The Greatest
“When the hour had come…”
This moment with Jesus and his disciples is central to our identity as Episcopalian Christians and, truthfully, to all those denominations who offer the bread and wine to God. These words of institution echo in our liturgy and, for many, echo in our hearts as we gather to do this in memory of him. Also, this particular portion of scripture is a trap. Yes, it is the moment that Jesus offers his body and blood to his disciples, who have pledged themselves to his way. But almost immediately after receiving this profound gift of oblation that Christ makes to the disciples, they begin to argue about greatness.
It seems deeply ironic that the disciples want to go there. How on earth can they ask who among them is the greatest? Notably, this dispute arises among the disciples only, as Jesus is not involved initially. Either they’ve moved off into a corner where they hope Jesus won’t overhear, or Jesus waits silently as this teachable moment develops. In either case, the disciples have not stopped to ask how much Jesus is willing to do for them and us.
We like to argue about greatness. We like to argue about who has the best and brightest toys, regardless of age (let the reader understand). We talk about the best football teams, burgers, and casserole at Thanksgiving or Christmas and complain when that recipe isn’t made. We like to argue about personal greatness as well. Very little separates the disciples that we are from the disciples that Jesus walked the earth with outside of time and space, and even those are negotiable, but I digress. But I wonder if we are still arguing like the disciples did about who among is the best, brightest, and most worthy.
Jesus gives us himself. Body and soul. This meal that he shares with the disciples is the same one we share continually until he returns. The argument should never have begun when dinner was ended with This is my body; this is my blood. They are who they are and so are we. Human nature hasn’t changed at all in two thousand years.
We should pipe down until we are ready to do what Jesus did. And to be perfectly clear, what Jesus did was to lay it all on the line for his friends. Jesus was ready and truly willing to surrender it all into the hands of God, saying, “Not my will but yours be done.” Jesus made a complete offering of himself in abject humility for the sake of others, even those he did not know and those who hadn’t even been born. Until we are ready to make a sacrifice like that or one on that level, we would do well to let all mortal flesh keep silence regarding greatness. The greatest has come, has given it all for us, and calls us to himself. The position is not vacant; we need not apply.
Fr. Tyler Richards, Rector, St. Anne’s Episcopal Church De Pere, Wisconsin