With apologies to Moss Hart and George S. Kaufman, as well as Julius J. and Philip G. Epstein for mangling the title of their play and movie adaptation.
Today is Maundy Thursday on the liturgical calendar of many historically liturgical churches. We Baptists tend to know the name but don’t really do a lot with anything on the liturgical calendar except Christmas, Easter, and Good Friday. We remember the day as the day of the Last Supper and the arrest of the Lord Jesus. Let’s take a look at that Supper, shall we?
Let us consider this Passover, starting with the facts as we know them. It was the tradition and the law of the Jewish people to observe annually their deliverance from bondage in Egypt. There were portions of the observance that were clearly commanded in Scripture and we find those expressed mainly in Exodus but reinforced in a few other places. As things often do, of course, there were additional elements that tradition and time had added to the observance.
We can see in Exodus 12 that the meal was to be eaten with the household members, unless the household was too small, then they were to unite with another household to have a meal with no waste. The Passover was to be observed on the 14th of Abib, beginning in the evening.
So we find the New Testament story at that time of year. Lacking a definite year to assign, we lack a specific day of the week for the events. Traditional interpretation of the Sabbath after the Crucifixion gives us the idea of this falling on Thursday of our modern weeks, but there are some questions about that. (If you want to discuss that in the comments, feel free to calmly and rationally not call people idiots for disagreeing with you.)
I’ll take it as Thursday and leave the arguing for another day.
Thursday finds Jesus and His disciples in an upper room, leant to them by a family unnamed in Scripture. They recline at the table and prepare for the meal.
Sermon upon sermon has been built on this night. Most of us have heard mention of the washing of the feet, the bread and the cup, and the departure of Judas. (If you need to hear those, you can always listen here.)
How much do we really think about this night? How much do we think of the people who were there? We speak of the individual circumstances, like Peter or Judas, Thomas or John (the disciple whom Jesus loved), but what about the twelve of them as a group? Note: the text is clear that the Twelve are there, but some traditions give us the possibility that others are in the room. That’s possible–but I’ll focus on the ones we are certain of.
Dinner is happening, and the Lord Jesus shocks them by announcing “One of you will betray Me.” (Matthew 26:21) The response from each of the disciples is quite similar: “Surely I am not he, am I?” That one of them, Judas, could reach a point after three years with Jesus that he betrays Christ is astounding, but this is more astounding to me: after three years, not one of the Twelve are certain that they would not betray Him.
Every last one of them, apparently, wonders at their own faithfulness. With good reason, too, for before the night is out they have each abandoned Jesus to face trials alone. Surely John and Peter are there to see what happens, but they do not attend His trials to stop the injustice, just to observe from a distance.
Even having witnessed everything they’ve seen: the storms stilled, the deaf hearing, the blind seeing, and the dead living, the faith of the Twelve at the time is shaky. They know their own hearts better than anyone but Jesus, and they know what they could do. They fear what they could do.
The Lord Jesus does not really give them any reassurance, either, for He tells them that the one who is dipping his hand in the dish with Him is His betrayer. Guess what? It’s a common plate, no utensil meal. Anybody close by has been doing that, so it does not reveal anything. John even admits that when Judas leaves, the disciples don’t realize that he has gone to the priests to betray Jesus.
Instead, Jesus gives them something better than reassurance. He gives them something better than a pat on the head and a soothing, “No, Simon the Zealot, it’s not you, you’re cool” or “Phillip, man, everything with you is groovy.” He takes up teaching them of life in the New Covenant, of love for one another and love for Him.
And He gives them two things to do for remembrance. He takes the unleavened bread and speaks of the destruction of His body, He takes the cup and speaks of His blood and the New Covenant.Paul tells us later that this was to be done in remembrance of Him.
The men who came to dinner that night were not worthy of the One they ate with. They admit by their own doubts that they are not faithful to the last–they cannot even trust themselves not to betray Christ, much less to stand beside Him. They have seen and done, but still they waver.
Are we so different? We see and do, we read and remember, but we still waver. We have our days that we could betray the Son of Man for silver or for a nice, warm bed. We have our days that we will run away from the confrontations that our faith brings in front of us.
What do we do?
Come back to this moment: that His body and His blood are enough. They were enough for the men who came to dinner, with their faults and failings, and they are enough for us. They are enough for all who will come. So, shall we go out and invite a few more to the table? There’s grace enough for the next person after you, no matter how much you need.
Good reminder, Doug.
Doug, as I read what you said about the “common” cup and “utensil”, I think that it is symbolic that they each betray Jesus in their own way. Just as we do every day in ways we sometimes fail to recognize ourselves.
I think of the other 11 disciples and how Peter (denied) betraying the friendship and relationship with his master, three times before the cock crowed. I think of the other 10 who scattered and ran for their lives. Jesus tells us that we must deny ourselves and pick up our cross daily to follow Him. And yet, we scatter. We shiver. We do not take a stand when stands are all we can take to manifest the boldness and power in Him. We sit and we cower and we pretend we are not part of Him to win the approval of servant girls in the dark of night. They all betrayed Him. We each betray Him. Yet, He loves us because He is God…and God is love.
And that night Jesus gave us all a way to remember His love for us, and what He did for us. What a glory in Him to have provided such a remembrance when we are all caught up in what the world will do to us, what man does to us. We may face rejection, false accusations as He that night before the Sanhedrin and later Pilate. But we, do not get the punishment for our betrayal. We receive forgiveness. Our sins are paid for. And Jesus takes them with Him beyond the grave. Then He says, eat with me Peter, feed my sheep. And we do. and sometimes we forget how much He means to us and how much He loves us. And we fail to love one another as He loves us. And yet…even then…each morning he gives us new mercies. Glory, glory, glory to the King. Thanks for this post, Doug. It may not have received much recognition in light of other posts. But this is the reason, the very reason our voices are necessary today.
We forget how much He is. We get caught up in ignoble things of earth. We fail to seek the face of God and we wonder…we rebuke those who do not spend time contemplating His sacrifice. His agony. We fall asleep when He tells us to wait, watch and pray. May God open our eyes today and through this week to remember…that what we do is in remembrance of Him. God’s grace be yours…may His spirit be made manifest in miraculous and unexpected ways for you this weekend. selahV
Not so much trying to raise and argue the day as to note that the reason the day gets argued is the sign of Jonah or three days in the tomb. For western sensibilities, burial on Friday and resurrection on Sunday doesn’t sound like three.
I liked the blog, Doug, if for no other reason than because when you write you do a good job of using details to drain unuseful emotion and distracting subjectivity from your presentation. You emphasize what we actually know v. what we speculate about. And that comes across as a better form of scholasticism with respect to the text of the Bible.
For some reason, and I can’t really pin it on anything specific, Jesus walking with the two men on the road to Emmaus reverberates with both the upper room meal AND the passover. Probably because the passover is fulfilled starting with the Palm Sunday events but explained–speculation on my part–first to the two men.
It’s actually an argument that’s worth having. The more I read, the more I question whether Good Friday should be, perhaps Good Thursday and so on…and we serve no one by holding dogmatically to a tradition that the text does not demand.
So, we really have an expectation that if Jesus spoke that Jonah’s days were literally 72 hours and then said He would do the same, we need to figure that one out. Parts of Scripture are symbolic, parts are concrete, and it does us no credit to apply the “if I want it to mean this, then I call it symbolic” system. Study with the Spirit is the way to sort that out.
What I wanted not to do was too much of that argument this week. It’s like the “When was Christmas, really?” argument: can we have those in June or something? Let the devotional thoughts rule this week and then hash it out.
Thanks for the encouragement about my writing. It’s a win for me to write what I feel is good and have someone else like it.
I like the story on the Emmaus road. The image of the two who seem to have just given up: well, we heard this, but who knows? And, well, you know, we’ve got stuff to do…
How much that stuff melts in the presence of Christ!
One of the things that impresses me is how absolutely inept the disciples were. No leader would rely on guys like this to spearhead a movement.
The power is in Christ, not the abilities of the disciples.
Dave, please don’t take this wrong (I know, that’s a red flag), but I do really mean it in a congenial spirit, but do you think that sometimes we in this period might be a little bit tough on the disciples?
I admit, one can point to some great failures (Peter’s denial for example), but I think you could also find many absolutely courageous and bold virtues also. Like, immediately leaving everything behind to follow Jesus.
I don’t think you meant it this way, but your statement could be interpreted (or misinterpreted) to say, “Jesus intentionally choose a bunch of losers to make it clear that He was the real power.”
I don’t think that was the case at all. I think Jesus choose men (and choses men and women today) who He knows will be absolutely successful.
Again, I am agreeing with your point that I think is well made, but expanding the thought for consideration of even deeper principles.
Have a Great Resurrection Day!
I’m not claiming I’d have done any better, but the disciples were not an impressive lot.
I think there is a great point there. It is not about the disciples and their abilities, but Christ and his.
The disciples (prior to Pentecost) are actually a great example of Paul’s teaching in 1 Corinthians 1 that not many wise or influential people were called so that no man could boast before God.
Perhaps it could be a matter of “half empty or half full.” Certainly, if the disciples then were nothing to “write home about,” then it seems there has been little improvement over the centuries.
The church has never experienced the growth it did in the apostolic period. Therefore, accepting your theory–as I do–that should be great encouragement for us as His disciples today.
There is no where to go but up!
Dave, please don’t take this wrong (I know, that’s a red flag), but I do really mean it in a congenial spirit, but do you think that sometimes we in this period might be a little bit tough on the disciples?
I admit, one can point to some great failures (Peter’s denial for example), but I think you could also find many absolutely courageous and bold virtues also. Like, immediately leaving everything behind to follow Jesus.
I don’t think you meant it this way, but your statement could be interpreted (or misinterpreted) to say, “Jesus intentionally choose a bunch of losers to make it clear that He was the real power.”
I don’t think that was the case at all. I think Jesus choose men (and choses men and women today) who He knows will be absolutely successful.
Again, I am agreeing with your point that I think is well made, but expanding the thought for consideration of even deeper principles.
Have a Great Resurrection Day!
switch “choose and choses” above so that I don’t look like a complete idiot.