Luke 22:19-20 Pastor Nathan P. Kassulke
Maundy Thursday Thursday, April 14, 2022 “A Crucial Hour: ‘This Is…For You’”
Today is a Thursday with a weird name. The first paragraph in your worship folder explains that name so that no one is busy wondering what it means or why we call it what we do. We could use other names, and some people do. “Holy Thursday” is becoming a more popular option. It is the Thursday of Holy Week. It is the fifth day of the week when Jesus dies. It is the night on which he is betrayed. After that, he is arrested, then put on trial, then sentenced to death, then executed. It is the night when Jesus sits down with his disciples to celebrate the Passover for the last time, the last real, full meal that they would participate in together. In other words, this was a crucial hour. This was as crucial as hours come. We’ve used that word, crucial, to describe many words and events from Christ’s path to the cross. If you have been with us for our Wednesday Lenten services, you have heard a number of them. But today we focus our attention on that long-ago day that corresponds with this one, that special Thursday, and we witness what Jesus does at that most crucial of hours. And what he does is give his disciples a gift, an amazing and precious gift. And we hear him proclaim and explain and promise what that gift is worth and how we ought to regard it as he says for us to hear as well as them: “This is…for you.” The meal has been on the table. The Passover celebration had a certain rhythm and order to it. The unleavened bread and the wine were important elements in the feast. But that night the plan changed. The old thing wasn’t prepared to handle this crucial hour. Jesus did something, gave something, that was new. He broke the unleavened bread so that it could be divided among the disciples and he passed it around to them. And he said, “This is my body.” He took the cup and shared it and said, “This is the new testament in my blood.” “This is” Jesus said. And he revealed a truth that was not obvious and was not apparent. Just as we do when we recreate to a degree what took place there, the disciples saw and tasted and were aware of what was obvious. There was bread of a certain sort and there was wine of a certain quality. And Jesus said more. He said, “My body, my blood.” He said, “This is.” This that is eaten and drunk is not just a representation; it is more than a reminder. This food and drink has not changed in a way that destroys what it was before. But in an incredible and unseen way, Jesus adds to these simple vessels, at that most crucial hour, a most precious gift. What Jesus gives is himself. Within hours everything is going to change: his relationship with his disciples, his presence with his disciples, his visible and tangible and apparent connection to them. All of this would change. All of this would be hidden. This was it: the last meal, the last Passover, the last time that in this way Christ would spend hours and days and weeks with those men. But do you know what wasn’t going to change? The sinfulness…the arrogance…the selfish desires. That very night these men were arguing about who was the greatest. They were trying to avoid humble works of service toward each other. What would not change was the fact that in Peter and John and James and Matthew and in all the rest lived a nature that was nothing but sin and guilt and rebellion. And so what would not change for them was their constant need for helping and saving. What would not change for them was their constant need for Jesus. Here he is. Here is his true body. Here is his true blood. As we celebrate what was given then, believe it. This is more than a sip of wine. It is more than a wafer. It is your Savior’s body that was crucified to punish your sins. It is his blood that signifies a new covenant of forgiveness. This is spiritual food. He allows you to eat it and to drink it. For our bodies, the portion is small and the nutrition is barely worth assessing. For our souls this is the greatest feast imaginable—one that our Savior gives us to prepare us and to sustain us for our heavenly home and for our journey there. He says, “This is my body. This is my blood.” And he says, “for you.” You know your crucial hours. You know the times when the cross has confronted you. You know the moments when God wants you to struggle against your sinful self. And you know the many times that you don’t. You fail. You fall. You sin. You know the voice of conscience that accuses you, and if you don’t know that voice, it is