Maundy Thursday

Maundy Thursday is the commemoration of the "last supper."  Growing up Baptist, I feel pretty scholarly to throw in the Maundy Thursday part, as I didn't know that term even existed until a few years ago.

This, to me, is one of the moments in the passion week that I really identify with more so than the rest, I think.  I like what is portrays and what it represents.  I like that this was one of the last "normal life" moments Jesus had with His disciples.  They were celebrating the Passover around the table, just as they must have done many times before.  I think for most of us, I picture Thanksgiving dinner ... family and friends, big meal, lots of laughter, celebration, and thanksgiving.  I get the religious significance of Passover, but I also think it was both steeped in religion AND culture.

I love that so much of what Jesus did was wrapped up in real life.  I have grown to love Romans 12:1-2 as it is phrased in the Message.  It says:

"So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering ..."

That's what this night was.  Yes.  There was so much more to come.  Yes, Jesus knew it.  But at it's heart, this was a meal with His closest friends.  A meal that was a remembrance of God's deliverance from the Egytians.  They could not understand the significance that it would one day be a remembrance of God's deliverance from sin. For now, it was a meal.

The table is one of my most favorite places.  I love the conversations and celebrations that happen there.  I love to cook.  I love to set the table, just so.  I love to just linger after the meal and talk and talk, until the moon is high in the sky.  This is my favorite.

I can remember sitting at the table at my grandmother's long after a meal, until my Grandfather would comment, "the comfortable chairs are in the other room."  But still, there is something magical about the table.  Put 10 people around a living room and they are all off in their own space ... someone is on their phone, a couple are talking to each other, one is watching TV ... but there's something about the table that brings us all to ONE place.  We are all looking at one another, there are real conversations happening.  And the food .... I love to cook it, and I love to eat it ... and I love to share it.  It's my answer to any crisis ... take a meal.  It's my answer to every celebration - let's eat!  Love.

One of my favorite writers is Shauna Niequist (she wrote a wonderful book about the amazing things that happen around the table called, Bread and Wine).  She says:

Body of Christ, broken for you. Blood of Christ, shed for you. “Every time you eat the bread and drink the wine,” Jesus says, “remember me.” Communion is connection, remembrance. 

We've MADE communion into something we do at church once a quarter.  They play the same songs, we serve the same crackers.  We observed this just this week at my church.  It is special.  And it is good.  But, I think, we've missed the boat.  Jesus wasn't asking us to pass the grape juice and say a prayer.  He didn't institute a new sacrament, I don't even think.  When we look at it in context, he's saying the same thing as Paul (with a little help from Eugene Peterson) did in Romans 12 ... He's saying as you live your everyday life, remember me.  He doesn't call me to remember Him just on Easter or just when we pass the elements.  Yes, we often need special remembrances, so I'm not knocking observance of the Lord's Supper ... or claiming to have figured out something the church has missed.  I'm just saying, it's not enough.  If the only time we gave thanks was on Thanksgiving Day, what we would have missed.  If the only time we remember Christ's sacrifice is when we observe communion, what blessings we've missed.

The bread and the wine were the every day elements, not just of Passover, but of a typical Jewish meal of that time.  He's saying, when you gather to eat, remember me.

I bought a huge table when I moved into my GA house.  I loved the big square it made.  There were many hours spent at that table talking about life and God.  There were lots of celebrations held around that table and many, many meals served ... to college kids, to family, to friends.  If I fail to see God in that space, I am missing out.  So today, as I think about that Easter menu, I'm going to stop and consider how I can remember Christ around the table that day.  It may not be with wine and bread, but with joy and gratitude for what He gave for us.