If you knew you had less than 24 hours to live, what would you do?
I once posed a question to my Newman Center Community on Facebook: “If you knew you had less than a day to live, what would you do with your time?” One student said they’d go to confession and get anointed – sort of all greased up and ready for judgment. And then in a separate post she added: “Oh yeah, I would call in sick to work.” Wise woman! Another said: “I’d go skydiving – it is an item still on my bucket list. And then write my Will.” (I’m thinking I’d do that the other way around) Still another said they would go to White Castles and get a crave case, and then watch “the Losers” one last time. And would probably skip his afternoon nap! Another said they would kick back, have dinner with the family, and enjoy their mom’s eggplant Parmesan.” What would you do if you knew you had less than a day to live?
Though I suspect our answers might be different in some ways, I believe the driving force behind our choices would be mightily similar. We would somehow want to do ONLY the things that matter, only the things that are truly important to us either in this world or in preparation for the world to come. Whether that be to cross things off of our bucket list, or to prepare for entry into the kingdom of heaven, or some combination of the two – somehow, we would want those last moments to define who we are and what matters to us.
Jesus may not have known with absolute surety on that Thursday morning, that Friday was going to be his last day on earth, but I suspect he had a good idea his days were numbered. Judas was disappearing for unexplained periods of time; sulking, looking guilty – UP TO SOMETHING! The Pharisees and Scribes challenging him at every opportunity. It seems like everyone was gunning for him in some way or another.
So what does Jesus do in his last 20 hours on the planet? Knowing he has so little time to ‘sum things up’, to write his will, to complete his bucket list – he does two common things, two practices to inbed themselves in the collective memory of the disciples.
The first was simple. In the course of a meal that they were sharing, he said: “Do this in memory of me.” Do this gathering, this coming together around the table in my name. However, it was not just any meal he shared – but the PASSOVER – the meal that celebrated God’s saving actions in Israel. And to make sure that they would get it, that they would remember him, he CHANGED the prayers around the Passover. It was the most hallowed of all Jewish traditions, and Jesus was changing even that.
This is MY body, MY blood, broken and poured out FOR YOU. As often as you do this, do it in memory of me. Jesus was telling his disciples: As often as you do “this” – not just the “eating part’, but the saving from bondage, the setting free from sin and oppression, the restoring to people their dignity as humans – as often as you participate in the ongoing work of God to free his people, you are about what I am about, and you do this in memory of me…
And to make sure they made the connection, because the disciples were rather thick headed, he did the second thing. He washed feet. This is the other ‘thing’ he wanted to be remembered for – a simple act of service. When you entered a house – there’d usually be a basin and some towels and you’d ‘wash’ your own feet. Or if wealthy, you’d have a servant do it. Whether that happened when they first entered, we don’t know. But John records that in the middle of the meal, he washed their feet. Though it would take the disciples a little while to recover from the tragedy of the cross, they would remember. They’d make the connection that service is about the simple things, the doable things. What Jesus wanted to be remembered for is that it was not about him. Nor was it about THEM. It was about what happened between them.
It was all about the love which they bore to one another. It was all about the acts of service that take their glory and their power from their simplicity and repetition. In the doing of the dishes that someone else left on the sink, you wash their feet in loving kindness. In asking of the roommate/spouse/best friend how their day was when yours has been so full and busy and difficult, you wash their feet in tender service. In making the choice to listen to someone’s story, you wash their feet in compassionate care. “DO you understand what I have done for you?” Then go and do the same. Go and do the same.
That is why we gather tonight – to do the two things that Jesus asked to be remembered by – our communion and our service. In a few minutes you will have the chance to enter into the service part of that remembrance – the washing of the feet.
The good news – hopefully – is that we all have more than 24 hours to live. AND, we can still live in the awareness of doing only the things that really matter, to us, and to our Savior. <<Gesture to the altar>> Dinner, anyone? <<Gesture to the foot washing station>> Towel anyone?