Jesus Feeds the Faithless
Maundy Thursday – April 5, 2012
Many of you know J.R.R. Tolkien's trilogy, The Lord of the Rings, from the books or the movies. In these stories, we hear the saga of Middle Earth, centering around Frodo Baggins and his companions. Caught in the darkening power of evil forces at work in their land, Frodo and his Fellowship are called to set out on a quest: to return the One Ring to the land from which it came, to destroy the ring in the fires of Mordor that forged it, to set their land free. If you know these books or the movies that were made from them at all, you know that there are 3 books worth of dangers and adventures, that they experience fear and fighting and failures along the way.
Of course, they also have help from their allies – it is the only way that they will have any hope of achieving their quest. And so it is, before they begin the arduous trek to Mordor that Frodo and the friends who will accompany him take counsel with the Elves and with Gandalf and the other elders and leaders who have thought through this course of action. And before Frodo and the others set out, the Elves give them a gift. It is the gift of Lembas, or waybread in the Common Tongue. A secret closely guarded by the Elves, it is an important and special gift, because though it doesn't look like much, it has special properties. It lasts and lasts without going bad, and is very nutritious and sustaining, not just physically, but spiritually as well. A little bit goes a long way – and time and again, the band of adventurers will turn to this bread when there is little else to carry them through, when they are dejected and fearful and near despair, tempted to give up on their mission.
In tonight's gospel, Jesus gives a similar gift to his followers. This is the night of his betrayal, and Jesus gathers his disciples together in the Upper Room for one last meal. A special meal, not just because it is their last with Jesus, but because it is the Passover celebration, which reminds them of God's powerful act of liberation long ago in Egypt, as God led the people of Israel out of slavery and oppression under Pharaoh. Before they set out, God instituted this meal to feed the ancient Israelites, but it was more than mere food. It was to become for them the sign and symbol of God's ability to save, throughout the generations.
But even in the act of that liberation, the faith of the Israelites is challenged. They're on their way out of Egypt, but find themselves stopped dead in front of the Red Sea. They turn to look behind them, only to see Pharaoh's armies fast approaching. It looks hopeless. No way out. How can God possibly intervene? Better to have stayed in slavery in Egypt, they cry out to Moses, than to die out here!
In the gospel, we see a similar story playing out. The faith of the disciples about to be tested. Even though salvation is around the corner, the coming of God's promised reign very near, at hand – before the disciples can realize and take hold of it, they are stopped short. They come face to face with Good Friday and the cross, and there seems no way forward, no way out. As we will hear tomorrow in the Passion story, their faith in Jesus and in God's ability to save is pushed beyond its limit when the chief priests, scribes and elders come to arrest Jesus in the garden. In the face of what is about to happen, it is hard to see how this can possibly end well, to imagine how God can possibly bring something good out of the terror and shock of this night. So they panic. They flee.
Sometimes we find our own faith tested, strained to the breaking point. Despite God's promise of salvation, no matter how many stories we read in the Bible that tell of how God acts, intervening sometimes just in the nick of time to bring hope and promise, it can be hard when we're in the middle of a bad situation to see how God will act. When we are caught between a rock and a hard place, between an advancing army and threatening sea, it can be next to impossible to see how God will make a way out of no way, how God can possibly act in a way that will bring deliverance out of our desperation and despair.
And so on this night, Jesus institutes a new meal, which like Passover, will live on throughout the generations, becoming a reminder for us of God's powerful act of liberation in Jesus; more than a reminder, really – more of a lived experience that reveals God's power at work in our lives. This meal Jesus shares with his first followers and with us who follow him today is an amazing gift. Because much as the Elves knew the Fellowship of the Ring faced impossibly difficult times ahead, Jesus knows what lies ahead later on this evening. He's told them more than once that when he goes to Jerusalem, it will be to die. At the beginning of this gospel, he says that the woman who breaks open the jar of ointment and pours it on his head has anointed him beforehand for his burial. As they sit around this table and share this final meal together, Jesus knows how they will respond. He predicts that one of them, one of his closest followers, will betray him. Tomorrow, we will hear him say that all will desert him, that Peter will deny him. None will stand by his side, and they will be dejected and despondent and disappointed, not just in his death, but in themselves, in their failure to follow him to the end. He knows, not only the trouble he will face as he goes to his death, but the trials they will face, not just on Good Friday and Holy Saturday, but in the days that follow Easter as they seek to share the amazing unbelievably good news with the whole world. He knows, and he has compassion for them, this fickle, faithless fellowship – and so he feeds them. He takes common, ordinary bread, which like the Elves' Lembas doesn't look very special or powerful – and he blesses it and breaks it and gives it to them. “This is my body.' He gives thanks for a simple cup of wine and passes it for all to drink. “This is my blood. For you.” A simple meal, but one that will strengthen and sustain them for the days to come. It will renew and fortify their faith for the road that lies ahead of them. On the days when darkness is all around and everything seems hopeless, and they are tempted to give up on the mission Christ has entrusted to them, they can take this bread and drink from this cup and be reminded of God's saving power, experience again God's redeeming love that brings light out of darkness, hope out of despair, life out of death. They will turn to this meal again and again, experiencing Jesus present with them, his very life offered up for them, and then go again to share this good news with the world.
So it is with us. In our dark, troubled, and often troubling world, it can be hard to believe that God is still in control, that God is always at work to redeem and restore all of creation, even us! It can be hard to trust that God can bring us out to the other side of trouble. But we come to this meal, hands outstretched to receive what Jesus offers – bread and wine, his body and blood, given and shed for us, giving us courage and strength for each new day, empowering us not to lose hope, not to abandon Christ's mission for us, even as we wait and watch to see how God in Christ always acts to save.
Come. Eat. Drink. Let Jesus feed you with himself, and then go, share the good news with the world.
Amen.
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