THURSDAY: BREAD, WINE, DEATH AND LIFE

Suggested Reading: Mark 14.12-26; Romans 8.31-39

On Thursday evening, Jesus sat with his disciples, gave thanks, broke the bread and said, “This is my body given for you…” (Luke 22.19). He then took a cup of wine and said, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you” (Luke 22.20). While these words may be common for us today; when they were first spoken they were ground breaking.

Jesus introduced his disciples to the reality that sometimes death brings life.

This time the broken body, the spilled blood and the death would be his. And in a way no one expected – that death would bring life. This is the great mystery of the Eucharist, and something we remember and proclaim each time we participate in it.

Several weeks ago, on Ash Wednesday, my friend Luis looked me in the eyes and said, “From dust you have come and to dust you will return,” as he smeared ashes on my head in the shape of a cross. Luis reminded me I am broken, I have darkness within me and I too will one day die and be buried. But the ashes and the words he spoke to me were liberating. Because in this moment of acknowledging my own mortality; the light of life within me flickered a little brighter.

This is how it is in the Kingdom of Heaven. It has the audacity to claim that death is the very thing that brings life. This was seen in the death of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. He was assassinated just over forty-six years ago. His murderer intended to silence the voice of Dr. King, and halt a movement. But what the assassin, and those who wanted King dead, didn’t know is that his death wouldn’t stop anything. More than a year before King was killed he said in an interview, “I feel though, that my cause is so right, so moral, that if I should lose my life, in some way it would aid the cause.” Dr. King knew that sometimes death brings life.

This is what we are reminded of each time we participate in Eucharist. We break the bread, as the body that was broken for the healing of the world. We drink the wine as the blood that was poured out for the renewal of the world. When we do this, we proclaim the death of Jesus, and declare that death brings life. This is in stark contrast to our normal way of thinking.

We believe that death brings … well, death. That’s it. Finished. Done. Over. Gone. This is the pattern we observe in our world.

Over the last several weeks here in Denver we have experienced a lot of sun and warmth. There are buds on the trees, flowers are fighting their way out of the soil and weeds are crawling through the cracks of driveways. Spring is springing; it’s the beginning of life. We experience this and know all the new life we see right now will die. In a few months, the cold will, once again, descend on us, the leaves will fall, weeds will wither and flowers will be clipped. We begin with life and end with death.

However, the cross tells a new story. Death no longer has the last word. In fact, death is the beginning, for death brings life. Death can “aid the cause” not end it. This is what Paul mean when he quoted the Psalmist in Romans 8 saying, “For your sake we face death all day long;
 we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered,” (Romans 8.36). He finishes this thought by writing, “But in all these things we win a sweeping victory through the one who loved us,” (Romans 8.37, CEB).

Being “put to death” wins a “sweeping victory?”

These words from Paul reflected his understanding of the new reality brought “through the one who loved us.” This is our reality, and it changes everything. Jesus, stared down the powers of sin and death and said, “Do your worst.” And they did. But he came out the other side alive. Death no longer had the final say, because death gave birth to life.

This mystery is throughout the scriptures. It is heard in the words of Jesus when he said, “… unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds,” (John 12.23). Jesus taught death brings forth life. Its’ this mystery, this upside-down story, that tells us that life, not death, has the last word. This is the real story that’s being told in history. As Martin Buber teaches,“The victories that we typically honor and celebrate are not the truest victories. The triumphs that capture our attention and that we herald so much are nothing more than stage-dressing for the larger story of human history. If we keep our eyes fixed on the foreground, the true victories, won in secret, sometimes look like defeats. True victories happen slowly and imperceptibly, but they have far reaching effects. In the limelight, our faith that God is the Lord of history may sometimes appear ludicrous; but there is something secret in history that confirms our faith” (From - If Not Now, When?)

Paul can say being put to death brings sweeping victory. Dr. King can say his death would aid the cause of liberation and equality. And the Eucharist teaches us we are free to die so that we can finally live. This is what we proclaim each time we participate in the Eucharist.  And the invitation for the people of God is to be is to be those who, like Jesus, are broken and poured out for our world. While this may look and sound like defeat, may we not forget this is the true victory. It is then we become a living Eucharist; a means of grace in which we proclaim, with Jesus, that death brings life, because, after all is said and done - life that has the last word.