The Last Supper

(This week's post is written by Pastor Michael Smith)

What comes to mind when you think of the Last Supper?  Perhaps it’s the narrative of Passion week: the triumphal entry, cleansing the temple, then celebrating Passover with the disciples.  Or is it Davinci’s famous painting, with all its mystery and tension and symbolism?  Perhaps it’s not so much a thought as a feeling: that ominous sense that Friday’s coming.  Jesus will be betrayed and arrested. He’ll leave his disciples and take up his cross.  It’s impossible to seriously contemplate the life of Jesus without the events of Good Friday.  

But before Friday comes Thursday.  

Come, recline with Jesus at table.  Hear the Word of God speak to his disciples one last time.  See the twelve break bread with the very Bread of Life.  Taste the fruit of the Vine, poured out for us.

A Meal of Remembrance

Jesus arrived in Jerusalem to observe the Passover, the holy week commemorating God’s rescue of Israel from their slavery in Egypt.  1,500 years earlier, on that first Passover night, the people had gathered inside at God’s command, covered by the blood of a lamb, and ate in haste as they prepared for escape:  sandals on, cloak tucked in belt, staff in hand.  There was little time for conversation, and no time to relax.

But not so in Jesus’s day.  This would’ve been a slow meal - no staff, no cloaks tucked into belts, sandals off.  Israel ate the first passover in haste, but later they would commemorate God’s faithfulness with a deliberate slowness.  They would leave room to reflect on their deliverance, to enjoy the bread, the cup, the lamb - to be still, knowing they are not God.  

God shows mercy in haste and lets us enjoy it at rest.  He invites you to pause this week, find a moment of stillness, and reflect on his faithfulness.

And so we see Jesus in repose with the twelve, not crowded to one side of a high table posing for a renaissance fresco, but seated on cushions spread around a low table in a traditional triclinium arrangement as they talk, laugh, debate, and enjoy Passover together.

Status At Jesus’s Table

The triclinium was a u-shaped table setting, with guests seated from eldest or more honored at one end of the U, around to the youngest and less important at the other end, with an opening in the middle so all the guests could see and hear each other.  

We can imagine the young disciples debating about their assigned seats.  Perhaps James the Greater questioning why Peter gets the more honorable position.  Perhaps a passing joke about John the Beloved being the youngest, thus seated at the place of lowest honor.  And Jesus, ever the patient teacher, sees an opportunity to display the priorities of his Kingdom.  He stands and wraps a towel around his waist, takes a basin, and begins the unthinkable:  the master stooping to the place of the servant.

A hush falls over the young men, as they instantly shift from position-jockeying to embarrassed and uncomfortable:  What is he doing? This is just a harmless debate amongst us twelve - but we know none of us is greater than the Rabbi! 

Peter, as he is wont to do, speaks up:  

“No, Lord, you will never wash my feet.”  

“If I don’t wash you, you have no share with me.”

A moment of contemplation.  

“Then Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!”

Jesus shows the disciples what true greatness is: not to command, but to serve.  And then perhaps he takes a seat, not in the place of honor, but next to the youngest disciple at the other end of the table: the place where John could recline against his Lord as they share this supper.

And Jesus extends another invitation to you:  where in your life are you vying for status?  Are you looking at others - currently seated in a more “honorable” position - with jealousy? Envy?  Are you frustrated by responsibilities that seem menial or undervalued?  

Jesus invites you to reframe, to remember that in our Lord’s kingdom greatness is not the same as social status.  The Master was not above washing feet or sitting in the place of lowest honor.  Could you join him there, perhaps even with joy?

Betrayal At Jesus’s Table

With the tone now set, the disciples now focused, Jesus leads them through the meal of remembrance.  He recounts their deliverance from Egypt, the blood of the lamb, the journey through the wilderness, the bread from heaven, the covenant established through Moses.  They recall how Yahweh subverted the greatest power in the ancient world.  And the disciples quietly ponder how the lesson in servanthood relates to Jesus’s own destiny as Messiah.  After all, just a few days earlier they entered the Holy City to shouts of adoration; their rabbi riding on a donkey’s colt just as the prophet had predicted.  Surely this is the beginning of deliverance from the Romans.  But how does the “least of these” throw off an oppressive political regime and establish the Kingdom of God on Earth?  How does a servant leader ignite a revolution?

Jesus offers them a second shock: this is not the inaugural meal to usher in his earthly reign.  No, in fact, one of the very men at this table will betray him and deliver him over to die.

The quiet is shattered by protest.  

This can’t be!  Who would do this?  The twelve look around:  these are my brothers.  These are men who have proven themselves faithful.  Peter?  He would never.  James? John? Judas? Andrew?  Couldn’t be.  

Then a sinking feeling begins to creep in.  

I questioned the Master once.  I said he should be more assertive, that he’s squandering his influence, that he could change the world in an instant if he would just take power. Is that the seed of betrayal?  Am I the guilty one?

The conversation fractures into several sidebars, everyone perplexed by Jesus’s prediction and their own self-consciousness. Peter alone is defiant, confident he will stay faithful even if it means prison or death.  As the room reverberates with shocked conversation, he looks across from the place of honor to John, seated next to Jesus.  He motions.  Ask him. Who is it?

What was a peaceful dinner of remembrance is now simmering with tense discussion.  Yet Jesus continues to eat.  He hands Judas a morsel of bread and speaks quietly to him.  Judas stands and hurries from the room.  

Did we forget something?  What did Jesus send him to get?  What else does the Lord have planned for this evening?

The remaining disciples sit in a mix of disbelief and fear, questioning their own motives, their meager faith.

But Jesus calls them back to table.  He speaks to them of the Father’s glory, of a future where they will dwell together in the Father’s house.  He promises not to leave them without a Helper, that his very presence will be with them continually.  And he reminds them to love one another as he has loved them.  Little did they understand in that moment how great was that love.

And Jesus offers a third invitation to us:  how often are we distracted by our own failings, our own risk of betraying the Lord in whatever little or big ways - yet he is patiently waiting for us at table?

Community At Jesus’s Table

The table is a place of vulnerability and a place of intimacy. It’s a place where memories are shared and memories are made.  It’s a place of communion.

And so Jesus took the bread.  The bread that was to remind them of God’s deliverance from slavery.  And he said, just as this bread is broken and torn, so will my body be broken. For you.  Remember that.

And he took the cup. Just as the blood covered the people in that first Passover, and just as the blood has flowed ever since in the covenantal sacrifices, so will my blood be poured out.  For you.  Remember.

At our church, we observe the Lord’s supper every week.  And every week we are reminded that the table holds the mystery that unites all of us in Christ Jesus:  we receive the body of Christ as the Body of Christ.  We, separated by physical bodies, by lived experience, by personalities and proclivities - we are a community created by communion.  

And every week Jesus is inviting us to remember.  To recline.  To rest.

During Passion week, we rightly direct much of our attention on Friday and Sunday.  But don’t skim past Thursday.  Pause, and remember.  Remember that Jesus is inviting you - knowing everything you have done, and everything you will do - he is inviting you to recline with him at table.