Our opening verse comes from Mark, who
ended his description of the Last Supper, saying, “After singing a hymn, they went
out to the Mount of Olives.”
The disciples were happy as they walked
along under the stars. It was a bittersweet happiness. Jesus said too many
sorrow-shadowed things. His final words, especially, kept ringing in their
ears: “Do this in memory of me.”
Years after the Last Supper, Paul wrote,
“As
often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the death until he
comes.” Paul’s point is important. Jesus is present in a mysterious way
in every celebration of the Eucharist, or the Lord’s Supper, but the fullness
of his presence will be realized only when he returns in glory. Until then, the
Lord’s Supper will always be a paradox of presence and absence.
It will be a call “to mourning as well
as feasting, to sadness as well as to joy, to longing as well as to
satisfaction.”[i]
… When you attend church and come to the Lord’s Table to receive Christ’s Body
and Blood under the form of bread and wine, why is it so meaningful for you? Do
you mourn or rejoice? Are you sad or satisfied? Perhaps your feelings are
influenced by life’s events and affect how Christ comes to you in the Lord’s
Supper. Is it the birth of a grandchild (what Cindy and I are anticipating) or
the death of a grandmother (what Pastor Wietfeldt and the members of Lorna
Frederking family are experiencing)?… Before you retire this evening, take time
to speak to Jesus about the opportunity to share in His Supper.
Next, the discouragement Jesus must have
felt. We have all experienced discouragement. It may have been as a child or as
a parent, in our personal or professional lives. Like Jesus, we have all
experienced discouragement.
In the vein of Paul Harvey, I tell you
the story of a mother who experienced great discouragement when one day her partially
deaf son came home from school with a note from his teacher. Little Tommy
handed the note to his mother.
Mother opened the note slowly and read
it. As she did, she choked back tears. The note suggested her son was too dull
to learn. He was holding back the entire class. It would be better if she would
withdraw him from school.
The mother finished reading the note. At
first, she felt discouraged, then awkward and finally challenged. She said to
herself, “My son is not too dull to
learn. I’ll teach him myself.”
When little Tommy died many years later,
the entire nation honored him in a remarkable way. At exactly 9:59 p.m. Eastern
Standard Time in late October 1931, every home turned off its lights for one
minute as a tribute to the man who invented those lights.
Thomas Alva Edison, inventor of the
electric lightbulb, the movie projector and the record player, the boy “too
dull to learn,” died with a thousand patents to his credit.[ii]
From the outset of his ministry, Jesus
faced opposition. He was opposed not only by the devil, but also by those he
called. “I mean, really,” said one of his disciples, “could
anything good come from Nazareth?”[iii]
As a follower of Jesus, I am certain you
experienced discouragement. This week, recall those moments, and speak to Jesus
about how he handled discouragement.
I close with a quote from Harper Lee’s
main character in “To Kill a Mockingbird,” Atticus Finch. One of the memorable
lines in her book is often memorized and quoted like a confirmation verse. “You never really understand a person until
you consider things from his point of view … until you climb into his skin and
walk around in it.”
Until you climb into his skin and walk
around in it. … This week, ask the Lord for the grace to accept life’s trials
with the same courageous acceptance that he demonstrated in Gethsemane.
Contemplate Jesus’ suffering the way the evangelists contemplated it. … May the
Passion of Jesus mark your second week of Lent. And may the peace of God that
surpasses all understanding keep your heart and mind in Christ Jesus.[iv] Amen.
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