YouTube video sermon
John 13:1-17, 31-35
Like millions of Christians around the world, we’re gathered this evening to celebrate Maundy Thursday. For folks like me, that grew up in a church tradition that didn’t recognize Maundy Thursday with special worship services, it wasn’t until I was older (in college, in fact) that I learned the significance of the day and the service.
If you’ve never heard the term, it’s not Monday-Thursday (a conversation that Parker and I had on Tuesday night). It’s Maundy Thursday, as in mandatum Thursday. Mandatum is, of course, the Latin word for “command” or “mandate.” We call it Maundy Thursday because it was on this night – before His death – that Jesus gave His disciples a new mandate, a new command. In John’s gospel, Jesus said, “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another” (13:34).
It seems strange that Jesus would call this a “new” command. After all, the Old Testament instructed God’s people to love their neighbors. Jesus, Himself, even summarized the law as love for God and love for others. So, what’s new about it? What’s new about this love? Most folks would point to the footwashing that took place just before the institution of the Lord’s Supper as the “thing” that makes it new. In fact, some church traditions still practice footwashing as part of this night’s worship service. (I’m going to be selective and simply claim COVID-19 restrictions on that one.)
No, what makes the command “new” is the standard that Jesus sets. His passion was something unheard of then and still today. There’s a new example, a new commandment, a new kind of love on the market. It’s the kind of love that sacrifices itself for others, that dies that others might live – and not in a G.I. Joe fashion or first-responder way (as noble and needed as those folks are) – but giving eternal life. There was never any love like the dying love of Jesus.
Think about it. Jesus had nothing to gain from us by loving us the way He did. There was nothing in us to draw us to Him. Yet He loved us still, while we were yet sinners (the Bible says).
At the Last Supper… In the garden… At His betrayal… Facing the Jewish leaders… Before Pontius Pilate… Being scourged… Carrying His cross… Being nailed to the tree… Breathing His dying breath… Forsaken by God… To the end… To death…
In all of those places and at all of those times – He loved us. He loves us still. Love shone best and brightest at Calvary. A new commandment I give you… A new standard I set for you… Love as I have loved you.
Christ was all anguish that we might be all joy.
Christ cast off so that we might be brought in.
Christ was trodden down as an enemy that we might be welcomed as a friend.
Christ surrendered to hell’s worst that we might attain heaven’s best.
Christ was stripped in order that we might be clothed.
He was wounded that we might be healed
He was thirsty that we might drink.
He was tormented that we might be comforted.
He was made shameful that we might inherit glory.
He entered darkness that we might have eternal life.
Jesus wept that all tears might be wiped from our eyes.
Jesus groaned that we might have endless song.
Jesus endured all pain so that, one day, our bodies would be imperishable.
Jesus bore a thorny crown that we might receive a crown of life.
Jesus bowed His head that we might uplift ours.
Jesus experienced reproach that we might receive welcome.
Our Savior closed His eyes in death that we might gaze on unclouded brightness, and expired that we might forever live.
(adapted from The Valley of Vision, “Love Lustres at Calvary” by Arthur Bennett)