Maundy Thursday

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9YZyA7pjCEw

Sermon: The Rev. Dr. Maryann Amor

If you have been listening closely to the Gospel readings throughout Lent, you might have noticed a theme.

A few weeks ago, we met Jesus at a well in Samaria. He was thirsty; a woman came to draw water, and Jesus asked her for a drink. Then we encountered a man born blind—Jesus spat in the dirt, made mud, and placed it on the man’s eyes, and he was healed. And then we stood with Mary and Martha at the tomb of their brother Lazarus. He had been dead for days—so long that his body had already begun to decay. Jesus wept, and then called him back to life.

Again and again, these stories draw our attention to something very simple, and very human: the body. We see a thirsty body, a blind body, a dead body.

And in each case, it is the need of the body that becomes the place where Jesus meets people. He is not at a distance; he is not present in abstract theological concepts. He is up close—personal, physical, and real. Jesus asks for water. Jesus touches eyes. Jesus stands before a tomb and calls Lazarus to come out.

Throughout Lent, we have been watching Jesus show us how God does not stay removed from us, but comes close—meeting us in the vulnerability, the need, and the reality of our human bodies. And this brings us to tonight.

On Maundy Thursday, we often focus on washing feet, on humility, on service. But what Jesus does is even more striking than that.

Notice how bodies come into focus again. Jesus kneels. He touches. He takes into his hands the ordinary, tired, dusty bodies of his friends. He physically comes close to them.

And then—on the same night—he takes bread and wine. He says, this is my body, this is my blood, and he gives it to them to eat and to drink.

Tonight, Jesus is drawing us back to the body—to a body that is washed, given, shared, received, offered for other bodies.

And tonight, it goes even further, when Jesus says to those gathered—to us—Do this.

Not just the washing and the meal, but the way of being he has shown us again and again. Do this way of love that is not distant or abstract, but fully embodied… do this love that crosses boundaries… do this love that risks closeness… do this love that is present in physical ways with others.

So tonight, whether we wash hands or feet is not really the point. What matters is that we are willing, even in a small way, to do what Jesus does—to come close to one another.

Because that is not always easy. It asks so much of us… to set aside our distance, our hesitation, our fear, our instinct to stay safe and separate. It asks us to recognize another person—not as an idea, not as “other,” but as a body like our own.

And to meet them there.

So when you come forward tonight, don’t worry about doing it perfectly. Instead, pay attention to the moment: the feel of water, the presence of another person, the simple act of care. And if you want words to say, they don’t need to be complicated. They just need to be true. You might say, “As Christ has come close to me, I come close to you.” Or simply, “You are loved.”

Because in this moment, we are not just remembering what Jesus did to bodies—we are participating with him. We are becoming part of that same love: a love that has been reaching across every boundary, drawing close to every kind of body—broken, tired, vulnerable, struggling, alone—and offering itself, over and over, for the life of the world.

Amen.