03-28-24 Worth Remembering - Maundy Thursday

Thomas J Parlette
“Worth Remembering”
John13: 1-17, 31b-35
3/28/24, Maundy Thursday
          Philosophers and anthropologists have long debated over what makes human beings different from other creatures. It isn’t our ability to build our own shelter – birds and beavers both build their own houses. It isn’t over use of tools either – many animals use tools. Even a simple seagull can employ a rock to open a shell. We aren’t different because we organize ourselves into societies. Ants have an elaborate social structure, including “hospitals for their sick, and “nurseries” for their young. Nor is it our use of language that sets us apart. Whales and dolphins have sophisticated language as well. It isn’t even our larger brain. Dolphins actually have bigger brains than ours, in comparison with their bodies.
          There are lots of things that human beings have in common with other creatures. But one thing that sets up apart is the act of remembrance. Human beings are the only creatures I know that both remember and honor their dead. I have seen stories about faithful dogs that won’t leave their owners sides and they have attended their funerals. But when it’s over, it’s over, and even man’s best friend moves on. I’ve also read stories about elephants, coming upon the dead body of another elephant, will stop and touch it with their trunks, and trumpet loudly, as if mourning the loss, sometimes for hours. But then they move on.
          Only human beings erect mausoleums and tombstones to keep the memory of a loved one alive. We are the only species who endow colleges, hospitals, libraries, parks and scholarships in a loved one’s name. Remembrance seems to be one of the things that is truly unique to human beings.
          We don’t want to forget our loved ones. And we ourselves don’t want to be forgotten either. In a cemetery in Hiawatha, Kansas, there is a strange tribute to one man’s desire to be remembered. John M. Davis was a wealthy but eccentric local farmer. His wife had died decades before him, in 1930. Soon after her death, Davis began commissioning a series of statues, using Kansas granite and later, Italian marble. The statues depicted important scenes in Davis’ life.
          The Davis memorial is large, impressive and expensive – but it draws a lot of visitors to Hiawatha, Kansas. Davis sought to be remembered – and he is, as a bit of a curious man, maybe even an oddball. But he is remembered.
          Human beings remember. We all want to be remembered. What did Jesus ask for us as remembrance? Jesus wrote no books. He established no organization. He chose no clear successor. He built no memorials.
          No, the way Jesus wanted to be remembered was through a simple act. On the night before he died, he gathered his twelve closest followers together in what I imagine was a smoky, dimly lit room, a floor or so above the busy streets outside. Those gathered were mostly poor, mostly uneducated, mostly unsophisticated and usually unreliable individuals. One of them was a betrayer and one of them was a denier and all of them would abandon Jesus in the end. But Jesus knew all this already. Still, he entrusted his life’s work and his memory to them, in the simple act of communion.
          “This is my body broken for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”
This cup is the new covenant, sealed by my blood. Drink this in remembrance of me.”
          No building, no books, no structure, no successor. Just bread and wine. Doesn’t seem like much, does it? Yet, some 2000 years later, we still do this in remembrance of him.
          Tonight, as we receive communion, let us remember Jesus.
Let us remember the character of his life.
Let us remember his prayerfulness, how he got up early and stayed up late, to pray to God.
Let’s remember his gentleness, how he called little children to himself.
Let us remember his joy and enthusiasm for life that was infectious.
Let’s remember how he resisted temptation and never gave in to sin.
Let us remember his concern for the sick, the needy and the forgotten
Let us remember how he spoke for what he believed.
Let’s remember his courage in the face of death.
Let’s remember how, when he was dying, he prayed for his enemies.
Let us remember how he was obedient to God, even though it meant suffering and death.
          When we share the bread and the cup, as he asked us to, and remember, we are remembering the purest, best and most remarkable human being that ever lived. Let us remember Jesus’ life.
          Let us also remember he willingly gave up his life for our sake. In Norway there is a small church known as The Church of the Lamb. Its steeple is topped, not with a cross, but with a wooden carving of a lamb. Not an uncommon symbol for Jesus – but that’s not why is lamb is on their steeple. It seems that as the church was being built, a crew of workers was up on the roof. One man lost his footing and slipped off the roof.
          He might have been killed, except at that precise moment a flock of sheep were being driven past the church. This unfortunate workman, fell on top of one of the sheep, which broke his fall and saved his life. But the sheep was killed. Later when the church was completed, the congregation put a carving of a sheep up on the steeple – to be reminded of the animal itself, but also Jesus, known as the lamb of God.
          Jesus, not accidentally, but knowingly and willingly gave up his life for us all. This evening, as we receive the bread and cup, let us remember Jesus sacrificial death. But most of all, let us remember, sense, experience, and be guided by his continued presence with, in this supper shared in memory of him.
          That, my friends, is something worth remembering.
          May God be praised. Amen.