Maundy Thursday Monologues - Simon the Zealot

Holy Thursday Monologue – Simon the Zealot

If you read your Bible in the Gospel of Matthew chapter 10, or Mark chapter 3, you will find there a list of the disciples who followed Jesus.  In that list, you find the name Simon the Cananean.   That’s me.  Luke lists me differently.  He calls me, Simon the Zealot. 

You think you know all the disciples.  James and John were fishing brothers.  So were Peter and Andrew.  Nathaniel, he was the straight shooter.  Whatever was on his mind, he said.  Philip, well, he was a kid.  He and John and Andrew, they were pretty wet behind the ears. I am not much older them, but I had seen things they had not. 

Thomas what a brain on that guy.  He was always thinking, always questioning.  I know he came to be called a “doubter.”  He was much more than that.  He was a thinker.

I think Matthew had the most fun of all the disciples.  That guy could party, almost as much Jesus. 

Of course history shows that Judas Iscariot was a schemer.  We didn’t know it at the time.  We thought he was a brilliant in practical thinking as Thomas was in theoretical thinking.  We deferred to Judas because he was so confidant. 

In some ways he and I were kindred spirits.  Both Judas Iscariot and I were committed to the overthrow of the Romans and the overthrow the corrupt leadership in the temple.  He talked and made strategies and argued with Jesus.  He always thought he knew better than Jesus what we ought to do.  And then Jesus would work a miracle and Judas would shut up and fall in line.

For my part, I was not interested in Peter’s outbursts or Judas’ scheming or Thomas’ philosophy or Nathaniel’s mouth.  I like Matthew’s parties, but even that, I thought, was the wrong priority.  Before I followed Jesus, I was party of a group of revolutionaries.  We weren’t Sicarii.  We did not commit assassinations.  But, we watched closely because we thought the Messiah was coming to call us to arms.  We were ready.

I was at the wedding in Cana when Jesus turned water into wine.  I knew what happened.  So, I left some of my Zealot pals behind and started following Jesus.  I didn’t even realize he noticed me, and then he asked me to be one of his 12 disciples – like the 12 tribes.  Yes, I was sure, he was going to restore Israel to the people of God.

But boy did I have trouble with some of his teaching.  Turn the other cheek?  Love your enemy?  I didn’t understand and he could see that.  He knew how frustrated I was.  He didn’t kick me out.  Neither did he make it any easier on me.  I did not confront him like Peter.  I did not question like Thomas.  I didn’t argue with him the way Judas did.  But sometimes I wanted to.

Things were really heating up when we came to Jerusalem for the Passover.  His confrontations with legalists and priests were edgier.  We were all tense.  Then, when we gathered for the meal in that upper room, well, I can’t describe it.  When he took the wine and said, “This is the new covenant that is my blood,” everything changed.  That night, I could not have told you how, but something happened when he said that and we were never the same.

Later on, when the soldiers came to arrest him in the garden, I just ran.  I don’t even know why.  I, who had been so eager to fight the Roman and fight injustice; when the fight came I ran.  Thinking back now to the wine, the new covenant, it is like I was empty and full all at the same time. 

I haven’t picked up a sword since.  Oh, I’ve used knives and axes, as tools.  But since I followed Jesus, I who had built my life on being a revolutionary, never again thought about fighting or killing anyone.  You follow him, it will change you.  It did me.

I think it about it every time I drink that wine.

Maundy Thursday Monologues - Simon Peter

http://captainsacrament.blogspot.com/2004/04/maundy-thursday-2004.html

My name is Simon Peter.

You know me from the stories about me in the Bible.  You know I was the one to walk on water to Jesus.  Well, I walked until I sank and Jesus pulled me out.

I’m the one Jesus trusted with the keys to the Kingdom.  It was also to me that Jesus said, “Get behind, Satan.”  He said that when I tried to talk him out of going to the cross.

When they came arrest him, I whipped out a sword and start swinging.  I was there, when Jesus said ‘turn the other cheek.’  But in that moment in the garden, I just forgot.  I started swinging the sword and Jesus healed the man I hit.  Then he was arrested and I ran.  To my shame, I denied knowing him just as he predicted I would.

After he rose, he forgave me.  He restored me as one of his followers.

Now, it’s been many years.  I don’t how I’ve survived this long.  James was beheaded by Herod.  John was exiled to Patmos.  Stephen was stoned to death.  I carry on.  Now, I lead the church at Rome. 

We tell a lot of stories this time of year.  We tell these stories to remember the death and new life of our King and to remember who we are. 

This night is Passover.  When we celebrate, we remember that we were created by God’s saving act. Our Master Jesus became the Passover lamb, sacrificed for us, and by his resurrection saved us from the darkness of sin. Many of you who were not of Israel became his because of this. We have been created by his saving act.

Tonight, I remember clearly that Passover before everything happened.  It was the night he was betrayed – by all of us. We gathered in an upper room to share the meal. Our feet had gotten dusty, and needed to be washed before we gathered at table. We were talking, cutting up and just enjoying being together. It had been a dark week, and we needed to celebrate.

But then we suddenly quieted; we could have heard a feather hit the ground. Not many things can silence a room of rambunctious fishermen. I looked about to see what had happened. Jesus had taken off his robe and put on a towel. He filled a basin and began to wash our feet. We were completely speechless, and I was incensed. We had gathered to celebrate our identity as the free people of God, and he was doing what would have been disgraceful even for a slave!

I asked him just what he thought he was doing. “You don’t understand now,” he said, “but later, you will.” I refused him: “You’re never going to wash my feet!” He was patient and adamant as always. “If I don’t do this, you can’t be my disciple.”

I was shattered. I had spent three years of my life with this man, given up everything to follow him. But... if refusing this meant refusing him, I had missed something. I loved him, so I obeyed, even though I didn’t understand.

As the rough hands of the carpenter cradled the rougher feet of this fisherman, I was struck by the tenderness of the act. Feet are very basic things, right? They’re just there. But as his fingers moved between my toes to wash, I was devastated by the intimacy. I began to understand. On that night in a little room in Jerusalem, just before all hell would break loose, this is what it meant to love us to the end. He was dedicated to me and to each of us. There were no lengths to which he would not go to love us, heal us, and set us free. This lowly service showed me the very heart of God.

He told us that this would be the pattern for our lives. This is a symbol of how he bears us up in all of our sins, failings and idiosyncrasies.

We remember this tonight. We confess our needs and submit to his washing—submit to his tenderness. We will leave and remember that our brothers and sisters have dusty feet also. We will wash them.

So in this story, learn who you are.  Let the Lord be with you in the weak places, in the dirt. Then go, take up your basin and towel, and be who you are.

In the name of Christ. Amen.

Maundy Thursday Monologues - Thomas

Doubting Thomas: Monologue

‘Doubting Thomas’? Yes, that’s me! Do I mind being called that? I suppose it could be galling to have gone down in history as a doubter, but in a way I’m glad, you know. How can I explain?

You see, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with doubts. Oh, I’m not talking here about the excuses we palm off as doubts: it’s not the same as uninformed prejudice, a sense of guilt or the fear of change. No, I’m thinking about good, honest questions. There’s a lot to be said for them, in my opinion.

Some of the other disciples never really understood that. Maybe they were just upset with me for not believing them - but then they’d already seen Jesus alive, you see. I hadn’t.

Anyway, as I told them at the time, all this stuff about Jesus rising from the dead was just too important to accept uncritically.  What if it was all just a cruel joke, or they’d imagined it all, had group delusions or whatever you call it? We loved him so much, you see…We’d followed him; listened to him; eaten with him; shared our lives. Seeing him die was worse than anything I’d ever experienced – worse than anything I WILL ever go through, I dare say. And we were desperate: grief-stricken; lonely; terrified. Of course I WANTED it to be true! But how could I be certain without seeing him for myself?

Being a Christian is no bed of roses, I can tell you, and I could never have coped with the past few years if all I had to go on was a faded dream or a vague hope. But Jesus, he put up with me and my doubts.  He gave what I needed and took me beyond what I thought I could become.  I ended traveling all the way to the nation you know as India and establishing the Christian faith there.

That all came after the resurrection.  On the night of the Passover meal, before Jesus was arrested, none of knew what was coming.  He held the bread of Passover up before us and said, “This is my body, broken for you.”  What did that mean?  We didn’t know. 

He got on his knees to wash our feet. What was he doing?  Peter, as always, speaking without thinking, argued with Jesus and then did what he said.  Judas, slipped out after the foot washing.  I was never sure about what he was up to.  He always seemed to his own agenda on the side.  I had no idea he was set to betray Jesus that night.  No idea at all.

I didn’t have any side agenda.  I had side conversation.  That night Matthew had the misfortune of sitting beside me.

“What’s he doing?”  I asked Matthew.  He told me to ‘let it go.’ 

“What’s he talking about?” I asked when Jesus said the bit about not drinking the fruit of the vine again until he drank it in the Kingdom.  I was pestering Matthew with questions.   

That Matthew!  So good with numbers and money, but he never questioned anything.  If Jesus said he was the bread of life, Matthew just accepted it. I knew he didn’t understand it.  None of us did.  But not understanding didn’t bother Matthew. 

If I understood, I would go to the ends of the earth for Jesus.  And in the end I did.  At least India seems likes the opposite end of the earth from Jerusalem.  But that night, the night of the Passover, I lost all my boldness. 

We all acted so tough.  “No, no Jesus, we won’t betray you.  We’re with you to the end.”  We all said that.  James the rugged fisherman; Simon, the wanna-be rebel; the all-too-honest Nathaniel.  We were all so courageous in our own minds.  At least Peter picked up a sword before he fled into the night. But in the end, that’s what we all did.  We ran just like Jesus knew we would. 

But, after it was all over, he welcomed us back.  That’s what Jesus does.  He takes you at your worst and helps you become your best.  Now, whenever I lead a church in worship and I break the bread before the congregation and together, we drink the wine, I remember that night.  I also remember seeing Jesus a few days later.  And I remember him loving me in my doubts.  And I remember him changing the direction of my life. 

That’s Jesus.  He turns us around.  

Maundy Thursday Monologues: Martha

Monologue for Maundy Thursday

HillSong Church, 4-13-17

My name is Martha.

You may have heard of me.  But you probably haven’t heard from me.  When the Master, that is, Jesus, came to Jerusalem, he often stayed with our family.  That’s my sister Mary, my brother Lazarus, and me.  When he came, crowds came with him.  We were happy to be hosts, but it was a lot of work.  I felt like I was constantly cooking and then cleaning and then doing the wash, and then cooking again. 

Often, I felt like it was just me.  Lazarus of course reclined with the men to hear Jesus teach.  And so did Mary!  A woman is to manage the home and make sure everyone is cared for.  What did Mary do?  She sat with the men, taking in the Master’s teaching.

I complained to Jesus about – once.  He said Mary chose the better part, leaving me all the work.  She often has that faraway look in her eyes, like she knows something the rest of us don’t know.  It’s like there’s music playing only Mary can hear.  It might be true, but that doesn’t get the dishes washed or the meal cooked.  Jesus said Mary made the right choice.

See if I speak up again!  Actually, Jesus has always encouraged me to speak.  He treats us with a respect no other man have ever given woman.  I do love him deeply.  And like everyone else, I am amazed by him.  I was there when he brought my brother Lazarus back to life.  We all believed the resurrection would come for everyone on the last day.  He raised Lazarus and after he did that, I wasn’t sure what to think.

I know Jesus has tremendous power and I know he is very close to God.  But he says things I don’t understand.  He said to me “I am the Resurrection and the Life and who believes in me will never die.”  What does that even mean? 

Tonight, I am especially worried.  There’s something in the air.  Normally, this is the kind of thing Mary would fret about.  In fact she has been, not exactly fretting, but … She’s been staring into the distance, toward Jerusalem.  Her gaze pierces the wind as she goes away in her head.  Normally, I would say that’s just Mary being Mary, but here’s the thing.  I feel it too.

Tonight is the Passover meal.  We were going to have Jesus and disciple to our house, but he’s meeting somewhere else, in the home of a disciple I don’t know.  I thought I knew all who followed the Master. 

The disciples have been acting funny.  Yesterday, I asked Nathanial about it, but he just joked and complimented me on my soup.  This morning, I said something to John.  He admitted something is up, but he said he didn’t know what.

The Romans have increased their guard in the city.  And the high priest in temple is on edge.  Everyone can feel it.  Something is going to happen, tonight, and I know it has something to do with Jesus.  I just don’t know what.  I do wish he were having the Passover here.

I have to make bread and get the wine ready.  Our old uncle and some cousins are coming.  We have to get ready.

(Exits stage with a look of worry)

Maundy Thursday

The Last Supper Examination

1 Corinthians 11:27-29

²⁷ Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be answerable for the body and blood of the Lord. ²⁸ Examine yourselves, and only then eat of the bread and drink of the cup. ²⁹ For all who eat and drink^[h] without discerning the body,^[i] eat and drink judgment against themselves.

            I have seen in church life the words of Paul misused terribly at the Communion table.  “Examine yourselves,” says Paul.  “All who eat and drink without discerning the body eat and drink judgment against themselves.”  No one wants to bring judgment down his or her own head, but what does it even mean to discern the body?  If I don’t know what it means, how can I make sure I do it in such a way that I don’t bring judgment down on myself?

            I have known people in church who are certain they know exactly what Paul is saying.  These sure-minded believers read 1^st Corinthians 11, and they feel they know who can and cannot take the bread and the cup.  Oddly, they always point out why others should not take Communion.  But they don’t check themselves.  They are quick to disqualify others, but they always participate.

            Is the Communion table the place for judgment and restriction?  The meal Jesus shared with his disciples was the last supper before he was crucified.  Why did he die?  Because we are all sinners in need of God’s grace. 

I am not suggesting we should be flippant about the Lord’s Supper.  It is very significant and serious.  I am not saying the ceremony in and of itself is enough.  Doing a religious rite like taking Communion does not save, but rather it points to our salvation.  I am not supposing that we can eat and drink at this table without regarding our behavior when we are away from it.  Repentance must accompany our participation in Communion and repentance is only real when it is seen in our relationships in daily life. 

I am simply saying that we need to be careful when thinking about putting a restrictive fence around the Communion table.  Jesus came inviting the world to come to him.  We are invited to the Lord while we are still in our sin.  The broken bread, Jesus’ broken body, and the red wine or juice, Jesus’ spilled blood, both show how sinful we are and how much we need Him.

For a deeper understanding of what Paul was saying when he wrote that we have to examine ourselves and discern the body, I think it helps to turn to the Gospel of Luke.

Luke 22:24-34

²⁴ A dispute also arose among them as to which one of them was to be regarded as the greatest.²⁵ But he said to them, “The kings of the Gentiles lord it over them; and those in authority over them are called benefactors. ²⁶ But not so with you; rather the greatest among you must become like the youngest, and the leader like one who serves. ²⁷ For who is greater, the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one at the table? But I am among you as one who serves.

²⁸ “You are those who have stood by me in my trials; ²⁹ and I confer on you, just as my Father has conferred on me, a kingdom, ³⁰ so that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom, and you will sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel.

³¹ “Simon, Simon, listen! Satan has demanded^[e] to sift all of you like wheat, ³² but I have prayed for you that your own faith may not fail; and you, when once you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.” ³³ And he said to him, “Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death!” ³⁴ Jesus^[f]said, “I tell you, Peter, the cock will not crow this day, until you have denied three times that you know me.”

            In the phrase, “Kings of the Gentiles,” Jesus refers to those who have not turned to him.  People who do not follow Jesus have not acknowledged their need for God and have not accepted God’s grace.  They are not in the kingdom but in the world, living by the standards of the world.  Those standards include the quest for power and the eagerness to hold power over others.  True relationships of trust and love are impossible when we are driven by power.  In the world, we are out to advance ourselves at the expense of those around us.  It is very Darwinian.  Our betterment is directly tied to the regression of our neighbors. 

            “Not so with you,” Jesus says.  “The greatest among you must become like the youngest, and the leader like one who serves” (v.26).  In the Gentile world, the world that is not God’s Kingdom, we strive to be served by those we deem beneath us.  But, Jesus turns that hierarchical economy upside down.  In His Kingdom, greatness is seen in us serving each other.  The Lord, the one we worship and follow, Jesus, says, “I am among you as one who serves.”  One way of examining ourselves as we come to the table is to look at our lives and see those places we are serving others. 

Along with this we note those areas we are not serving.  It becomes a matter of the heart, which is what Jesus was attempting to change in each person.  Our hearts, if we are following Him, are to be set to serve others in love and humility seeing absolutely no one as being beneath us. 

Next, we hear Jesus say something unexpected.  “You are those who have stood by me in my trials.”  He knows each of them will flee and hide in cowardice during his greatest trial.  He will go to the cross alone.  And yet, he declares the faithful witness of the disciples and confers upon them the authority to judge.

How can this be?  Will we have the same declaration made of our faith and will we receive the same authority?  The disciples did in fact become martyrs, those who declare “Jesus is Lord,” even when threatened with death.  They did this after the resurrection.  We also live with the knowledge that Jesus who was crucified has defeated death.  The key for us as for the 12 is not in aspiring to sit on thrones and judge others.  The key is faithfulness. 

Living in the United States, it is unlikely we will face imprisonment or death because of our faith in Jesus.  But trials come into the lives of believers because the world is rejecting the Kingdom of God.  When we are for Jesus, the world is against us.  How that looks varies and I don’t know how it will become real in your life.  But a way of examining ourselves when we pick up the broken bread and sip from the cup that points to Jesus’ blood is for us to look at our lives and think about when we have and have not been faithful to the ways of God.  Have we compromised in speech or integrity?  Have we clearly known what God wanted and then we did the exact opposite?  Examining our faithfulness is a way of knowing exactly where we stand when we accept Jesus’ invitation to Communion.  When we know we have failed to be faithful, the appropriate action is not to run away or skip Communion.  No, we take it, but first, with our hearts broken, we confess, repent, and receive forgiveness.

One more word from Jesus on the night of his betrayal as we consider what it means to discern the body.  Peter pledges to go to prison and death with Jesus and Jesus knows Peter will indeed do exactly that, but not this night.  This night, he will deny knowing Jesus.  Later, even after he has shown himself to be faithful Peter will waffle on the issue of whether non-Jews can follow Jesus.  He will get caught between Paul and the Jerusalem church.  In short, Peter’s amazing, inspiring witness rises and recedes.  On one occasion he is the paragon of faithfulness.  On the next, he says something so frustratingly stupid it seems he has not heard a thing Jesus has said.

As we go over all that we know about Peter and we hear Jesus say to him, “When once you have turned back, strengthen your brothers,” then we know, we are him.  Each one of us is Peter.  Each one of us comes to Maundy Thursday and the Lord’s Supper table having at times served Jesus.  Maybe we are unaware of God’s great pleasure in us when we are at our best, but we have those moments where we shine. 

Likewise, we sin as badly as Peter did the night Jesus was arrested and he claimed he didn’t know him at all.  In discerning the body, we give to ourselves and to our neighbors the same measure of grace Jesus gives to us.  We strive for excellence in our discipleship, but we give grace when we fall far below that mark. 

Paul’s guidelines for coming to the Lord’s Supper table are meant to coat our community with humility not to keep people away.  We are a body of broken people who are desperately dependent upon Jesus for life and for love.  And he gives both in abundance.  That is what Paul wants us to know.  The judgment on us is that we are innocent because we are in Christ.  The very words of Jesus when he instituted the bread and cup as a memorial to him help us understand Paul’s teaching.  We come arm-in-arm, supporting each other and granting grace upon grace throughout life. 

The Communion table reveals that all – presidents and peasants alike - are in need of Christ and in His Kingdom.  And in him all are one and this unity extends to all areas of life.    

After the meal, when the forces of evil gathered in the garden to arrest Jesus and take him to his death, his followers fled in fear.  We know how the story turned out.  In retelling it, we come together in humility and love.  We are brothers and sisters, joined in Christ and inspired to share the love he has shared with us. 

AMEN