Maundy Madness

As I write this, Marquette is in the second half of a close game with Kentucky in the first round of the NCAA tournament. Though I have not had much time to follow basketball in the last seven years since leaving Iowa State, I do have an affinity for this game as it pits my current school against my former school. (Asbury Seminary did not have a basketball team so as far as sports go, I adopted the University of Kentucky as my collegiate team during those years.) But alas I am not watching the game as I am reading furiously to try to get ahead for the final push of the semester, "the Paper Madness" as I like to call it.

What is more unfortunate is that I will likely not pause too long to remember the significance of this day. For it is not just the beginning of March Madness, as most Americans (and sadly most Christians) will only take note of today, but it is Maundy Thursday, the day in which our Lord celebrated the last supper with his disciples, the day in which he donned the towel of a servant to wash the feet of his disciples. The Pope, in his Maundy Thursday address from Rome, likened the event to the early Christological hymn preserved in Philippians 2:

"He had equal status with God but didn't think so much of himself that he had to cling to the advantages of that status no matter what. Not at all. When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human! Having become human, he stayed human. It was an incredibly humbling process. He didn't claim special privileges. Instead, he lived a selfless, obedient life and then died a selfless, obedient death - and the worst kind of death at that: a crucifixion." -Philippians 2:6-8

If the Pope is right, and I think that he is (despite the fact that he was not speaking ex cathedra) then the footwashing episode is a microcosm of the entirety of Jesus' life. Even to the point that some of those whom he serves want to reject the cleansing. To paraphrase the early Patristic dictum with this understanding: "He became a servant, that we might be the one who is served."

This insight of the Pope's mirrors that of some of the early reflections on the Eucharistic mystery. Writers such as Cyprian of Carthage connected the actions Jesus took at the last supper in giving the bread and wine with the actions he took on Golgotha in giving his body and blood. It is all one mysterious act, through which we are reconciled to God. Our feet are now clean to walk where God walks. We could not clean them ourselves, as Peter's refusal was ultimately suggesting (despite the pious front), but we needed the Holy God to do it. This, when you think about it, truly deserves the appellation madness. And yet it is this madness - or foolishness as the Apostle Paul writes - that is our salvation.

Maundy Thursday

Today is the Feast of Maundy Thursday, also called Holy Thursday, which commemorates the night in which Jesus instituted the Eucharist with his disciples. It was in the midst of their celebration of the salvific moment in Israel's history where the blood of the lamb above their doorways allowed the Angel of Death to pass over them, the final plague which ultimately led to their Exodus. In the midst of the celebration, Jesus stood up and performed that mysterious and holy action:

"This is my body, given for you."

"This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you."

Blood is salvific in the course of Israel's history. It is shed each time God makes a covenant with his people. It is the means by which the lamb passed over. And in less than 24 hours after that last supper, Jesus' blood would be shed, establishing a new covenant with his people. A covenant which is written on their hearts. A covenant which abolishes sin and death once and for all. And the church has been eating his body and drinking his blood ever since; it is the oldest and most cherished sacrament of the church.

The account of the institution of the Eucharist occurs in three of the four Gospels. But the interesting thing is that the term by which we remember this night comes not from any of these Gospels, but from John: "A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another." The Latin phrase for new command is "mandatum novum" the origin of Maundy.

In place of the Eucharist in John (which there is discussed in ch 6), Jesus dons a towel and washes the feet of his disciples. This is the embodiment of his new command, to love one another. Jesus loved us so much to the point that he died for us. The reality is that in everyday life, we will not get the chance to love our friends this much. But here Jesus shows the way to love one another - by serving one another. By caring more for others than ourselves.

On this Maundy Thursday, let us remember the Eucharist which commemorates the new covenant by which we are brought into communion with God, and let us remember the new command that Christ gave us, to love others as He loved us. May he give us the strength and the courage to do so.

Servant Leadership

In my Byzantine Theology class, we have been studying the writings of the rather enigmatic figure Dionysius the Areopagite, which had a major influence on theologians of the ensuing generations, both east and west. The mystery surrounding this small corpus is that, for all of their influence, no one is quite sure who the author is. He claims to be the first century figure mentioned in Acts 17, one of the only people to respond to the Apostle's Paul preaching. From historical clues in the writings, however, it is quite certain that the writer could not have been Paul's disciple. More likely these works came from the late fifth to early sixth century. Because of his pseudonym (and other arguably questionable material in his works), Dionysius has come under much criticism. Unfortunately, I think that these criticisms have obscured the amazing spirituality he represents.

Take for example his thoughts on the ecclesiastical hierarchy of leaders (Bishop - priests - deacons - monks - lay people). Of course, Protestants criticize this hierarchy because it seems to imply that some are closer to God or have more access to God or something. But when he explains the ordination process of each of these ministers, you catch a glimpse of the beautiful and if you can see through the symbols, you catch a glimpse of Christ. To summarize his discussion of the ordination ceremony:

1. Monks stand before the altar and are anointed by the Bishop.
2. Deacons kneel on one knee before the altar and are anointed by the Bishop.
3. Priests kneel on both knees before the altar and are anointed by the Bishop.
4. The Bishop kneels on both knees and literally places the Scriptures on his head, and is anointed by a fellow Bishop.

What amazes me about this seemingly straightforward ceremony is the symbolism in the posture. Notice that the "higher" one gets in the hierarchy of power, the "lower" they are prostrated. This displays in physical form the calling of Christ upon every human's life, but particularly upon those who would answer the call to shepherd others. This is a call to follow in the footsteps of Christ, "who did not consider equality with God a thing to be grasped but made himself nothing taking the very form of a slave."

This beautiful account of a sixth century ordination service reminds us that leaders in the church are not called to greater stature and greater power (as leaders in the world are); rather, leaders in the church are called to be the servant of others, as Christ was the servant of all. This is a message, I think, that many of today's church leaders need desperately to hear and desperately to grasp. It is likewise a message that I, as I prepare to be a "Doctor", whatever that means, need to hear and grasp.