it's a secret society / all we ask is trust

all we got it us

Before the betrayal and the arrest. Before the horror of the cross. Before the emptiest sabbath. Before that morning no one anticipated. 

Before any of it, Jesus gathered together the twelve who had stuck with him through thick and thin. Over a meal he had been longing to have with them for some time, Jesus gives the twelve one last Word.

Thickheaded though they could be, they knew these words Jesus was leaving them with mattered. 

Yes; like you, they would be shocked by the sheer terror of the cross. And yes, like you, they would be utterly astounded by the tomb that morning. But make no mistake, even they could sense that night was the quiet before it all went down. 

So they, like you are right now, payed attention to what Jesus said as if everything else depended on it…

And it does… 

Make no mistake, Jesus’ last word is no mere piece of advice. It is no warm sentiment, either. In fact, when you consider what’s about to happen, these last words frankly sound foolish. Foolish.

Jesus tells them all, including Judas who will betray him, to serve one another. Jesus tells them all, who will flee from him in his darkest hour, to love one another.

On this moment before everything comes colliding together, this is what Jesus says. To serve one another. That’s it! To serve one another!

No tips for surviving the storm. No suggestions to get through the tough times. 

Just this surprising last word from Jesus for folks like us…

Now, the most frustrating thing about the church has to be that Jesus uses none other than the likes of us to keep it going. Us who are no worse, but certainly no better either, than the disciples. 

Us, who also have betrayed one another. Haven’t we?

Us, who have also fled from one another when we needed each other most…

Jesus calls none other than the likes of us to be his church. To continue his mission.

And then, instead of giving us a list of demands on this night. Instead of some to-do list to measure ourselves against, he just tells us to love one another. Serve each other.

On this last night, Jesus doubles-down on the weak material he been building the church on! 

Jesus chooses none other than one another to build, to be his church. And on this last night, all he tells us is to love each other, to serve each other. To care for what he’s chosen for his church. The person sitting right next to you; in all their brokenness. 

The bond of love between us is all we have. And Jesus tells us to hold one another with the loves that holds it all together…

…Beloved, Jesus gives us no other instruction on how to run the church.
It is as if we will exist by love, or not at all. That the church will run only so long as we serve one another.

But please don’t get all sentimental now. Not tonight of all nights. Okay?

First of all, because you know how hard this last word is. It’s showing up when no one else does. It’s sticking around tonight to pray when everyone else leaves. 

Secondly, because Jesus’ last word tonight is just as frustrating as the rest of ‘em. 

Honestly, it isn’t east to have to rely on one another, is it? We all want to be self-sufficient. What’s more, we never imagine serving the church with the mundane tasks of loving one another. 

But that is all Jesus leaves us with tonight. Nothing else…

Before tonight is over, we have to do two more things to do:

First, while we sing, each and every one of us will be invited to come forward to have their feet washed. And the unlucky last person, will have to wash their pastor’s feet. 

Second, before we go home in silence, the 22nd Psalm will be chanted as the altar is stripped. 

Tonight we will leave this place worse than when we came. We will leave this place as it is stripped of all it’s holy vestments. And that’s already happened at Faith.

Tonight we will go home with nothing except what we’re about to share; Love. Love that dares to do something like love one another. The love Jesus gives us.

No influx to the budget. No names for the rolls. 

Just love that looks more like a butler, than the plot of a star-studded romance movie. 

Tonight, before it all goes down. Before the cross where all our excuses sound hollow. Before the tomb when all our expectations are upended; Jesus tells us to love one another. Serve one another. 

And tonight the Church tells us how to do that. In a couple of intimate, not a little awkward, routines. Something you do daily, eating and cleaning.

You who I love. You who love me. You who I have stood behind. You who have stood behind me, all we have is the love Jesus has given us. Love that’s revealed in serving one another.

When the chips are down or plaster chips. When the budget’s tight and the docket’s full. When everything else is gone, this is all we will have:
What Jesus leaves us with tonight: One another and the love he’s given us. 

But it seems all too fragile, doesn’t it?

If Jesus is to be believed, though; and he is, this is the only thing that will not fail us.

This is what it means to belong to Jesus. To be shaped so deeply by his love, that it turns out to be the only thing we have. All we have to give one another or the world. Our only strategy for the days ahead. 

To love one another with the love Jesus has loved us with.

No survival strategy. No backup plan. No money in the reserves. Just love. Real love. Love that dares to do something like serve one another. 

It’s about to go down. It’s nearly time to find out what’s really enduring. What will actually last. Soon we’re going to find out what happens when everything else fails. 

Jesus tells us to love one another. And the church tells us how to; before we share a meal, let’s sing, pray and wash up.

Here we go…