Bishop Brian Cole was the preacher for the Maundy Thursday service at St. John’s Episcopal Cathedral, Knoxville. He took inspiration from a choral composition by George Arthur “One in Christ” that the cathedral choir sang during their March Evensong.
Maundy Thursday 2024
St. John’s Cathedral
John 13:1-17, 31b-35
The Right Rev. Brian L. Cole
I have never been good at judging distances. My grandparents lived in northeast Arkansas, in a small town called Marmaduke. As a child, I thought it took us two hours to drive to their home for Sunday lunch. Only as an adult, did I learn they barely lived 30 miles from my hometown.
I thought they lived far away. I wish I would have known how close we were.
On Maundy Thursday, Jesus is aware of distance, of what is far away and what is close. He is aware that he is about to leave his disciples, to leave this sweet, old world and go to the Father. But even though they will end up betraying him, denying him, abandoning him, even in going away, he will stay close to them.
He will draw near.
He will draw near as he washes feet. He will draw near as he blesses bread and wine and tells them it is now his blood and his body. He will draw near, as he is raised on a cross.
He is going away, but he is also loving us to the end.
At the end, he will be with them. As the end approaches, though, the disciples will be scattered, from each other and Jesus and from their very selves.
When I was first elected bishop, the spouse of a bishop called Susan to welcome her to the bishop spouses’ community. Though I am sure the spouse of the bishop meant well, the phone call was upsetting to Susan.
You see, the bishop spouse was calling from a diocese out in the western United States. She suggested Susan get another dog because I would be gone all the time, I would be away every weekend on Sunday visitations. The diocese in question in the western United States included the entire state.
So, while I am at not good at judging distances, I am good at collecting maps. We got out the map of the Diocese of East Tennessee. I assured Susan most Sunday visitations would begin on early Sunday mornings. Driving from West Hills to Cedar Bluff would not require an overnight stay. Jerry Lee had no interest in his own emotional support dog.
We would stay close to each other.
A couple of years ago, I made a Sunday visitation to Johnson City. Up early for the visit, after the morning’s liturgy and festive reception, I began to drive home to Knoxville. I was coming home, home to St. John’s for an Evensong where I would serve as officiant. I had plenty of time to make the trip.
Until all the traffic on Interstate 81 came to a complete stop on both sides. A complete stop, with everyone turning off their engines. A two-car accident had just occurred.
It was remarkable how many of the first persons on the scene were former military medics or active nurses. They knew what to do. They called 911. They got their medical gear out of the trunk. They drew close to the injured.
I had no medical gear. I was wearing my collar. I got out of my car, but also stayed out of the way of the people who knew what to do.
I prayed. That is what I knew to do.
A fire truck arrived. Along with state police. And an ambulance. Despite all the help, despite all the heroics, there were no survivors. All this help was present, but two persons had died.
After the scene was cleared, someone asked if I could pray. So, we prayed for the dead and the living. We prayed for the helpers, for the people who ran towards the hurt. We prayed for everyone who had been present.
Then, we all drove away. I drove here, to St. John’s, to an Evensong, to participate, to officiate. I was supposed to be.
Near the end of the Evensong, the choir sang an anthem. It is entitled, One in Christ, by a British composer who publishes under the name, George Arthur.
The words of the anthem are taken from a post Communion prayer from the Church of England’s Common Worship. It includes these words—“While we were still far off, you met us in your Son and brought us home.” (click here to view video)
Upon hearing the anthem, I realized I was home. So, I began to cry. I came home to my body which was still out on I-81. Still in awe of those who had done their best to help. In grief for those who had died that day, possibly a long way from home, possibly just down the road.
That post communion prayer, in its entirety, is as follows—“Father of all, we give you thanks and praise that, when we were still far off, you met us in your Son and brought us home. Dying and living, he declared your love, gave us grace, and opened the gate of glory. May we who share Christ’s body live his risen life; we who drink his cup bring life to others; we whom the Spirit lights give light to the world. Keep us firm in the hope you have set before us so we and all your children shall be free and the whole earth live to praise your name, through Christ our Lord. Amen.”
From this evening’s Gospel–“And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself.”
Jesus knew where he was from. He knew how far he had traveled to be with us, to be in this world. He knew he had come from a long way away. But he also knew he was home, both here and there.
And he knew he was returning to God. He was returning to God, but not before there would be pain and rejection. No way of returning without going by the cross. In returning, however, he would remain with us, even though we do not know how to make sense of such a distance, such a closeness.
We simply are called to trust. We are called to trust that even his absence is filled with the shadowed grace of his presence.
“While we were still far off, you met us in your Son and brought us home.”
We were still far off. We had no idea just how far we were from home. Did we know we were exiles? Did we realize we were living in someone else’s land?
That’s not important to ponder now. Now, is the time to give thanks that we have been brought home. Jesus drew near, found us, and brought us here.
We belong here. Everyone belongs here. For God is here. God is our home.