Holy Thursday - The Freedom of the Cross

Tonight, the day we celebrate begins with the cross of Christ. That might seem strange, since you might think tomorrow—the day of the Crucifixion—is when we focus on the cross. Today is the day of the Last Supper; we haven’t gotten to the cross yet. But the cross is the central event of all time and all reality. It is so powerful that the effects of that one moment touch every other moment in history.

What happens on the cross? On the cross, we witness the death of God. That’s an incredible thing to think about. It’s not just that Christ dies on the cross—God dies on the cross. Because Jesus Christ is God. His death is a complete self-giving, the pouring out of all His blood, of all His life. The life of God poured out across all time and all space.

That’s why, in our first reading—the account of the Passover—we hear how the Jewish people were instructed to put the blood of the lamb on their doorposts to protect them from the angel of death. How could the blood of an ordinary lamb protect from death, unless it was a participation in that sacrifice—Christ's sacrifice? The true Lamb, whose blood redeems the world. The effects of that sacrifice reach all the way back to the redemption of Israel, back to Adam and Eve—and forward to us. And they reach even into the event we celebrate tonight: the Last Supper.

This is a unique moment Christ shares with His disciples—on one hand, a celebration of the Jewish Passover; on the other hand, something entirely new. Because when Christ says at the Last Supper, “This is my body, given up for you,” in our earthly timeline, that sacrifice hasn’t happened yet. So how does that work?

It works because the effects of the cross are already present at the Last Supper. That meal is already a participation in the once-for-all, extraordinary sacrifice of God’s life for us. That’s the astonishing reality of Christ’s redemption—of what happens on the cross. It is this gift that we enter into tonight as we celebrate the institution of the Eucharist. We participate in redemption itself. We participate in the death of God.

This outpouring of God’s life and blood across all history changes everything—and yet, paradoxically, changes nothing. The world continues as it was. It isn’t fixed. It isn’t made perfect. Everything is not reset. We still experience the consequences of original sin. We still suffer. We still struggle. And yet, we are given a gift: the gift of redemption—if we are willing to accept it.

That’s what redemption means: that God's life and power are poured out on everything. And we have a choice. We can receive that love and live by it—or we can walk away. It’s up to us.

Adam and Eve were given a perfect world—and they had a choice. Their choice broke the world. We have been given a broken world—and we, too, have a choice: to follow that brokenness or to participate in its healing.

Tonight, that choice becomes especially vivid as we commemorate Christ washing the disciples’ feet. That’s something we’ve heard about so often, but I’m not sure we fully grasp it. It’s wild. God on His knees in front of His disciples—in front of each one of us—washing our feet. Performing the most humble, most menial task imaginable.

It’s the equivalent of God cleaning your bathroom. That’s how degrading, how lowly, that action would have been understood in their culture. It’s something that would make you say, “Get out of here—I can’t let you do that.” And yet, that’s exactly what Christ does. He gives us an example. He gives us an invitation.

Which way will you go? What will you choose?

Christ’s death offers us a path—a path of redemption. But we have the choice whether or not to walk it. Christ is offering us everything: happiness, peace, joy, fulfillment. All He asks is that we let go of ourselves.

But we resist. We cling to our addictions. We say, “I don’t want to give up this. I can’t give up that.” And yet we cling to those things instead of receiving the love of God, the peace that only He can give, the happiness that only comes from Him.

We would rather stay small, clinging to our illusions of freedom, than live truly free in this redeemed world—a world made new by Christ’s love and sacrifice. And yet, He has made a new way for us to live: a way of peace, a way of joy, a way of purpose and fulfillment. Not a path without suffering—Christ suffered immensely. And we will suffer. But it is a path where we can suffer with joy, with peace, and with love.

But again—it’s up to us. Will we accept His invitation to die to ourselves and live this new life?

Let us ask God tonight for the strength to say yes. Let us ask Him for the strength to begin living this new life, especially now, as we follow Him on His path of suffering. Let us remember what He did for us. And let us ask for the courage to receive His way of being—so that we might do likewise for others, and live in the peace and joy of His redemption.