Maundy
Thursday
April
18, 2019
What shall I return to the Lord
for all his bounty to me?
I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord,
I will pay my vows to the Lord in the presence of all his people.
I will offer to you a thanksgiving sacrifice and call on the name of the Lord.
I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord,
I will pay my vows to the Lord in the presence of all his people.
I will offer to you a thanksgiving sacrifice and call on the name of the Lord.
If we are awake, we might have
noticed a circular motion to all of life. Something comes to us, and we give it
back in return.
It is true of the science of love.
Someone loves us, and if that love is truly received, we offer love back to
them. First received, then given.
This is the lesson from the 7th
grade science class. The rain falls from heaven, then trickles into the
streams, into the rivers, down into the oceans, and then evaporates up to heaven. The
gifts of God move from heaven to earth, back to heaven, and back to
Earth.
In the churches, any astute and
wise finance committee will speak of this movement when they invite our
stewardship. Then they lead us in singing, “We give thee but thine own,
whatever the gift may be. For all we have is thine alone, a
trust, O Lord, from thee.”
Do you hear how it moves? From
heaven to earth, back to heaven, back down to earth, and then returned
again to heaven.
That is how a doxology works when the
saints of earth are in consonant agreement with the angels of heaven. At
Christmas, Luke says the angels sing of peace on earth (2:14). If we heard Luke’s
story of Palm Sunday this week, we heard the people lining the streets,
watching for Jesus, and singing of peace in heaven (19:38). The angels of heaven
sing of peace on earth, and, in turn, earth sings of peace in heaven.
There is a reciprocal motion to all that
is holy and true. So it is no surprise that our psalm sings of this movement.
This is a Passover psalm, put into the air by the faithful as they break the bread
of affliction and pour out the wine of redemption. The people remember how God
has saved us from slavery and death, so they offer their thanks to God.
Some years ago, a friend pointed out
what I was too clueless to notice in Greek class. The big word is “charis,” which
means grace, that disposition of God’s heart that is generous, merciful, and full
of effusive, saving love. When grace is received, charis becomes charisma, “gift.”
When we respond to the gift, it is with thanks, or “eucharist.” Charis, grace.
Charisma, gift. Eucharist, thanks. It’s essentially the same word.
It’s so effusive, in fact, that “the
word may actually refer to a favor shown or a favor received… grace may define
an act of giving or an act of receiving. The same term represents both sides of
the act.”[1]
So
the Passover psalm asks, “What shall I offer to the Lord for all his bounty to
me?” The answers are three:
·
(1)
I
will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord.
This is an offering of a thankful heart, raising a glass to God who rescues us.
·
(2)
I
will offer to you a thanksgiving sacrifice and call on the name of the Lord.
Technically, this is the offering of the Passover lamb, or the unblemished offering
of a deep gift in celebration for what God has done.
·
(3)
I
will pay my vows to the Lord in the presence of all his people. That
is, I will honor the commitments I have made as an act of integrity, in
response to what God has first done for me.
In
each case, it’s something we are invited to do, because God has already acted
on our behalf. And these responses are living reminders that the lives we have
been given are to be offered to God as an act of gratitude.
This
is the underlying theme whenever we worship. I followed my friend Bob into a
confirmation class one time. He had a big beach ball and split the group into
two. “My side will represent God,” he said, “and that side represents the
people.” He tossed the ball to the other side and said, “God calls the people
to worship.” They hit it back and he replied, “The people sing a hymn to God.”
He
tossed the ball again and said, “God calls the people to repent and come back
to him.” They tossed it back, and he said, “The people pray the prayer of
confession.” One more time, he tossed it to them and said, “God assures the
people they are forgiven.” They tossed it back and he said, “The people respond
by singing and passing the peace.” And that is how he taught about worship: it’s
a continuing call and response, a recurring conversation between a generous God
and a grateful people.
“What
shall I offer to the Lord for all his bounty to me?” To us? For the faithful
Jews, it is keeping Passover. It is the perpetual memory of how God won their
freedom out of much pain and suffering. They break the unleavened bread of matzah,
raise the cup of salvation, and declare their thanks by vowing to live with justice.
And
then, on this night which is different from all other nights, Jesus gathered
his adopted family of twelve new brothers, each on behalf of the twelve tribes
of Israel. He broke the bread, which they called the bread of affliction, and said,
“This is my body broken for you.” Then he lifted the cup of salvation and
declared that, through his blood, all sins will be canceled and forgiven. That’s
what we remember and what we still hope.
Tonight we worship in the shadows,
remembering how our feet have been scrubbed in Christ’s grace, how our wavering
commitment to Jesus has been anticipated, and how our continuing reception of
Christ’s body and blood will express our gratitude for what God has done when
we can’t do it for ourselves.
No doubt, as we hear the story
again, the shadows will conspire, suspicions may give way to fear, and love will
be at risk of becoming a casualty. Some will approach Jesus with torches and
clubs. Others will speak curses and condemnations. One of those closest to
Jesus will swing a sword in violence. All indications are that this could be a
moment when love will be crucified by hate; yet we know it is Jesus who will be
crucified, not love.
For behind whatever else unfolds
this night, there is the love of God, a love so great that it gave Jesus as a
gift to the whole world. Should the world reject this Christ, God will give him
back to us again. We know why: love is patient, love is kind. It does not
insist on its own way, nor does it rejoice in wrongdoing. Love waits us out. Love
never ends.
So tonight, the bread and cup are
offered to us once again, out of God’s persistent love. We take them,
regardless of whether or not we think we are sufficiently worthy, because these
are gifts of God for us. Take some time to savor all of this, all that has been
done by God for you and me. When the time is right, give yourself back to God,
as an expression of the holy love that is at work in you.
(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.
[1] Fred B. Craddock, “Preaching About Giving Thanks: Giving God
Thanks and Praise,” in Preaching In and
Out of Season, Edited by Thomas G. Long and Neely Dixon McCarter. (Louisville:
Westminster John Knox Press, 1990).
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