PART THREE: TABLE TALK (MAUNDY THURSDAY)

Jesus knows what’s next.
You can only live in freedom
For so long until the
Empire strikes back.
One’s dependence on God
Ruffles the feathers of earthly lords.
The patron client system only works
If clients choose to seek what patrons offer.
What peace can your master not provide?
What world can you imagine in which he does not rule?
Yes, sure, the arc of the moral universe
May be long, and it may bend toward justice,
But Caesar likes long, straight, lines.
Caesar’s horizon is predictable:
No surprises. No revisions. No exceptions.
Jesus knows there will be an arrest.
He knows there will be a trial.
He knows what the verdict will be.
No matter. He will do what God requires.

It’s not like he’s been subtle;
Jesus has told the disciples that Jerusalem
Will reveal pain, and even death,
For him, and them, and all who choose to follow.
Of course, he also tells about a future beyond such trauma:
God’s kinship, God’s realm, bursting into the present
As folk find banquet and abundance in community.

Tonight, on Passover, before the height of the drama,
He gathers the disciples, faithful men
And women, too (named or not, they were there!)
For one last meal (or first depending on your perspective).
Did we mention these dinner guests
Were humanly-faithful?
They loved Jesus, they really did.
But Rome’s a scary and persuasive enemy.
Some will abandon him; some will betray him;
Some will deny they know him; Some will
Just try to stay safe, their anxiety trumping their courage.
Jesus know this; He is not deterred.

He gathers his friends together.
He tells them that he loves them.
All of them, the good parts, the not-so-good parts,
The in-between parts, too.
‘Cause friends love whole people,
They know that relationships are
Strong enough to withstand woundedness,
And transform into a resilient love.
“I’m giving you all of me,” Jesus says.
“I’m meeting you as neighbor, human being,
Friend, breadmate; We’re gathering,
At one table, to receive and share our common bread.”

Two thousand years later,
We have a tendency to focus
On the betrayal, the abandonment,
The shortcomings of the disciples at the table;
Too often we dismiss our own abandonment and betrayal
Of the One we claim to follow.
How often does our need for convenience
Trump our need to live out our convictions?
How often do we wound one another
(sometimes intentionally, sometimes unintentionally)?
How often do we seek to elevate our seat at the table?

Jesus could have been a mathematician,
Or at least an expert in common denominators;
How great it is to share one distinct commonality:
We are all children of God.
And such a commonality, bids access,
Bids welcome, bids enoughness at Christ’s table.
Then. Now. And anytime we gather.

Jesus offers the bread of life – his whole self,
A representation of the One who gives his heart to us;
Jesus offers the cup of salvation, filled with spirted wine,
A representation that his spirit, his love of God, his zest for abundance,
Lives on in each of us.

So we break the bread, or the gluten free wafer, or the PB&J, or
Whatever meal gives strength;
And we pour the wine, or the Welch’s grape juice, or a Capri-Sun, or
Whatever drink we’ve got;
And we gather, in any configuration greater than one,
And Jesus joins us there; Jesus welcomes us there;
Jesus reminds us that we’re loved, that we’re enough,
That we’re part of something bigger; that we’re always welcome,
That we’ve got all of God’s potential, no matter who we are.
He says, “Remember.” And we do.

When the meal is over, they leave the upper room.
As the leave, they sing the hymn.
One last chant of togetherness,
Before the seeds are scattered
In a Garden called Gethsemane.

But just as Jesus had to go through Friday
To get to Sunday, so must we.
Our journey’s a parabola.
Friday’s gonna be dark, and Saturday, too.
But the light shines in the darkness,
And the darkness will not overcome it.
Sunday’s coming!!!
Remember that, when the cheers die down,
When the palm branches wither and turn brown,
When the gathered scatter,
When the faithful weep,
When hope seems lost,
We’re gonna climb the hill, y’all!!!
Sunday’s coming!!!
Hosanna, sing loud hosannas