The name by which we call this day . . . Maundy Thursday; . . . the name by which we call this day is a French memento of the conquest of England by the  Normans in 1066.  The French word is mandé, coming from the Latin word mandatum, which means “commandment”.  The English, resisting the idea of being “Normanized”, wantonly mangled the French language every chance they got, . . . and so we have maundy in place of mandé.  But by whatever name it’s known, on this day in particular -- on the day before we remember the crucifixion of our Lord Jesus Christ; . . . on Maundy Thursday we remember that “on the night He was handed over to suffering and death” . . . our Lord Jesus Christ gave us a number of commandments to keep.  . . . He gave us two, in fact.

    The first of our Lord’s commandments comes in the course of the meal which He eats with His disciples.  Saint Paul tells us about it:

the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, “This is my body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”  In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood.  Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.”

“Do this in remembrance of me.”  . . . That is the Lord’s first mandatum; . . . that is the first of the two commandments Jesus has given us on this day:  that when we break the bread and drink the cup of wine . . . we do it in remembrance of Jesus.  … Actually, Saint Paul says that Jesus told us to do these things “eis anamnesion”; “for the making present” of me:  . . . “This is my body which is for you.  Do this for the making present of me.  . . . This cup is the new covenant in my blood.  Do this, as often as you drink it, for the making present of me.”

    Now, why do you suppose Jesus gives us such a commandment?  . . . Well, shortly after Jesus washes the feet of His disciples and explains the meaning of what He has done, Saint John tells us, . . .

He was troubled in spirit, and testified, “Truly, truly, I say to you, one of you will betray me.”  The disciples looked at one another, uncertain of whom he spoke.  One of his disciples, whom Jesus loved, was lying close to the breast of Jesus . . . [and] he said to him, “Lord, who is it?”  Jesus answered, “It is he to whom I shall give this morsel when I have dipped it.” So when he had dipped the morsel, he gave it to Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot.  Then after the morsel, Satan entered into him.  . . . [and] he immediately went out; and it was night.  When he had gone out, Jesus said, “. . . A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; even as I have loved you, that you also love one another.  By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

. . . After Judas had received the morsel (of bread, I imagine) dipped in wine (perhaps); . . . after Judas had received the morsel that had been dipped . . . “Satan entered into him . . . and it was night”, Saint John says.  . . . Poor Judas, . . . so preoccupied with the important political matters that weigh upon his mind and so fascinated by the notion that had come into his heart to betray the Teacher for the sake of forcing God’s hand, . . . Judas is so self-absorbed with these “high” things that he is inattentive to his Teacher’s whimsies; . . . and, in that moment; . . . in that moment of inattention to Jesus . . . damnation comes upon Judas.  . . . Judas becomes filled with darkness; . . . “Satan entered into him”, Saint John says, . . . “and it was night.”  . . . And this is why Saint Paul is so urgent that

any one who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment upon himself.

Jesus has given us the Sacrament of His Body and His Blood so that He can be present to us; . . . Jesus has given us the Sacrament of His Body and Blood so that He can be present to us in an immediate way which can enlighten our minds and enliven our souls so that we are filled with the divine light which drives off the deforming darkness which waits to devour us because it hates God.  . . . And so, Jesus has commanded us to eat the Bread and to drink the Wine with intention; … He has commanded us to eat the Bread and to drink the Wine with the intention of making present the Son of God among us . . . and with us . . . and in us all.

    Jesus has given us this first mandatum to eat the Bread and drink of the Cup for the making present of Him . . . first, to fill us with light and make our lives sacred, but He has also given us this first commandment so that we might  keep His second commandment as well; . . . the one whose meaning He demonstrates by washing the disciples’ feet; the commandment Jesus speaks to His disciples once Judas had gone out:  . . . “that you love one another; even as I have loved you, that you also love one another.  By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”  . . . And what does it mean for us to love one another?  . . . Jesus says that it is to “do as I have done to you.”

    Some years back, when I was still at Saint Margaret’s House in New Hartford, I was in the Library there and someone’s newsletter, sitting on the table in the center of the room, caught my attention.  And the thing that caught my attention was a picture.  It was a picture of a child holding a sign which read “What Would Jesus Do?”  My impression was that the newsletter was aimed at Christian Youth, and that the question, “What Would Jesus Do?”, was intended to address any of a number of life decisions which young people must make fairly regularly.  But when I saw that picture I was reminded, once again, of my distaste for that gimmick of asking kids “What Would Jesus Do?”.  I was reminded of my distaste for the gimmick of telling young people to invent improbable fantasies about Jesus.  Because, you see, asking that question; . . . asking the question “What would Jesus do?” is a snare and a delusion.  It’s a snare and a delusion because it’s a speculative question that invites all sorts of unrealistic (and even dangerous) inventions.  . . . Because, the truth is that Jesus didn’t tell us to do what He would do; . . . Jesus has told us to do as He has done.

    That sort of discipline -- the discipline of asking “What has Jesus done?” -- … that sort of discipline narrows our choices.  It narrows our choices because it is constrained by the poverty, chastity, and obedience to the Father with which Jesus has been among us.  It constrains us to a lifestyle of a like simplicity to that of Jesus; . . . it constrains us to a lifestyle of a like chaste detachment from the demands of the world to embrace it, . . . the demands of our flesh to please it, . . . and the illusions of the devil that the world and the flesh have precedence over the Commandments of God; . . . and the discipline of asking “What has Jesus done?” constrains us, finally, to a focus like that of Jesus upon serving the Will of the Father.  To do as Jesus has done is to live as Jesus has lived; . . . it is to be before God as a servant who has utterly given herself to Him; . . . as a servant who has utterly given himself to God.  And as a consequence of this self-giving . . . such a servant utterly adores each one of God’s sons and daughters who do as Jesus has commanded:  who continually make Jesus present in their lives . . . and do as He has done.

    Can you do that?  Can you love one another so utterly as to do for one another as Christ has done:  to be obligated to one another by the Christ Who is present among us . . . and so, to wash one another’s feet; . . . to forgive the sins that cling to each of us by reason of our humanity, just as dirt clings to the feet as the unpleasant consequence of walking?  And can you do for the world; . . . can you do for all those egregious sinners as Jesus has done?  Can you encourage repentance . . . and model the simplicity, chastity, and obedience of God’s children?

    Can you do that?  Can you do as Jesus has done by loving and forgiving one another, and encouraging the world to repent?  . . . Probably not without help.  . . .   Which is why we remember Christ’s command of self-offering in the context of His command of Christ-receiving.  . . . Utterly giving yourself to Jesus, Whom you discern in the Bread and in the Cup, . . . you are better equipped to keep the second mandatum:  . . . to love one another for the Father’s sake as Christ has loved you for the sake of the Father.

    These are the two commandments, then; . . . the two mandata which we remember on this Thursday in Holy Week:  to discern Jesus in the eating of the Bread and the drinking of the Cup . . . and to do as Christ has done.  Never separate the two or become careless about them.  For, as we learn from poor Judas, and as Saint Paul has reminded us, . . . forgetfulness of either one of the Lord’s commands can imperil your soul.