Sacrificial Love

 Maundy Thursday, April 14, 2022

Church of the Redeemer, Chestnut Hill

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

 

The gospel of John is very different from the other three gospels. As John tells the story, Jesus knew from the very beginning of his life, who he was and what he had to do. He was on a mission to incarnate the love of God; and Jesus served with a spiritual force. He was willing to get down and dirty, fighting sin and evil in the trenches, washing the feet of his disciples, and doing the work of a soldier without resorting to violence. 

John Wesley once wrote, “Beware you be not swallowed up in books. An ounce of love is worth a pound of knowledge.” Or as Ralph Waldo Emerson once warned, “Character is higher than intellect.” Too often we think that our knowledge will increase our power, our control, and our authority, sometimes at the expense of our ethics. Too often we discover moral tragedy amongst our highest achievements. We forget what St. Paul told the Corinthians, that even if we have “prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if we have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, we are nothing.”

In John’s gospel, the disciples knew who Jesus was right from the get go. He was their Lord and their Teacher; and that is “what I am” Jesus said. Jesus was called rabbi; for He knew their scripture story, their religious laws, the history of their prophets, and the commandments of God. He knew God personally, his heavenly Father, intimately. And at his last Supper, Jesus knew that his hour of death was coming, that he had come from God and that he was going back to God. Sadly, Jesus knew that Judas would betray him. 

“I give you a new commandment,” Jesus said, “that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.” And yet, I wonder how he continued to love others, most especially his disciples, in the face of their betrayal and denial. The disciples were like family members, with closest access to Jesus, and yet sometimes they seemed clueless about who He was. They were like secret service members, charged with protecting their leader; and yet they left him alone in his darkest hour.

Jesus knew that Judas was not “clean”; and yet he didn’t try to change his mind or deter his actions. Nor did Jesus attempt to hide in a military bunker or sleep in the soft bed of a fortified palace. He was in the garden of Gethsemane, just outside the city of Jerusalem, and vulnerable to anyone who wanted to do him harm. Not rallying his troops to storm the capital, nor asking his disciples to defend Him with swords, Jesus was found praying. He was preparing for his death. 

Judas knew where the Roman soldiers could find Jesus that night, after the dinner plates had been cleared, and his feet had been washed. And so, in the dark of night, when evil is crouching at the door, and roaring like a lion, Judas led the Roman soldiers to arrest Jesus in the garden. Upon arrival, Judas betrayed his faithful leader with a kiss. The Devil made him do it..

Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote that “Jesus had called and chosen Judas; and that he knew from the very beginning who would betray him. And yet nowhere is there any suggestion that Jesus secretly hated Judas. Quite the contrary, as keeper of the disciples’ purse, Judas even seemed to have been distinguished from among the other disciples.” (end quote) Keeping both his friends and his enemies close, Jesus loved them all to the end. (Meditations on the Cross, pp33-34)

Now if you have had any experience of love at all, you know that betrayal and denial are very much part of our human relationships. They reveal the dark side of human love. Betrayal, like denial, is oftentimes not intentional, perhaps not even conscious; and they usually happen to us by those we trust - like our parents, our spouses, our siblings, and our children. Like our friends, our community members, and business partners. Like our political, law enforcement, and religious leaders. “How can they do that to us?” we cry out in our pain.

Jesus knew who He was and what he had to do. He was on God’s mission of reconciliation and to be an example of love for us all. Which is why, in the gospel of John, Jesus’ last words were, “It is finished.” Jesus knew that Judas played an important role in God’s mission, and that his own mission would not be complete until Judas had fulfilled his own. In the vernacular, Jesus turned to Judas at the Last Supper and said, “You do you.” And then, giving him a piece of the bread, Jesus said, “do quickly what you are to do.” Immediately, Judas left the table.

Sacrificial love can be interpreted in many different ways. Some say that it means to pick up our crosses and carry them, silent as lambs being led to the slaughter. Or, in service to others, like Simon of Cyrene, we can pick up other people’s crosses, and carry their burdens. Sacrificial love means that we endure betrayals and denials, despite the deep hurt that they cause. It means we wash the feet of our friends and foes alike, forgiving others, just like Jesus.

Sacrifice, rooted in the Latin words of sacer and facere, means to make something holy, which is why we remember Jesus every time we celebrate the Eucharist. As often as we eat this bread and drink this cup, we remember Jesus. We remember His broken body and His blood poured out in sacrificial love; and we will keep remembering Him every time we keep the feast. Then, as disciples of Jesus, we can offer our love to others, with simple words and simple acts.

One of my very favorite stories of sacrificial love is about Adam in a piece called “A Soul Shines” by Martha Beck. “I can hear Adam downstairs bellowing at his older sister for taking a can of Coca-Cola away from him. I don’t give Coke to my kids, but I keep a stash of it for a friend of mine. Adam just located my latest hiding place. He had guzzled one can and was on to his second when Katie caught him. After one Coke, we can expect Adam to get totally wired on sugar and caffeine, and spend several soulful hours strumming away on his guitar, singing love songs about his girlfriend, Lonnie.”

“Adam is not some oracular phenomenon. He’s just a kid with boyish enthusiasm for tormenting his sisters, and a voice like one of Billy Goats Gruff. I generally keep quiet about the fact that every now and then, something different shines through Adam’s Down Syndrome child facade. It glints like a light, and can take your breath away.”

“When Adam was three years old, I began to lose hope that he would ever communicate verbally. His inability to speak was terribly frustrating for him, and it just plain broke my heart. I worked with him for hours, doing the exercises the speech therapists had taught me, having no success whatsoever. Sometimes Adam made random sounds that could be force fit into words, but I had to face it: the kid couldn’t talk. Not at all.”

“One day, after hours of unsuccessful therapy, I hit a low point. I took my children to the grocery store, and offered them bribes to keep quiet. I was too tired and discouraged to enforce discipline in any other way. I told them they could pick out a treat from the candy stand. Katie chose a roll of Life Savers, and Lizzie a chocolate bar. Adam, who seemed to understand everything I said, even if he couldn’t talk, went over to a basket of red rosebuds and pulled one out.”

“”’That’s what you want?’ I asked incredulously. He nodded. ‘No honey, this isn’t candy,’ I said, putting it back and turning him toward the row of sweets.’Don’t you want candy?’ Adam shook his small head, walked back to the bucket, picked out the rose, and put it on the counter. I was baffled, but I paid for it. Adam took it gravely, and then as the girls unwrapped their candy, he held the flower with both hands all the way home. When we got there, I was immediately engrossed in putting away the groceries and forgot all about his strange request.”

“The next morning I awoke to find sunlight streaming through my bedroom window. John had already left for the day, and I could hear quiet babbling coming from Lizzie’s room. As I yawned and stretched, I heard Adam’s small feet paddling down the hallway to my bedroom. He appeared at the door with the rose, which he had put in a small crystal bud vase. I looked at him in surprise. I didn’t realize that he knew what vases were for, let alone how to get one down from the cupboard, fill it with water, and then put a flower in it.”

“Adam walked over to my bed and handed the rose to me. As he held it out, he said, in a clear, calm voice, ‘Here.’ (Pause) Then he turned around, his little blue pajamas dragging a bit on the floor, and padded out of the room.” (end quote)

Parent and child, God and Jesus, you and me: sacrificial love. It’s our mission, hard and simple as it is to do.