‘Carry on the tradition’: A Maundy Thursday Sermon at The Church of the Holy Apostles Brooklyn

I am deeply thankful to be preaching and sharing the Word here at Holy Apostles today. When I met Mothers Sarah and Kimberlee a few years ago, I knew immediately that we vibed on thinking expansively about how we live out our Gospel call, how the church can remain vibrant and how we remain tethered to the call for justice, and I'm humbled by the invitation to share the word in this special service. 

I guess I should introduce myself, my name is Josue Perea and I am currently a seminarian at Cathedral College/Mercer School of Theology and a Postulant for Holy Orders in the Diocese of Long Island. 

Well, Today is Maundy Thursday, the beginning of the Triduum, the three holy days marking the end of Jesus’s earthly journey. This theologically inclined parish surely knows that we call it "Maundy" Thursday because it is a mandate, coming from the Latin mandatum. It is that mandate I want to riff on today.

Now, you might think, "This is easy. The mandate Jesus is asking of us is to serve one another." 

And if that were all it was, that would be enough. But I think it is something much deeper.

But, before we get there, let’s back it up. The scriptures we read today have movement. The Exodus text starts us off by grounding us in a difficult, visceral act of remembrance. It’s a heavy story, a bloody story; it’s a memory of the day God moved to save a people, even as the firstborn of the Empire were struck down. Then the Psalmist pulls us a little closer to the heart, praying not just for memory, but for integrity, to remember the vows we’ve made in the presence of the people. And then, Paul steps in to bridge the gap, bringing us to this Table and reminding us of the Communion. He gives us those vaunted 'Words of Institution' that we still speak later.

All of this, the blood of Egypt, the vows of the Psalmist, the bread of the Apostle, it’s all pointing us toward this Gospel, the one that finally ties the knot between memory, vow, and flesh. It is a time to remember this Last Supper where we recall Jesus, remember our vows, and receive Communion. 

And, again, if that were all it was, that would be enough. But, again, I think there is something much deeper.

The text tells us that Jesus knew his time had come. He loved them to the end. Knowing what was about to happen, as gruesome as it all was, he knew he would be fine, and so he decided on this act of love, of service of washing and anointing his disciples' feet. It is such a scandalous thing. Peter can’t believe it. Judas likely can’t believe it, since he was already preparing to betray him. The whole scene is completely unexpected.

In Christian history, this was so irregular, including the way it happened, that Origen, one of our great ancestor theologians, tried to figure out what exactly happened. Why was it not done in the proper order? Traditionally, feet were washed before coming to the table. But here, Jesus washes them after they arrive at the table. Why? What is he trying to teach? These are among his final teachings. Why now?

Origen says it must be for a spiritual reason. And he was right. 

See, Jesus is washing/anointing the feet of the disciples not just to offer a model of service, he had done that already. Not just to show he loved them, he had done that already. He is doing it to initiate them into his tradition.

Jesus had already shown them what to do and how to be, but now he is making sure they know they are initiated, that they realize they are the ones who must carry on the legacy of this work.

As the great theologian of nonviolence Fr. John Dear interprets this moment:

"The episode is not meant to inspire us to service. It is not meant to urge us toward self-humiliation. Rather it is a ritual of preparing our feet to walk Jesus’ road of nonviolence. Think of it as a rite of passage of sorts, a summons to the holy lineage of agape, perhaps martyrdom and, beyond, resurrection. To enter upon such a life, ritual is in order. Ritual is how we prepare one another; it’s how we spread mutual support... Mary of Bethany did the same for Jesus—not only symbolically to prepare him for burial, but to fortify him for his walk toward Jerusalem... Apparently, just as Mary prepared Jesus, he decided to prepare his disciples. He learned from her, so he instructs them. Whoever follows him must be anointed for the difficult journey."

What is that legacy? What is the spirituality Origen was wondering about? Another person, Afro-Puerto Rican theologian Dr. Agustina Luvis Núñez helps us with that.

"This [enfleshed] spirituality challenges us to revise colonial burdens, their body/soul binarism, and their sacred/profane dichotomy. This spirituality is resistance, a celebration of ontological equality, political militancy, a matrix of multiple knowledges and flavors, a creator of communal healing theologies, and a source of gestures, symbols, signs, and images of more just worlds and futures."

In other words, this story is calling us to live an enfleshed spirituality of radical nonviolent love that extends from now into the future. 

Now, you may say, 'Whoa, what is he talking about? What is this nonviolent resistance of Jesus? What does this all mean?' It might sound complicated, but it is actually very simple: The nonviolent resistance Jesus invites us into is simply the command to, as Brooklyn’s own Prophet Biggie said: to spread love.

​It is the command to love one another in the face of Empire. It is the command to love ourselves deeply and our neighbors deeply, and if we do those first two well enough, to eventually love our enemies. The tradition Jesus initiates us into shows us that love is the most powerful force in the world.

​As James Baldwin once noted, the world is held together by the few people who actually know how to love. So, the mandatum of Maundy Thursday is simple: Love. But it becomes so hard to live that out in a world that teaches us not to love, or a world that de-emphasizes love when it doesn't look the way the Empire wants it to look.

​That is why we need this reminder. Each year, we come here to be reminded that we are part of a long lineage of people who have always loved, a lineage that began with Jesus and continues through each of us. We are reminded that we are part of this tradition of spreading love, the Brooklyn way but more importantly the Jesus way.

And that is why Jesus is asking his disciples to truly live into the flesh. This is why this story comes only once a year. This is why it is found only in the Gospel of John. It is a reminder that our faith is not only a spirituality of the mind, but a spirituality of the body.

Like the great James Baldwin said elsewhere when he was critiquing Christianity: we have focused too much on the "ill" of the body, the disrepute of the body. We have trivialized the body within the Christian tradition. Baldwin blamed St. Paul for much of this, but we have perpetuated it by removing the way we practice our faith with our bodies. Sometimes we shake hands, but sometimes even our time of passing of the "peace" feels distant. We don’t hug or touch because we haven’t practiced a spirituality that is truly enfleshed, that is part of our very skin and bone.

We have to remember that the Empire doesn't just crush ideas; it crushes bodies. So, when Jesus kneels to wash those feet, he isn't just performing a nice gesture. He is reclaiming the very thing the state seeks to destroy. He is saying that the flesh matters, and it is through this embodied reality, this 'enfleshed' existence, that we find the strength to say 'No' to the powers of death. A body that has been touched with intention and love, that body becomes a sanctuary. And a sanctuary is, by its very nature, a place of defiance.

What does this spirituality mean? In this moment, Jesus is calling us to a tradition rooted in peacemaking, in resisting the Empire of Death, and in practicing active, nonviolent resistance. It means today to stand up for our neighbors in need, defend those who are most vulnerable and create communities of care. And Jesus reminds them in the best way he know how, in a very personal intimate way, not a quick process, in a ritual.

Think of the intimacy of this moment. Imagine a candlelit room, some nice sounds in the air. Maybe if Jesus were born today, there would be some Jazz playing, some John Coltrane or Thelonious Monk in the background. There is definitely a jazzy vibe to this dinner.

At that moment, when the vibes are all good, when everyone is settled in, Jesus says, "I am going to wash your feet." But he isn't just making them clean for the dinner. He is saying: "I am becoming your bread, and now I am initiating you into my tradition. You must now become a part of the thing I have showed you."

That is the radical aspect. We are getting these reminders every year because we need to be constantly re-initiated, reminded of why we do what we do, because we know the cost is high, for Jesus it was death by Empire. So, we do this to encourage one another to continue, to not lose hope, and to not stop "spreading love" even when it feels like it is the hardest time to do so.

Jesus is saying: "Be me. Be like me. Model me." We lose that when we make this only about service. Service is beautiful, and it is easy to understand, or if we say we need to be humble, which yes is always important to remember. But this initiation ritual happened only once. Jesus was making sure: "Here is the way you have to follow."

It makes sense that after this, Judas leaves. He essentially says, "I’m not about this life, Jesus." He betrays him because Jesus is taking him to places he doesn’t want to go. It is no surprise that after this, Jesus is killed. And it is no surprise that Jesus then shows us that, even at the hands of Empire, this path leads not to death, but to a fuller life.

This is why Maundy Thursday is so important, particularly for a people living in the shadow of Empire. We must be reminded annually to continue our commitment. The Empire has only gotten darker and harder since last Maundy Thursday. It’s gotten harder since the Thursday before that. This ritual helps us remember that we can overcome Empire by following the one who already did.

I don't know you all specifically. But something tells me that this is a community that has been initiated into the tradition of resistance, of nonviolence, and of love. 

So today, I encourage you: put away your concerns about your feet. Don't worry if they aren't "pretty" or if you didn't get a pedicure. We’ve been taught by society that touching feet is too intimate, too much. Set all that aside.

Ask yourself: "Do I want to be encouraged to live in this tradition? Do I want to be encouraged in my clamoring for justice, in my activism, and in the way I show up for my family/community/city?" If you need that encouragement, I invite you to participate in this practice. This moment is what moves us toward action.

As another great ancestor of our church Gregory of Nazianzus said:

"It is good for the [feet and hands] to be consecrated... so that they are not swift to shed blood or to run to evil, but that they are prompt to run to the gospel and the prize of the high calling."

Our feet must be consecrated for the work at hand so that we may recall the tradition to remain inspired for the struggles ahead.

Just as the great revolutionary Assata Shakur said in her poem, "The Tradition":

Through the lies and the sell-outs,

The mistakes and the madness.

Through pain and hunger and frustration,

We carried it on.

Carried on the tradition.

Carried a strong tradition.

Carried a proud tradition.

Carried a Black tradition.

Carry it on.

Pass it down to the children.

Pass it down.

Carry it on.

Carry it on now.

Carry it on

TO FREEDOM!

That is what this is all about. We get our feet washed and anointed so that we can carry the tradition toward the future liberation Jesus wants us, and the whole world, to experience. By embodying this spirituality, we are carrying on Jesus’ tradition towards freedom for all.

Let us pray.

Loving God, who on this night celebrated the first Eucharist with your disciples:

​Remind us that to be initiated into your tradition is to walk with you in spirit and in truth, showing the world a different way of being. May this mandate, to spread love and to continue to clamor for justice, remind us that even when the Empire seems immovable, Love always wins in the end.

Help us, O God, to live this spirituality in our bones and in our flesh. Empower us to help others claim this enfleshed spirituality for themselves, so that little by little, we might transform our hurting world.

​In Your Triune Name we pray, ​Amen.