God Sustains Us in the Wilderness

Rebecca Sheridan
Maundy Thursday, April 9, 2020
Exodus 12:1-14

    It has now been exactly one month since we celebrated Holy Communion together, and believe me, I am painfully aware of the fact that we are unable to celebrate that sacrament together tonight. Holy communion is definitely missing on a night where our scriptures focus on the meal Jesus instituted “on the night in which he was betrayed.”  As Christians, we remember that this Holy Week is rooted in the older Jewish tradition of celebrating the Passover.  In Jewish tradition, a young child at the Seder meal asks, “Why is this night different from other nights?”   It seems appropriate especially this Holy Week to ask what makes this week different from other weeks, in spite of and even BECAUSE of our current global pandemic.  When we can’t celebrate Holy Communion together, what makes this night still holy, different from other nights?  How is God continuing to sustain us, giving us faith and hope, even as we sit with the disciples preparing to witness once again Jesus’ betrayal, trial, and crucifixion, even as we look to a very different Easter celebration that most of us, in our wildest imaginations, would have thought could be possible. Cut off from each other and from receiving Christ’s body and blood, how IS God sustaining us still?  What makes this night STILL so holy?
Together with our Jewish friends, we heard the words from Exodus recounting the first Passover, which they were to eat hurriedly, staff in hand, to be ready to leave Egypt on their forty-year camping trip in the wilderness.  When the Israelites girded their loins and ate that Passover lamb hurriedly, they huddled in their homes praying that the plague would pass them by, that the lamb’s blood on their doorposts would protect them.  Their situation seems eerily similar to ours.  Then, following Moses, they were led by God’s pillar of fire by night and pillar of cloud by day out of Egypt, safely across the Red Sea, and to the promised land.  But it took forty years, remember. Forty years of NOT being able to celebrate the Passover with roasted lamb and bread.  Forty years instead of manna, quail, and water from a rock. Forty years of not knowing exactly where they were going or when they would get there.  As they wandered in the wilderness, their faith and trust in God was tested – it was not easy, and sometimes it seemed better to them either to go back to Egypt or worship a golden calf.  So we sit with uncertainty in a global pandemic, physically separated from our loved ones, afraid of a modern-day plague, and unable to fully celebrate our holiest of days.  We are not alone. We have been here before, as people of faith.  It’s why the Passover story is still such a powerful one for Jews and Christians alike – this night is different from other nights.  This night is not just about a meal, but about remembering that God saves and sustains his people especially when they are suffering.  Tonight we remember God has saved us, in spite of it all.  God continues to save and sustain us, even in the wilderness time.  This is not an easy time, yet God remains faithful to us and feeds us with his word when we cannot take the bread and wine as we had been used to doing.
    We are not alone.  Just as the Israelites wandered in the wilderness, separated from their regular worship and ritual traditions, so we, too, are accompanied by God on this difficult journey to heal our world affected by a novel virus.  It’s important for us as well to remember what we CAN do on a night like tonight – tonight we began with the ritual of confession and forgiveness, and we have our gospel reading where Jesus washes the disciples feet (if you want to wash your spouse’s or kids feet tonight, that would be totally appropriate!).  The word “Maundy” is not just a misspelling of Monday, the day of the week. It is Latin for “commandment.”  Jesus gives us a new commandment to love one another.  Just as he has loved us, so also we are to love one another.  Love has no barriers – we can still love others and be loved, even if we have to be a little more creative about it.  We can love and sustain one another with prayer, phone calls, email, cards in the mail, worship over the internet waves, turning off the news or social media feeds when it gets too negative, taking time with family and friends at home and over FaceTime or Skype.  As we continue our Holy Week, John’s gospel tells us that Jesus is our Passover lamb who takes away the sins of the world.  As the disciples gather for the Last Supper, there is no lamb meat, because Jesus is there to be that lamb.  While we sit and worship together from our homes, there is no bread or wine to bless. It’s strange, and sad.  But it is also a powerful reminder that Jesus remains – Jesus is here, Jesus is our lamb. No pandemic or plague or wilderness journey is too powerful or too enduring to defeat the power of the Lamb.  Wash your feet, confess your sins, hear Christ’s forgiveness as we remember how he died for us, for you, for me; and then strive to love one another, just as he has loved us.  That love, God’s love will sustain us.  Amen.