to come, both in the life of Jesus in the days ahead, and in our ultimate destination.
On the night before he dies, Jesus stoops. He stoops down to wash his disciples feet. Such an act is surprising and even a little scandalous in itself for Jesus is the one in the position of power, he is their teacher, their Lord, he is by that very fact above such things. This is the job of a servant, a slave, and a fairly demeaning job at that. We shrink a little at the idea of our feet being washed but by comparison our feet are fairly decent. For a people who walked everywhere in sandals along dusty roads this wasn’t just a refreshing clean, this was a washing away of the dirt and grime that had built up along the journey, a bathing of the sores and blisters and cuts. This isn’t a pretty job.
And yet Jesus takes off his outer robe and stoops down to serve his disciples in this way. And in doing this he reveals what is actually going on, what has been going on this whole time, in a really poignant and obvious way, he makes clear to us what we may have missed about his life. This is just one stop along Jesus’ whole life of taking off and stooping.
Whilst the idea of a teacher and master washing his disciples feet is startling enough it’s far more shocking once you realise the reality of what’s going on. This is the God of the Universe doing this, this is the Son of the Most High who is stooping to the lowest place here. This isn’t just a teacher washing the feet of his pupils this is the creator washing the dirt off his creation, off his creatures. And once you start to see that you see where this started and where this is going.
Because the one who is highest above all, who is seated upon the throne beside his Father has already stooped. He has taken off his glory like a robe and stepped down into creation. He has divested himself of his glory and honour and power and has been born as a helpless baby, born into the care of his creation, into the care of his people. The infinite God come so close you can reach out and touch him. The one who lives in eternal glorious splendour comes and gets the dirt of our world under his fingernails. This God has already stooped, already taken off his outer robe to join us in our world, in our mess, in our brokenness. And so as he stoops to wash his disciples’ feet it should be the least surprising thing, he’s been doing just this for 33 years.
But whilst he has been doing this for 33 years what is coming next is the most shocking, the final stops along this road are the most surprising. For Jesus will stoop even lower, he will stoop to the cross, stripped naked, down into agony as he bears upon himself our sin, down into death to bear it away from us, down even into the depths of hell itself. When our God started stooping he didn’t stop until he had reached the bottom. There is no pit, no depth, no darkness we can find ourselves where he has not already gone. And tonight he gets the foretaste of what is to come, of where this road leads.
For it is on this night that he is betrayed by one of his closest friends, it is on this night that he is denied by one of his even closer friends, it is on this night that the rest flee into the night. It is on this night that the horrors of what are to come loom over him in the garden as he starts to taste the cup that is before him.
For as he is faced with the horror of what is to come, not just the crucifixion, although that would be enough for most, but the weight of our sin and shame, the sharpness of God’s judgement, as he starts to get a taste of it in Gethsemane he recoils doesn’t he. He’s so horrified by what is to come that his sweat becomes like drops of blood. I looked this up, it’s been documented, it’s called Hematohidrosis and is a condition in which the capillary blood vessels that feed the sweat glands rupture, causing them to exude blood, and it occurs under conditions of extreme physical or emotional stress. The anguish of what is before him overcomes him such that he prays “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me”, and yet how does that prayer finish? “yet not my will, but yours be done.” As he is faced with this final stooping he gets a taste of what is to come, and yet he enters into it with resolve, he will see this through to the end, and he will continue in obedience to the end.
And yet on this night, as Christ begins to taste the cup that is coming, as he has a foretaste of the horror and agony to come, Christ gives to us another foretaste, a foretaste of what is to come for us because of what he is to do.
In Luke’s account he records Jesus saying “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer. For I tell you, I will not eat it again until it finds fulfillment in the kingdom of God.” Jesus isn’t avoiding the suffering to come, he is actively moving towards it, no matter its dread. But the second part is what I want to spend my remaining few minutes on. Whilst Jesus shares this meal with them now, and commands them to keep doing this to remember what he has done, to look back upon the cross, he says that this is not the last time he shall share this meal, there’s another one coming when all reaches its fulfilment.
In other words as we take bread and wine and look back to the cross and upon our stooping Saviour we are at the same time having a foretaste of what is to come. For through the cross a new world is coming. One in which all sorrow and pain and sighing will flee away. One in which we will be united to Jesus as a bride to a groom. Where we will share not in the last supper, but in the first banquet, the wedding banquet which will inaugurate the new heavens and the new earth, the beginning of eternity. As we eat in a few moments in God’s presence we do so as ones who will one day see him face to face. As we rejoice together before him it’s a taste of the eternal joys, the eternal pleasures which await us when he comes again.
For what we share today is not just the reminder of how we got here, it’s a foretaste of where we are going. As Paul reminds us in that second reading, every time we eat this bread and drink of this cup, we proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes. Both a foretaste and the promise of the coming Kingdom of God.
My brothers and sisters, on this Maundy Thursday we see in dramatic fashion Jesus stooping to serve, but it is just one stop on a life which will stoop down into the furthest depths. As Jesus gets a foretaste of what awaits him, agony and suffering, he gives to us a foretaste of what awaits us, joy and life and God himself.
Amen.