FIFTH SUNDAY OF EASTER, YEAR C

May 15, 2022

St. Uriel’s, Sea Girt, N. J.

 

"A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; even as I have loved you, that you also love one another."

 

At this point in the liturgical year, we’re traversing the forty days between our Lord’s Resurrection and his Ascension into heaven. Today’s Gospel takes us back, however, to Maundy Thursday, the night before the Crucifixion, when Jesus and his disciples are gathered for their last supper together. This part of John’s Gospel is called the “Farewell Discourse,” because Jesus is giving his disciples instructions on how to carry on after he’s physically departed from them. So, it makes a certain amount of sense that the Church appoints readings from the Farewell Discourse on these Sundays leading up to the Feast of the Ascension when the risen Jesus finally is taken up into heaven.

 

It’s easy to overlook the point that at the Last Supper we’re hearing from someone who’s to all outward appearances a defeated and doomed man. His enemies are closing in. In John’s narrative, since the stir caused by the raising of Lazarus, the Jewish authorities have been taking counsel how to put Jesus to death, and Jesus has gone into hiding. 

 

Gathered for supper in Jerusalem on the eve of the Passover, Jesus washes his disciples’ feet. Troubled in spirit, he predicts that one of those present will betray him. When the traitor Judas Iscariot departs, the disciples think that he’s gone out on an errand to buy something for the feast or to give something to the poor. It’s at this point that today’s Gospel reading begins: “Now when [Judas] had gone out, Jesus said, “Now is the Son of man glorified, and in him God is glorified …”

 

In the language of John’s Gospel, these words are a prediction of the Passion—since Jesus routinely refers to his coming death as his glorification. Then he adds: “Little children, yet a little while I am with you. You will seek me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, ‘Where I am going you cannot come.’” Immediately following today’s Gospel passage, Peter asks, “Lord, why cannot I follow you now? I will lay down my life for you.” Jesus responds by predicting Peter’s threefold denial: “Will you lay down your life for me? Truly, truly I say to you, the cock will not crow until you have denied me three times.” Once again, these are words of one who is to all outward appearances a defeated man, matter-of-factly anticipating his death the next day.

 

What’s remarkable in this context is what Jesus does not say. Even as he predicts Judas’ betrayal and Peter’s denial, Jesus does not behave as we might expect a defeated man to behave.

 

Consider the contrast with actor Bruno Ganz’s portrayal of Adolf Hitler in the 2004 German film Downfall. As the Soviet forces enter Berlin, Ganz delivers an epic tantrum blaming Germany’s defeat on its military commanders, the SS, the rank-and-file German soldiers, and finally the German people themselves. Whatever its historical accuracy, Ganz’s performance is riveting not only because it channels an evil madman’s rage, but also because it exemplifies in extreme form the all-too typical behavior of defeated leaders: fault-finding, vindictiveness, recriminations, blame, self-pity, and self-exoneration.

 

At the Last Supper, we might expect a messianic figure like Jesus to voice disappointment or regret, to lash out at his disciples for their disloyalty and cowardice, or even to attempt to rally them with calls to avenge his death. But instead, he speaks to them of love. At the moment of his apparent downfall, he commands them love one another as he’s loved them.

 

A new commandment I give to you. Notice, first, that Jesus calls this saying a commandment: not a suggestion, recommendation, invitation, good advice, or exhortation, but a commandment. Here’s what you must do if you’re to continue as my disciples after I’m gone.

 

Notice, also, that Jesus calls this saying not merely a commandment but a new commandment: something that the disciples presumably haven’t heard before. And that raises the question: In what sense is this commandment to love one another something new?

 

In the Old Testament, God gave Israel the commandment to “love your neighbor as yourself.” But our Lord’s commandment to love one another is new and unprecedented on account of what comes next: “as I have loved you.” To love our neighbors as ourselves, we need to be willing to do for them whatever we hope that they’d do for us in similar circumstances. If I hope that you’d be willing to go grocery shopping for me when I’m quarantined at home, then I’d better be willing to do the same for you.

 

But our Lord’s love surpasses even that kind of love. For us, he dies on the cross. That’s not something we’d ever ask anyone to do for us. On the cross, Jesus offers up everything for us, with no thought for himself. His love is self-sacrificial: love that literally dies to self for the sake of the other.

 

It’s this quality of self-denying love that he commands us to exhibit in our life together as Christians. This doesn’t necessarily mean that we’ll be called to suffer literal martyrdom – although in many parts of the world giving one’s life for Christ remains a very real possibility. But it does mean that life in the Church involves offering ourselves as servants of one another and putting the collective good of the community before our own individual good. In this way, we begin to love one another as Christ has loved us.

 

We already see this quality of love exhibited in the life of this parish community. Here at S. Uriel’s, I’ve often been moved by the ways in which parishioners reach out to express concern for one another in times of loss, and to lend a helping hand in time of need. One of the blessings of the time I’ve spent with you is that it’s taught me that something approximating genuine Christian community really is still possible in today’s Church. 

 

As you prepare to welcome your new Rector, this quality of love for one another will be more important than ever. It will entail some basic commitments, beginning with simply being here: coming to Mass faithfully on Sundays throughout the year; and attending parish activities and events as you are able. Such simple sacrifices are not always easy, not always convenient, and not always what we’d most rather be doing in the moment. But they school us in the art of loving as Christ has loved us, so that the world will know that we’re his disciples.

 

Beyond that, keep your Rector-Elect, Wardens, and Vestry in constant prayer, and support them, mindful of the tremendous weight of responsibility they carry. Pray for the bishop, and for all the clergy and people of this diocese. But most of all, take the arrival of your new Rector as another opportunity to continue drawing closer to one another in love.