“Little Things, Great Love” by the Rev. Don Wahlig, April 2, 2023, Year A / Palm / Passion Sunday – Matthew 21:1-11 and Matthew 26:14-28   

THEME:  Jesus welcomes us to his table, knowing that we will deny him and calling us to be agents of his grace and reconciliation in the world.

One of the striking things about Matthew’s gospel is that, with the exception of Jesus, there are no heroes. The closest we get is an unlikely group of deeply flawed followers. Nowhere is that more clear than in Matthew’s account of the last supper.

Picture the meal. There is Jesus at the table. Seated with him is Judas, who has already accepted 30 pieces of silver to betray Jesus to the authorities. Which he will do later that same night. Jesus knows Judas will do this and yet calls him ‘friend’ nonetheless.

Then there is Peter, disciple number one, spokesperson and leader of the gang. Peter talks a good game – “Lord, I will never betray you” – but Jesus knows Peter will do exactly that, and not once, but three times. This is the rock on which Jesus’ church will be built? What about the others, you ask? Well, later that night over on the Mount of Olives, not only will they fall asleep when Jesus needs them most, but when he is arrested, they will all run away. 

What struck me as I read this text again this week is that Jesus knows this is going to happen. And yet there he is, seated at the table for the Passover meal, giving them instructions for what you and I know as the sacrament of communion. The question I’ve been asking myself is why? Why would Jesus choose to eat the Passover meal with the very people who will shortly betray him? Wouldn’t he rather spend it in better company than that? Is that what you would do for your last meal on earth?

Then it occurred to me. They are there at that table with Jesus not because they have earned it, but because they need it.

They are a motley collection of broken people in the presence of the one who will reconcile and redeem them. When Jesus instructs them to remember him in the breaking of bread and the pouring of wine, he is giving them reassurance that they are still in his presence, still connected to him and to one another, even after he is gone and they are scattered. 

In giving them the gift of the Eucharist, he is giving them the salve that will heal the wounds of separation and division they don’t even know they have yet.

And that is not all Jesus is giving them. By breaking bread with his betrayers, Jesus is laying a foundation of ministry, a ministry of mercy, forgiveness, and reconciliation. It is the basis of his ministry. And it will become the basis of their ministry, too, even though they don’t know it yet.  Only when they have experienced their own brokenness and the forgiveness and reconciliation that Jesus offers, will they be fit to be his agents of reconciliation in the world. 

Friends, you and I are a lot like them. Haven’t we all felt the shame of denying Jesus in one way or another? There is an endless variety of ways that we do this, but in the end, they all boil down to the same two kinds of betrayal we see in Judas and Peter. For Judas, it was greed that led him to betray Jesus. For Peter, it was fear. It seems to me, as I look at my own life, the same two things are true.

In those moments when I am overly concerned about me and not as much about others, I tend to go off the rails. I act in ways that, upon reflection, I know are wrong. And I’m either disappointed or ashamed, or both. A similar thing happens in those moments when I act out of fear rather than love. I inevitably wind up doing or saying, or at least thinking things that would make Jesus shake his head and cringe. 

I’ll wager the same is true for you, friends. All our various denials of Jesus boil down to greed and fear – thinking of ourselves ahead of others, and allowing fear to crowd out love. That is what leads us to betray Jesus, just like the disciples did. 

That begs two questions: How do we learn to recognize those things in ourselves, and how do we change them?

The best way I know to recognize greed and fear in our lives is a method of reflective prayer that comes out of the spiritual tradition of Ignatius of Loyola. This prayer is called the Daily Examen. That’s a fancy name for a way of reflecting on our day in the presence of God each night before we go to bed. If you will look in your bulletin, you will see this in the announcements at the end.

Here is how it goes:

1. Give thanks to God. Spend a few moments in gratitude for his gifts and blessings each day.

2. Ask for light. Ask God to enlighten you, to show you what he wants you to see in the events, people, and places of your day.

3. Examine the day. Review the moments of your day that stand out. Then ask “In my interactions with other people, where did I reflect to others the grace, forgiveness, and reconciliation that Christ has shown me? In which moments did I obscure Christ’s self-giving love by acting out of greed or fear?

4. Seek forgiveness. Ask God's forgiveness for the times when you acted, spoke, or thought in ways that were contrary to God’s grace and his calling on your life to be Jesus’ disciple.

5. Resolve to change. Decide what in your thinking and behavior you will try to improve tomorrow with Christ’s help.

Try this Examen prayer when you go home tonight. Picture Jesus sitting on the couch with you, gently guiding your examen and encouraging you. When we do this, we will inevitably find ourselves in need of forgiveness. And we are by no means alone. 

A poignant illustration of that is a short story by the great American writer Ernest Hemingway. It’s called “The Capital of the World.” Hemingway tells the story of a father and his teenage son, whose name is Paco. Paco is an extremely common name in Spain, where the story is set. 

Paco is obsessed with becoming a bullfighter, something his father forbids him to do. But Paco is determined. He defies his father and runs away from their small town to the big city of Madrid. Paco’s father is crushed. After a few days with no sign of his son, he realizes Paco is serious, so he sets out to find him. He follows him all the way to Madrid, desperate to reconcile with his son. But how do you find someone in a city as large as Madrid? So, he decides to put an ad in the local newspaper with a simple phrase: “Paco, meet me at the Hotel Montana at Noon Tuesday. All is forgiven. Love, Papa.”

On Tuesday at noon the father arrives at the Hotel Montana and he cannot believe his eyes. The police have been called to control a crowd of eight hundred young men all named “Paco” and all seeking to be forgiven and reconciled with their fathers.

The point is that the world is full of people in need of forgiveness and reconciliation. Whether your name is Paco or Peter or Prudence or Penelope, that is exactly what Jesus offers us. You may think you are beyond forgiveness, but I assure you, you are not. Jesus’ mercy is far greater than our sin. 

I would not put it past Jesus to forgive even Judas. That is how deep and wide God’s gracious mercy runs. That is what we celebrate right here at this table – his table. In this feast of communion, Christ offers us nothing less than his mercy, forgiveness, and reconciliation with God.

But that self-giving love has to flow outward from this table. It cannot stop here. We have to repent and we have to respond. That is our ministry. In order to do that, we have to learn how to convert our greed and fear into self-giving and love. The question is how do we do that? How do we become more self-giving and loving?

Let’s start by realizing that it may not be what we think it is. Especially now, as we enter Holy Week, we tend to think of self-giving love as dramatic self-denial – like Jesus going to the cross on Good Friday. But self-giving love does not necessarily mean giving up ourselves entirely. In fact, the best place to start is by putting others first in small ways, doing little things with great love.

That can be as simple as encouraging a difficult work colleague who is having a tough day. Or it might mean being gentle and understanding when a busy breakfast waiter forgets your side-order of bacon and then writing a kind note on the bill. Or offering to help unload groceries or cut the grass for a grumpy older neighbor.

The world is full of people in need of forgiveness and reconciliation. Our job – our ministry – is to be the living sign that points others to Christ, the source of all reconciliation.

Who in your life do you need to forgive, or be forgiven by? With whom do you need to be reconciled?

Whoever that is, let’s be on the lookout for opportunities to do little things for them with great love. That is how we reflect Christ’s love.

May it be so.