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| The Upper Room in Jerusalem (now a mosque) |
Many people presume that the Passover meal that Jesus celebrated was a Seder Meal. I myself remember being in Catholic elementary school during Holy Week and having small Seder Meals in a classroom. I wasn’t a fan of the egg, but I did enjoy the matzoh, parsley and the charoseth (which was a mixture of apples, walnuts, cinnamon, and honey). Instead of real lamb, we had a paper lamb cut out for us (when I first tasted lamb many years later, I learned how truly disappointing it was to only have paper). But scholars, even Jewish scholars, that I have read, state that the Seder Meal originated sometime after the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem around the year of our Lord 70. So Jesus, at the Last Supper, most likely was not celebrating a Seder Meal. But, that’s not to say that the Passover didn’t have rituals. Indeed, our first reading starts to outline some of the rituals of the Passover meal.
Rituals are repeated actions, sometimes associated with religion. The beauty of ritual is that, for the most part, it’s not supposed to change. So the Apostles, gathered in the Upper Room with Jesus, had some idea of what was going to happen, even if it started out oddly, as it was a day earlier than the first Passover celebration was supposed to begin.
But those ideas were quickly shattered. Before the celebration begins, Jesus takes off his outer garments and serves the Apostles in the task usually reserved for the lowest slave. You can imagine the Apostles thinking, “It’s not supposed to be this way!” Peter is the only one who has the courage to actually say what’s on his mind: “‘Master, are you going to wash my feet?’” Jesus is the Master, the Messiah, the Anointed One of God who is supposed to lead Israel into a new kingdom of prosperity! What is Jesus doing? It’s not supposed to be this way!
And then, as they celebrate the Passover (in whatever way that happened), Jesus changes things. When it comes to the unleavened bread, Jesus changes the ritual and says, “Take this, all of you, and eat of it, for this is my Body.” And then when it comes to the wine, Jesus again changes the ritual, and says, “Take this, all of you, and drink from it, for this is the chalice of my Blood, the Blood of the new and eternal covenant, which will be poured out for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins. Do this is memory of me.” As they ate the Body of the Lord, and drank His Blood in the celebration of the first Eucharist, I can imagine them thinking, ‘It’s not supposed to be this way!’
After the first Eucharist, Jesus then has a beautiful prayer and conversation where He goes back and forth between a conversation with the Apostles and a conversation with His heavenly Father. We call this the Last Supper Discourse, and if you’re looking for a beautiful read tonight and tomorrow and Saturday, you can read the Gospel of John chapters 14-17. This was certainly not part of the Passover meal (you’ll get why if you read the chapters), and so probably the Apostles were thinking, ‘It’s not supposed to be this way!’
As I celebrate Mass tonight, the same thought is on my mind: it’s not supposed to be this way. The church is not supposed to be empty; there’s supposed to be the optional ritual of washing feet; there’s supposed to be a Eucharistic procession. None of that will happen. In fact, Cardinal Sarah, speaking for the Pope, had to give special permission for priests to celebrate this Mass with only one minister, as that has, from time immemorial, never been allowed. Don’t get me wrong: Jesus is still here, the bread and wine will still become His Body and Blood, but I think that we realize that it’s not supposed to be this way. The Mass of the Lord’s Supper is meant to be our special entering into the Lord’s Passion for all parishioners, not simply for the few who are necessary to pull off a beautiful, but minimal, celebration.
But what followed from that first Eucharist, administered by the hands of Jesus Himself? Salvation followed. Dark days, yes, but light, too. Suffering, intense suffering, but later, peace and joy. Death, a death unlike any before or any after, but also resurrection. All those came through a celebration that wasn’t supposed to be the way it happened.
So, what will follow from this year’s, “it’s not supposed to be this way”? Jesus is offering the same gifts, but our response will dictate whether or not we receive those gifts. Will we treasure our reception of the Eucharist, rather than simply see it as the weekly routine we go through? Will we prepare better for the celebration of the Eucharist, perhaps by confession, but always by quieting our hearts and minds to hear what the Lord wants to say to us? We will allow the Eucharist to transform us and change the way that we interact with each other after we leave Mass?
There are many tragedies during this time of pandemic. But the biggest tragedy of this time of fasting from public Mass in our churches will not be those who are infected or who have died, tragic as that truly is. The biggest tragedy of this time of fasting from public Mass will not be the economic changes that churches have to make to adapt. The biggest tragedy of this time when we cannot pray together in person in our parish church will be if, after all of this is over, we return to the same life we had before and not appreciate the sacrifice that Jesus allows us to share in every time we get to come to Mass by either not even coming when we don’t feel like it, or receiving the Eucharist in an unworthy state. Tonight Jesus teaches us: it’s not supposed to be that way.
