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| The Last Supper ~ Joos Van Cleve ~ 1485 -1540 |
On the first day of Unleavened Bread, when the Passover lamb is sacrificed, Jesus' disciples said to him, "Where do you want us to go and make the preparations for you to eat the Passover?" So he sent two of his disciples, saying to them, "Go into the city, and a man carrying a jar of water will meet you; follow him, and wherever he enters, say to the owner of the house, 'The Teacher asks, 'Where is my guest room where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?' He will show you a large room upstairs, furnished and ready. Make preparations for us there." So the disciples set out and went to the city, and found everything as he had told them; and they prepared the Passover meal.
When it was evening, he came with the twelve. And when they had taken their places and were eating, Jesus said, "Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me, one who is eating with me." They began to be distressed and to say to him one after another, "Surely, not I?" He said to them, "It is one of the twelve, one who is dipping bread into the bowl with me. For the Son of Man goes as it is written of him, but woe to that one by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would be better for that one not to have been born."
While they were eating, he took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to them and said, "Take; this is my body." Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he gave it to them, and all of them drank from it. He said to them, "This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many. Truly tell you, I will never again drink of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God."
When they had sung the hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives. And Jesus said to them, "You will all become deserters; for it is written, 'I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered." But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee." (Mark 14: 12-28)
Do we remember earlier (Mark 11:1-2) when Jesus told the disciples they would find a donkey they could use for his Jerusalem entrance? Here he tells them to follow the man carrying a water jar. Jesus seems to have a knowledge of future events. Notice too that a man carrying water is unusual; in the ancient world water-carrying is women's work. All of this in preparation for the upstairs dinner, a dinner he will eat not with his family, as was the custom, but with them. Jesus is forming a new family, bigger than blood relations.
Jesus is referred to as the teacher. We must pay attention to the lesson then, even in its details. After the bread is passed, is Jesus teaching us something new: instead of each disciple drinking from his own cup, there is one cup passed among them all.
Jesus is preparing the disciples for his death. He speaks of betrayal, and denial. He makes a psalm-reference to an enemy and a divine curse which is really a claim that he will be raised up and delivered. The blessing words over the bread and cup foreshadow his death.
But there is more. This meal anticipates the meal (a heavenly banquet) which will take place when Jesus returns and brings in God's full reign over all creation. I knew a non-believing doctor who worked in a Catholic hospital and who one night wandered into the hospital chapel and carefully observed the Stations of the Cross on the walls. "How ridiculous, a God who dies," he said.
I suppose, instead of jumping to defend against that claim, one could accept it and come to love Jesus precisely because, as the world goes, he is ridiculous: Jesus, who told us about a shepherd who had a big flock of one hundred sheep and who left them vulnerable to go in search of the one that got lost. That's ridiculous. Or the ridiculousness of a woman who had ten coins, but who lost one and ripped the place apart until she found it. And here, the ridiculousness of Jesus, who is starting a new family, a new spiritual way that is sealed not with a kiss, but with his spent blood. And that spent blood he tells us is, "for the many," which is the Aramaic way of saying, for all. I mean, really: the folks who don't make the cut, who aren't on the honor roll, who don't win the golden whatever, who aren't on the A list, who don't merit citations - searching them out for love!?
This Last Supper scene isn't just about the twelve disciples, but it's about us. I'm invited to take my place at the table too. Jesus knows the betrayer and the denier are at the table. And the two disciples who argued about seats of honor at Jesus' left and right; they're there. And Jesus' references that later that same night they'll all run away from him. So it's not a table of perfect people by any means.
In my meditation, where do I seat myself? Anywhere is fine really. But what matters is that the seat next to me is empty. Remember, I am sitting at the table of Jesus-the-Ridiculous. The table is my heart. Our country loves to talk about winners and losers, who's in and who's out, who matters and who doesn't. So who sits down next to me? Think of the news. Even think of what we call politics - which it isn't really. How do I feel? And do I care that I'll be labeled ridiculous or worse, even by other Christians?
