Sermon; Maundy Thursday 2026

Sometimes we can't believe what we are seeing.

Tonight we gather as friends to share a simple meal. We share good food with good friends in a special place. But there's a heaviness to this night.

Earlier this week Jesus had ridden into Jerusalem and was hailed as King of Israel. But then Jesus talks about wheat needing to die in the ground in order to bear fruit. He talks about the arrival of “his hour.” He talks about the judgment of the world. He talks about being lifted up from the earth in order to draw all people to him.

John tells us that Jesus knew he had come from God and was going to God. We are told that he knew who was going to betray him, and yet Jesus still tenderly washed Judas' feet and shared a meal with him. We hear that Jesus is troubled in spirit and hear his words to love one another as he has loved us. And Jesus will tell the disciples, “In a little while you will no longer see me, and again in a little while you will see me.”

There's a heaviness to this night and we can't quite believe what we are seeing.

Tonight we share this meal here, and we also will share the meal of Holy Communion. That is a meal we have shared many times over the course of our lives. But tonight is different. Tonight, instead of being a foretaste of the heavenly banquet, it is the final meal of a condemned man. Tonight we know Jesus will never again share in this meal with us until he comes into the kingdom, and we will never again share in this meal until the Day of Resurrection. We can't quite believe we are seeing the service of Holy Communion for the last time.

There's a heaviness to this night and we can't quite believe what we are seeing.

After this meal here, and after the meal of Holy Communion in there, we will watch as we remove Jesus from our presence. Jesus doesn't walk out on us . . . we desert him. We force him out of our lives. We remove all symbols reminding us of him from our presence. We remove his body from the house of the Lord. We are the ones who want this place empty. And, like witnessing a traumatic event, we can't stop watching.

We watch as the pulpit and lectern are left bare. We watch as crosses and flags are removed. We watch as Communion vessels, candles, and palms are taken away. We watch as the altar is stripped bare and the consecrated elements are taken away. We watch as we remove everything of meaning from this holy space. We watch as we remove Jesus from our presence. And as we do this, we have the audacity to say, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

We can't quite believe what we just saw. But believe it we must, for it wasn't Jesus or God who forsook us; it was we who forsook God. It is we who will remove God from our life.

Sometimes we just can't believe what we are seeing.