Exodus 12:1–14; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; John 13:1–17,31b–35.

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our Strength and our Redeemer. Amen.

Today, with the reading from the Gospel about the Last Supper Jesus shared with his disciples, we enter the final day of Jesus’ earthly life.  Last Sunday was Palm Sunday, the day we remember Jesus being hailed as King as he rides into Jerusalem on a donkey. We know he is also riding to his death, with the cries of acclamation turning to cries for his blood.

Immediately before the passage in John, Jesus has been performing miracles and teaching the crowds, referring to himself as the Light, telling them that he would not be with them for much longer, and to make use of the Light, walk in the Light while they had it. In spite of this, most of the people didn’t believe that he was the Messiah, the one who was sent from God.  And so Jesus goes into the celebrations of the Passover, knowing this was to be his last day, knowing that his hour had come. In this setting, the meaning of ‘hour’ is much more than just that of chronological time, but contains within it also the meaning of fulfilment, completion: Jesus knew that his earthly ministry, what he had set out to do, what he had been sent to do, had been completed and would soon be fulfilled by his faithfulness even to death.

In the other Gospels it is during the Passover meal, this Last Supper, that Jesus institutes the Eucharist, the sharing of the bread and wine, but not in the Gospel of John. In John we have the foot washing described, the dialogues with Peter, the identification of Judas as the traitor, with Judas leaving the meal, and then, towards the end of the passage, Jesus addressing his disciples with the deeply affectionate term, ‘little children’, before Jesus gives his disciples his new commandment.

In what way was this commandment new? It is new in that it is based on a reciprocal love between Jesus and the disciples, which was referred to at the beginning of chapter 13 and also in the letters John wrote later : how much Jesus loved his disciples, the ones, as he said, he had been given. What is also new is the reciprocal ‘glorification’ of the Father and the Son, which is the background for the love between the disciples. “Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him.” (Jn 13:31)  That reciprocal and mutual glorification is expressed most fully and magnificently in Jesus’ final prayer that John records in chapter 17 of his Gospel. There Jesus prays, “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son that the Son may glorify you”, a prayer for the indescribably bright shining of the full display of divine love, with that picture of the interdependence of the Father and the Son, the endless and eternal give and take of their love.

Jesus explicitly prays that this same dynamic and mutuality, this same glory that he shares with his Father is what he longs for his followers to have with him, with God the Father and with one another - an extraordinary new relationship of complete intimacy with God for those who follow Jesus. In this we also see part of the pattern of the Trinity, God, the Three in One, with the give and take of the Father and Son, to be joined by the Spirit, the one Jesus promised that his Father would send after he had gone, the Comforter, the Spirit of Truth that would lead them in to all truth. The sense of all this is contained in the words Jesus speaks to his friends, in his attempt to help them to understand what he is about. If they love one another with the same love with which Jesus has loved them, then they will be showing that they are indeed his followers.

And so we turn to the events of that Thursday – the foot washing and the betrayal. What can we learn from this day? What was Jesus trying to teach his disciples?

Normally when Jews celebrated the Passover they would have had their slaves or servants washing the feet of the family and guests before the meal began, but this foot washing in John takes place after the meal has already started. We don’t know what the other disciples said, but as Jesus starts to wash his friends’ feet we hear a dialogue between him and Peter. At first Peter recoils from Jesus’ action – no I am not worthy – you washing my feet!? Never!! Jesus explains that if he does not wash Peter’s feet, Peter will have no part in him. Jesus hints at a symbolic relationship that he is instituting by the foot washing. Peter gets it, he thinks, and immediately says, well, if this is something special that you’re doing, then great, wash all of me! Peter wants to be part of Jesus so much that he doesn’t want any bit of himself left out of this special new relationship.

Jesus then further explains the symbolism of what he is doing by saying that for those who have washed, they only need to clean their feet and then they are clean all over. Those who are humble enough to receive what Jesus in his humility is ready to do for them, then they are the ones who are willing to accept the cleansing which Jesus’ submission to his death makes available. That is all that is needed. No other washing is needed; no other or further means of salvation are necessary. This cleansing by Jesus places upon Peter and the other disciples the obligation to reflect the love which has been shown to them, to reflect Jesus’ own gracious love in their relations with other one another and with other believers. …”Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.” Those of us today who want to have a part in Jesus are under the same obligation: “love one another as I have loved you.”

We move from the intimacy and revelation of the foot washing to the bitterness and sadness of the betrayal. Jesus was betrayed by one of his closest friends, but it is clear in this passage that this did not come as a surprise to Jesus.  He was expecting it and he even knew which one of his followers it would be who betrayed him. Even though he knew, it still caused Jesus deep distress and grief, and he tells Judas to go and do quickly what he is going to do.

This is not the only betrayal Jesus faces. Later on that night, Judas turns him over to the authorities, but after that, as the dawn of the next day, the day of the crucifixion, begins, Peter the brave, strong-willed man of action, ends up denying that he even knew Jesus, not once, but three times. After Jesus’ arrest and trial, Jesus faces further betrayals when all his friends desert him, except for his mother, his aunt also called Mary, Mary Magdalen, some other women and John.

After supper Jesus and the remaining disciples go to the Garden of Gethsemane, to pray, but only Jesus stays awake. His friends fall asleep and Jesus repeatedly tries to wake them, but it is too late. Judas appears in the Garden with the chief priest, scribes and elders and with a crowd brandishing clubs and swords. We can hardly begin to imagine what it must have been like for Jesus to feel so alone, deserted, betrayed by those he was closest to, those to whom he had entrusted his teaching, his insights, those who had seen him preach and heal and perform miracles; those with whom he had just shared bread and wine, whose feet he had washed; those whom he loved.

Because of the betrayal, this night is also a night of shame, shame and deep regret. Later, as the sun begins to rise the next morning, when the cock crows, Peter realises what he has done. He knows he’s blown it. It will not be all right. There will not be another chance to put things right or make it better. Perhaps we can possibly begin to imagine something of Peter’s sense of shame, hopelessness, self-loathing and despair.

It was fear, and cowardice, that had driven Peter to deny Jesus: breath-strangulating, personality-altering, wild, dry-mouthed fear. Fear so intense that it caused him to swear blind that he didn’t know his own best friend, that he’d never even met the person he loved and had been following for three years, the One he had thought he would be willing to defend with his life. Instead, Peter had deserted and betrayed Jesus.

Tonight, whether in this church or in our homes, let us keep vigil with Jesus and consider what it would have been like to be Peter or one of the other disciples. Three years down the drain, gone, in a flash. So much for all the teaching, the laughter, the meals, the travels, prayers, miracles, friendship.

Let us also consider what it would have been like for Jesus, knowing his hour had come, trusting in God, knowing the reciprocal glory and love - and yet sweating blood. Begging his friends to watch with him, dreading the living out of his calling. Still trusting, still conscious of having been sent, of being the One Isaiah prophesied about, ‘despised and rejected, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief’. Tonight we move from the meal and the tender washing to the Garden and then into the courtyard with Peter, and if we wait long enough we, too,  can hear the cock crow.