Loading...Tonight is about stripping. But it’s no tease. Tonight is called Maundy Thursday because it’s the night we remember the mandate Jesus gives anyone who wants to be his disciple: Love one another as I have loved you. And what that love looks like is loss. You might be wishing I would talk more about stripping right now.
Stripping can be a giggle-inducing word, or not.
Tonight I’m talking about the sacrament of stripping. The role of stripping in the salvation story all starts with the Exodus story. The Hebrews are stripped of slavery. The Egyptians are stripped of their first born.
It’s in the context of Exodus that the salvation story includes the first supper. During supper Jesus strips off his outer robe and the disciples strip off their footwear. Maybe it was sandals — that’s how all the pictures paint it. I wonder if Jesus got the original idea from Mary six days before when he and the disciples were having dinner at Martha’s house with the resurrected Lazarus. Remember when Mary brings in that big expensive jar of nard, pours it on his feet and then wipes his feet with her hair? Jesus says she is preparing him for burial.
The only reason we have the sacrament of bread and wine is because Jesus is stripped of his body and blood.
But first he is stripped of his dignity and his his friendships, then he is stripped of his life. He was stripped from life on earth to take on death in hell. His mother was stripped of her son. His brothers and sisters stripped of their sibling. The disciples stripped of their master and friend. The chief priests and scribes stripped of the distraction to their hopes and dreams.
What’s so weird about the love/loss ratio when you experience stripping is how grateful and how humble it can make you feel. If anyone here has fasted from something whether it’s coffee or cussing you know what I’m talking about.
If you have ever lost your hair you know what I am talking about. If you have ever been stripped and laid on a hospital gurney you know what I’m talking about. If you have ever had to face the darkest hour of night without a friend you know what I am talking about - you know the power and mysterious miracle of being stripped.
After tonight we move forward with the story. The sanctuary will be decorated with the lilies that are already waiting in the ante room. A lamb is coming to the 10:30 Easter service. For now, take a mental snapshot of the naked altar if you can. In moments when it feels like the world can see right through you remember it’s empty uselessness.
And remember these words from Henri Nouwen. He uses the word poverty instead of stipped or naked. Poverty is a much less giggly word and sounds more reverent, doesn’t it? One of his meditations from Bread for the Journey succinctly conveys what the stripping in the salvation story means for the way we live together in community. He writes:
Coming Together in Poverty: There are many forms of poverty: economic poverty, physical poverty, emotional poverty, mental poverty, and spiritual poverty. As long as we relate primarily to one another’s wealth, health, stability, intelligence, and strength, we cannot develop true community. Community is not a talent show in which we dazzle the world with our combined gifts. Community is the place where our poverty is acknowledge and accepted, not as something we have to learn to cope with as best as we can but as a true source of new life. Living in community in whatever form — family, parish, twelve-step program, or intentional community —challenges us to come together at the place of our poverty, believing that ether we can can reveal our richness.
Time to strip your socks!
