This evening's reading is from the Gospel of
John, chapter 13. It was just before the Passover
festival. Jesus knew that the hour had come for
him to leave this world and go to the Father.
Having loved his own who were in the world, he
loved them to the end. The evening meal was in
progress, and the devil had already prompted
Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot, to betray Jesus.
Jesus knew that the Father had put all things
under his power and that he had come from God
and was returning to God. So he got up from the
meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped
a towel around his waist. After that, he poured
water into a basin and began to wash his disciples'
feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped
around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said
to him, Lord, are you going to wash my feet?
Jesus replied, No, said Peter, you shall never
wash my feet. Jesus answered, Then Lord, Simon
Peter replied, Jesus answered, Those who have
had a bath need only to wash their feet. Their
whole body is clean. And you are clean, though
not every one of you. For he knew who was going
to betray him, and that was why he said not everyone
was clean. When he had finished washing their
feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his
place. Do you understand what I have done for
you? He asked them. You call me teacher and Lord,
and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that
I, your Lord and teacher, have washed your feet,
you also should wash one another's feet. I have
set you an example that you should do as I have
done for you. Very truly I tell you, no servant
is greater than his master, nor is a messenger
greater than the one who sent him. Now that you
know these things, you will be blessed if you
do them. When he was gone, Jesus said, Now the
Son of Man is glorified, and God is glorified
in him. If God is glorified in him, God will
glorify the Son in himself and will glorify him
at once. My children, I will be with you only
a little longer. You will look for me, and just
as I told the Jews, so I tell you now, where
I am going, you cannot come. A new command I
give you, love one another. As I have loved you,
so you must love one another. By this, everyone
will know that you are my disciples, if you love
one another. The word of the Lord. Tonight, we
enter into one of the most intimate and significant
moments in the life of Jesus. The Palm Sunday
procession is long done. The crowds that had
gathered in the temple courts and throughout
Jerusalem to see and hear Jesus have now dispersed
as the sun has set and evening falls. The noise
has quieted. Jesus gathers now not with the multitudes,
but with his closest followers. With his friends
and confidants, he prepares to celebrate one
of the key and most significant ceremonies in
their faith. Because this is the night of the
Passover meal. It's a sacred meal for the Jewish
people, a meal that remembers how God delivered
his people from slavery in Egypt. It's a ceremony
about rescue, about freedom, about God acting
to save. Now Jesus and his disciples aren't sitting
at a table like we might imagine, or perhaps
you think of Leonardo da Vinci's painting. They're
actually reclining, close together, leaning in,
feet stretched out behind them. It's a posture
of fellowship, of belonging. But little do his
friends know that this is the start of something
even more important. Because what happens tonight
is the start of events that change everything.
Now here at Trinity, as Rob said, like Christians
around the globe, we'll continue to walk through
Good Friday and Holy Saturday and look to the
glory of the Easter resurrection. But tonight,
I have a special invitation for you. I'd like
you to sit and stay with Jesus at this special
gathering, to watch him, to listen to him, to
join him in love and anticipation. And we have
to remember that this night is not just the introduction
of what will come, but it's a key moment in this
Holy Week. And for us as Christians, it's understanding
the very nature of our faith. Now when you came
in, you may have received a handout. You're welcome
to follow along as we go through today. Let me
introduce an image that might help us understand
this night. Have you ever heard of the idea of
a hinge moment? You know, a hinge is a small
mechanism on a door. It's often hidden, often
unnoticed, and yet everything turns on it, literally.
A hinge sits between two movements. It holds
together what has been and what is about to be
as a door opens. When it moves, a door opens.
And a hinge moment in our lives is like that.
It's a moment that may not seem as dramatic on
the surface, but it can quietly change the direction
of everything that follows. Often it's a moment
that something is ending and something new is
beginning. And often I would say it's also a
moment that asks something of us. A moment of
awareness. A moment of decision. A moment when
we are invited to step into something new. And
I use this image because I actually think that
Maundy Thursday is a hinge moment in Holy Week.
One door is closing. Palm Sunday. Celebration.
Expectation. Hosanna. And thanks to this hinge,
another door is about to open. The passion, the
betrayal, the cross, and the resurrection. And
tonight, Jesus and his disciples, and in a sense,
all of us, stand at that threshold. In front
of us is a choice, a new way of thinking and
being and doing. A moment between what has been
and what is about to unfold. A moment when something
new is being revealed. A new way of seeing, a
new way of living, and a new way of following
Jesus. And you wonder, what are the disciples
thinking about as they prepare to join this intimate
meal with their Savior? Well, if we look to the
story that's set out in the Gospel of Luke, we
learn something surprising. The disciples are
arguing. And not arguing over conflict, but about
which of them is the greatest. Who matters the
most? Who has the highest place in their hierarchy?
I would say that's not just their problem, is
it, if we're with them? That's ours too. I think
we live in a world that constantly tells us that
greatness is about status or influence or recognition,
about being seen. We climb, we compare, we measure
ourselves against others. But as we'll soon see,
the kingdom of God is different. It is in many
ways upside down, where the last are first, where
the least are honored, and where the greatest
serve. Because as this argument engages in this
moment, Jesus shows us just how upside down it
really is. So in the passage that J .P. read,
we hear that Jesus quietly stands. John 13 says,
he rose from supper, he lay aside his outer garments,
and taking a towel, he wrapped it around his
waist. He pours water into a basin, and using
the towel, he begins to wash the disciples' feet.
Now, we're with Jesus in this room tonight, so
we need to feel this. Just recognize this. In
an ancient world, this was not an innocuous gesture.
This was the work of the lowest servant. Dusty
roads plus sandals equals dirty feet. This was
a job that no one wanted. I don't know, imagine
a CEO cleaning the bathrooms, a general polishing
his soldiers' boots, a Michelin -starred chef
in the back scrubbing the pots and pans, a queen
kneeling before her subjects. Here in this upper
room, the Son of God himself kneels on the floor.
The king becomes the servant. And the tomb goes
quiet. Quiet, of course, until Peter speaks up
and says he doesn't understand it. Lord, are
you going to wash my feet? But Jesus continues,
one by one, washing and drying, serving. And
then he says when he finishes, if I then, your
Lord and teacher, have washed your feet, ready
for this? You too should wash one another's feet.
I have set you an example. So tonight I want
to stay with this moment for a little longer
and consider what it means for each of us. Because
as I've reflected on this moment in Jesus' life,
I began to see something. A pattern sort of emerged.
A pattern in how a life of service is formed.
Not just what Jesus does, but what he says and
how his life shapes ours. That pattern, I would
say, can be described in a simple way. One mandate
and four movements that shape a life of service.
Well, let's begin with the mandate. Because you
see, this night is not just symbolic, it's also
instructional. In fact, maybe you don't know,
this is where Maundy Thursday got its name. The
word Maundy comes from the Latin mandatum, which
means command or mandate. And the church over
the centuries has recognized that at the heart
of this night, even though a lot of other things
happen, is a new command from Jesus that becomes
its namesake. Now, before we consider this command,
we should think about what should we do in the
face of this mandate from Jesus. I think we might
want to say it this way. We need to be ready
to answer Jesus' command and his example. Not
just with our words, but with our lives. Well,
what is this command? Well, we heard later in
the same chapter, Jesus builds on his actions
and says, a new commandment I give to you. that
you love one another just as I have loved you,
you are to love one another. This is a powerful
example, powerful words, but I think I want you
to notice something else. Jesus doesn't give
this command in the abstract. He's not speaking
it from a distance. He gives it in the middle
of relationships and friendships and in the middle
of an action with a towel in his hands. with
the dirty water still in the basin, with his
disciples' feet just washed. In other words,
Jesus' command and his example are inseparable.
And what this means for us is that for a follower
of Jesus, service like Jesus is not optional.
It's not an add -on to the Christian life. It's
a core part of the faithful life that he calls
us into. But that starting point, that mandate,
what does that look like? How does that kind
of life actually take shape in us? And this is
where I suggest that we begin to see the next
part of the pattern of what it means to serve.
In the life of Jesus, we can see this. And, of
course, in the teachings of the early church
as well. And I suggest this is where we can see
in Jesus' actions, life, and the words of his
followers that there are four movements, I want
to call them, that shape a life of service. First,
our attitude. Because we see that service begins
in the heart. John later tells us, having loved
his own who are in the world, Jesus loved them
to the end. Everything that follows flows from
that love. Jesus isn't simply performing an act.
He's revealing the heart of God, a heart that
moves toward people, a heart that serves. And
if we are to follow him, it makes sense, doesn't
it, that our lives and our hearts must begin
in the same place. We need to cultivate an attitude
of Christ -like love. I chose the word cultivate
carefully. Because I don't think an attitude
necessarily just appears overnight. It grows.
It's an agricultural term, right? It's like something
that's planted in the soil of our lives, and
it needs to be tended. There are certainly things
that work against it. Maybe the weeds of selfishness,
or the drought of distraction or despair, striving,
busyness. All of these can crowd out a heart
shaped for service. So this is something that
we return to again and again. As a starting point,
we have to allow Jesus to reshape our hearts,
to make us more attentive, more compassionate,
more other -centered. The Apostle Paul gives
us some language for this. We can read these
words from Philippians. Do nothing from selfish
ambition or conceit, but in humility count others
more significant than yourselves. Let each of
you look not to their own interests, but also
to the interests of others. And have this mind
among yourselves, this attitude, which is yours
in Christ Jesus. Because this is the attitude
of Jesus, an attitude shaped by love, an attitude
that begins to see people differently. People
aren't interruptions in this context, but they
are people to be loved and served. And so for
this first movement, maybe the question for us
is this. Am I cultivating my attitude? Where
might God be shaping or reshaping my heart to
care more deeply about others? Well, I suppose
you would say it's not enough to just have a
good attitude. A servant's heart also needs to
learn to notice the moment and be ready to respond.
There's a phrase you might know from a well -known
worship chorus. Open the eyes of my heart. Have
you heard that before? For a long time, I always
thought that was a strange mixed metaphor. How
does my heart have eyes? But I think thinking
through this example of Jesus has helped me understand
it. Because this is what Jesus sees when he comes
into that room. A basin, a towel, and a room
full of dirty, unwashed feet. Things everyone
else overlooked. But Jesus steps in. And so that's
the second movement. We are to live with anticipation.
of God's invitations to serve. We begin to expect
that God is at work around us, that he's placing
moments in front of us, and that he may interrupt
our plans with something even more significant.
Paul reminds us of this in Ephesians, where he
says, For we are his workmanship, created in
Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared
beforehand that we should walk in them. Think
about that. God has already prepared moments,
conversations, encounters, needs. The question
for us isn't whether those needs exist or those
moments exist. The question is whether we are
ready to see them and whether we are willing
to be interrupted when they come. Sometimes it's
very simple. Maybe it's a conversation that you
take time for that you hadn't planned. A moment
when somebody needs encouragement. A small opportunity
to help that would be easy to overlook. But I
think those are often the places where God is
already at work. So a question we can consider
tonight. Where might God already be inviting
us to serve? And am I open enough, attentive
enough to notice when that moment comes? Let's
turn to the next movement, because the way that
we serve matters. Jesus doesn't announce what
he's about to do. He doesn't gather the disciples
and say, hey, watch me. He simply kneels, quietly,
humbly, without drawing attention to himself.
And so this third movement is about how we serve,
and that is to adopt an approach of quiet humility.
You know, Jesus taught this explicitly in the
Sermon on the Mount. Again, he uses some really
interesting language where he says, when you
give to the needy, don't even let your left hand
know what your right hand is doing. It's almost
a strange image. But I think that the point is
clear. For Christians, some of the most faithful
acts of service are the ones that are performed
not for others to see. They're offered quietly,
before God, for his glory. I can remember a moment
from my years at World Vision. A donor gave a
really significant gift. And when asked how he
wanted to be recognized, he said, please don't
recognize me at all. This isn't about my name.
It's about what God is doing. I want to give
him glory. Now, let's be clear. There are many
generous gifts, large and small, that are recognized
publicly and that can be a powerful witness and
example for others. But there's also something
deeply Christ -like about someone who serves
without needing to be seen. And when you look
at Jesus here, kneeling on the floor, you realize
just how different the way he's working from
the way that our world works. Our world often
looks for recognition, for applause, for visibility.
But Jesus shows us another way, a way of humility,
a way that points beyond ourselves to God. Peter
captures this beautifully. As each person has
received a gift, use it to serve one another
so that in everything God may be glorified through
Jesus Christ. So maybe the questions under this
movement are these. Am I willing to serve quietly
even when no one notices? Even if I am recognized,
am I still focused more on God's glory rather
than myself? And is my approach to serving reflecting
the humility of Jesus? Well, and finally, the
fourth movement. We need to step into action
when the moment appears. Because at some point,
service becomes real only through what we do.
In my consulting work, I was speaking recently
with a CEO of a large organization who was very
honest about a challenge he was facing. And he
said about his organization and his team, we
are very good at admiring problems, but not always
as good at doing something about them. I think
if we're honest, that could be true of us as
well. We can admire compassion, admire generosity,
admire the idea of service, but Jesus doesn't
just admire the idea of service. He kneels. He
acts. And the New Testament scriptures make clear
that this matters. James writes, faith by itself,
if it does not have works, is dead. It's clear
language. Now, James is not saying that our actions
are what saves us. We are saved by grace. But
he is saying that real faith, living faith, should
always express itself through action. Because
when the love of Christ takes root in us, in
our hearts, it begins us to have an orientation
to move outward. into what we do, into how we
respond, into the choices that we make when a
moment is placed in front of us. At some point,
love has to become visible, tangible, real, and
it does so when we act. That's what we see in
Jesus. That's what he invites us into. And so
perhaps the question for us tonight is this.
What is one small step I'm being invited to take?
Where might I be called not just to feel, but
to act. You know that at Trinity during Lent,
we've been tracking through the This is the Way
series, and you should have received one of the
little pocket booklets. One of the practices
included here is that of service. And there's
some great examples of actions to take that map
well with Jesus' mandate and these movements
that we've talked about. And there's an opportunity
to consider your actions, considering simple
rhythms that allow you to give yourself to others
throughout the year. Sometimes really powerful
to be able to take it from our minds and put
it down on paper as a commitment. Well, as I
prepare to close, I want to point to something
even deeper. In this night, as we're gathered
in the upper room with his disciples, Jesus knows
what's coming. He knows even that Judas, in just
an hour or so, will betray him. Which means,
If we think about this, that Jesus kneels before
the man who will hand him over to death and washes
his feet. He serves him. This is the love of
Christ. A love that doesn't withdraw, a love
that doesn't calculate, a love that's not conditional.
It's a love that serves, even when it costs everything.
And that means that my talk tonight is not just
a sermon about service that we could have at
any time of the year. It's a shared moment within
this Holy Week that I think invites a response.
Because taking up the towel points us forward.
Because we know, and we'll be gathered back here
tomorrow morning, that in just a few hours, Jesus
will kneel again. Not beside a basin, but beneath
the weight of a cross. The servant king who washes
feet will give his life. And so the hinge turns
from the upper room to the cross, from the towel
to the nails. And tonight is not only a hinge
moment in Holy Week, it may be a hinge moment
for us. This could be a moment of invitation.
of decision, a moment when something begins to
open as we seek to align our lives and our hearts
with those of Jesus. Because the question is
not whether the door is opening. The question
is, will we step through it? Will we follow Jesus'
command and follow his example? And will we take
up the towel? In just a few moments, we're going
to turn to the communion table. And in doing
so, we begin continue what began on this very
night 2 ,000 years ago. Because the meal that
we're about to share isn't separate from what
we've talked about. It flows directly from it.
Tonight we come together around the table, not
as those who have mastered the idea of service,
but as those who have been served by Christ.
The one who knelt now gives himself to us. His
body, his blood, given for us. And as we receive,
we can think about his words. I have set you
an example. So when that moment comes, as we
remember, as we give thanks, as we sit with Jesus
and the disciples, as we begin together to walk
toward the cross, I pray that we'll step forward,
take up the towel, and serve. Amen.