LAKE JAMES

NORTH CAROLINA

Maundy Thursday + 4/13/06 + St. Paul’s Church, Lake James

Thanks to the generosity of my wife, each week’s mail brings a copy of The New Yorker Magazine. Its cartoons are often hilarious, perhaps even worth the subscription price by themselves, but one aspect of that magazine is disturbing and that is its unabashed appeal to the wealthy. For example, many pages contain ads for fine restaurants, each proclaiming (in a dignified and refined way, of course) the culinary delights to be had by those wise enough (and rich enough) to go there. But then, one turns the page and is confronted by a picture of a starving child in an appeal for funds by the “Save The Children Federation” or a similar worthy charity. The juxtaposition is hard to take. Unsettling. Provocative.

Other contrasts also come to mind. For some of us, living in comfortable homes while the number of homeless people is rising sharply. Or the confident expectation of having nourishing meals every day while knowing that, all around the world, more and more people are hungry, some even starving to death.

On Maundy Thursday, it’s hard not to be struck by another contrast, the contrast between the meaningfulness of the gift for which today we thank God, that is, the Holy Eucharist, and the ignorance of that reality on the part of so many people. I can’t imagine being without the dimension of life which is brought by the worship of God, especially in the receiving of Holy Communion. Can you? Yet how many people today live lives in which both worship and Sacrament are considered to be unimportant, or simply ignored as if they don’t even exist!

Some years ago, a priest colleague wrote about the wonder of Jesus presiding at the Passover Seder, The Last Supper, and giving the Holy Eucharist to the Church, all the while knowing what lay just ahead for him! To know that death, his terrible execution, was just around the corner, and yet to have the kind of concern not only for his disciples, but also for all who would follow him through the ages of time, to be so invested in their needs, to be so invested in our needs, that’s overwhelming!

A few years ago, just at this time of year, I had occasion to visit a dear old friend. He was the son of a former Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, had grown up in the center of Church life and although he knew the institutional Church inside and out, he wound up as a believer anyway! As brother priests and therapists, he and I had worked together almost twenty years during which he had not only been a professional colleague whom I greatly respected, and a good friend, but even more, a priestly model for me. And now, he was in a hospital, dying. His heart was simply worn out and nothing could be done for him. He had but a short time left, something both he and I knew only too well. I went to the hospital to say “thank you,” to tell him how much I admired and loved him, and to say “good bye.” He was the last of the older generation of priests who had been my mentors and, with his death, that whole dimension of my life would be ended. Driving the hour and a half to the hospital seemed endless, filled with a heavy sadness – sadness which was as much about what would be my loss as it was about his approaching death.

Because he was so weak, I knew my visit had to be brief, but in the 15 or so minutes together, we talked about the past, remembering the many happy times we had shared. There was even a good bit of laughing which, I am sure, helped both of us. I stumbled through my words of gratitude to him for all he had been to me, and he accepted my message with obvious joy. But then he surprised me by thanking me for what I had done for him. I was amazed. That seemed so backwards to me. I knew what he had done for me, but it just hadn’t occurred to me that it might have been a two way street! He asked for my blessing and then asked me to help him by covering his feet with a nearby blanket, and sent me on my way. In contrast to the sad drive to the hospital, I drove home with a song of joy on my lips. Two days later, his wife called me to say that he had died, and I knew the very human mixture of tearful grief at his loss, and joy that he had gone home to the God he had served so faithfully and well for over 80 years.

In our last time together, my friend did what Jesus had done, being sensitive to the needs of others, even in the midst of his own pain. Not only will I never forget what Father Perry did for me, but, in sharing the story with you this evening, in a wonderful way his ministry is continued, just as Christ’s ministry is continued through the ages by the Church. M

My brothers and sisters in Christ, consider this: Jesus not only showed sensitivity to the needs of his followers, but more, asked them to do the same to others, ministering to them in His name. So today, as we gather to offer our gratitude to God for the awesome gift of the Holy Eucharist, we also thank God for the call which sends us out to serve others as “Christophers” – that is, as Christ-bearers.

It is right, good, and a very joyful thing to respond to Our Lord’s invitation to receive Him in the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar. It is a glorious thing to realize that we do so not alone, not merely in the company of those who may happen to be present at St. Paul’s Church for this or that Mass, but along with millions of fellow Christians all over the world and even more, with Angels, Archangels, and all the saints in heaven! Then, strengthened by that holy food, we go out into the world to bring and to live the message of God’s love, especially as we show forth that love in our service of others. How blessed we are to be invited to share in the Eucharistic banquet! How blessed we are to be called to the service of others in Christ’s holy Name! May our lives this Holy Week, this Eastertide, and beyond be daily “yeses” to God!

+ In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

The Rev’d Alfred T. K. Zadig, Sr.

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