NO HANDS BUT YOURS

A Sermon for Maundy Thursday
April 5, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry


John 13:34-35
I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. (New Revised Standard Version)





Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

There is an old story about a statue of Jesus that stood outside a small village in Normandy. It was wrecked by the shelling during the war . Well, it wasn’t totally destroyed, but the hands were. And this statue was the pride and joy of the village and so after the war, the villagers debated at length on what to do about the damage. One group argued that it was so badly damaged that it should be trashed and a new one erected it its place. Another group objected, arguing that the village artisan—whose specialty was the restoration—could easily take care of the job. Finally, a third group came up with a proposal that ultimately carried the day: that the statue be cleaned up, but remain handless; and that a plaque be placed at its base with the inscription: “I have no hands but yours.”

When I think of this Maundy Thursday gospel lesson from John, I always think of this story. This is, indeed, Jesus’ message to his disciples and to us: I have no hands but yours.

It is clear from John’s Gospel that Jesus knows exactly what is about to befall him—not one of the coming events will take him by surprise. Knowing it is their last evening together, Jesus has a lot to tell his disciples in these final hours. So how does he begin this important last supper together? By washing their feet! This is an unbelievably humble thing to do—for to do so, Jesus behaves like a slave and not just any slave, but the lowest slave in the household. It is shocking for the disciples to see Jesus take on such a lowly role. So why, why would he do such a thing?

Jesus explains a few verses later when he tells them: I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. Not only is his foot-washing stunt an example of humility and love for us, but it foreshadows his final act of love: his self-sacrificial death on the cross. Jesus does not beat around the bush. He commands his disciples to love in the same way that he has loved. And why wouldn’t he? His whole life centered around this message. The love of Christians for all people should be the distinguishing mark by which the world recognizes them as followers of Jesus.

So if Jesus’ commandment is so clear: that we are to love one another, why aren’t we Christians more focused on that task? Why is it that this priority sometimes take a back seat to less important issues—even within the church? How is the world going to know that we are Christians if we do not love? This annual service of Maundy Thursday is always an important reminder that love is our highest calling.

There was a movie that came out in 1996 called “Marvin’s Room.” Diane Keaton got an Oscar nomination for her role in this film. Her character, Bessie, is a middle-aged woman who has spent twenty years of her life being the sole caretaker of her ill father and an ailing aunt. Then she finds out that she, too, is ill—she is suffering from leukemia, and with no available bone marrow donor, she realizes she won’t be able to care for her family by herself anymore. Even in this moment of painful realization, Bessie’s voice trembles with joy as she says to her sister, “I have had so much love in my life.” Her sister patronizingly responds, “Yes, Bessie, there are a lot of people who love you.” But Bessie says, “No I mean, I have given so much love.” Bessie’s life was full—it was overflowing with love because she had given so much love. She became the hands of Christ to her family and friends, she took on the servant’s role and this is what filled her life with meaning and love.

Following Jesus’ command to love one another is perhaps the most difficult undertaking of our lives. And it is easy for us to get hurt when we strive to be loving. It is a dangerous business—we cannot do it without God’s help. In the popular children’s book, The Velveteen Rabbit, by Margery Williams, there is a profound conversation between a toy rabbit and a skin horse:

“What is REAL?” asks the Rabbit one day. The horse replies, “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.” “Does it hurt?” The Rabbit asks. “Sometimes,” responds the horse with honesty. “It doesn’t happen all at once,” says the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

Like the Velveteen Rabbit, we too can get pretty ragged in the business of love, but when we are in God’s wonderful will for our lives, it doesn’t matter. It makes us real!

There is no greater calling than to be Christ’s hands—to love one another, generously, recklessly, without counting the cost. That’s why Jesus spent his very last evening on earth washing his disciples feet and emphatically issuing this new commandment—a commandment which speaks to us as loudly today as it did then. It compels us to invite God to fill our hearts with love, that we may share it with our hurting world.

As we move further into our Holy Week journey with Jesus to the cross, may we recognize that the central ideal which he held up was this mandate to love. May we seek to promote this ideal with our lives, too. May we have the courage to embody the compassion of God wherever and whenever we can, for Christ has ascended and it now up to his followers to carry on his work. And so tonight, he says to us, “I have no hands but yours.” Amen.

May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.


© Laura E. Gentry 2007