During Easter week we will run into people who ask the icebreaking question, “What did you do for Easter?” We, in turn, will give a standard reply like: “Oh, we went to Aunt Bea’s house, had turkey, dressing, and the works. Then some of us cleaned up and the men watched sports on TV.” We might follow up with the same question, “And what did you do?” They will give us an answer similar to ours. End of conversation.
If we really wanted to talk about Easter, we would start relating details about the dinner conversation. Aunt Bea leaned over to _____and told her____. Then Uncle Ned tearfully told us about the moment his dad died. Little Tommy asked us to explain the mystery of the Easter Bunny. And so on.
When we get into the details of the Easter table conversation, the other person starts to feel like she was there. She begins to sense what it was like and to feel some of the feelings we had as we sat around the table.
It is interesting how St. John talked about the Last Supper with Jesus. Other reporters might outline the process—we gathered together for the Passover meal, Jesus blessed and broke bread, Judas left early, and then we left the room. John, on the other hand, remembered well what happened at that dinner and how he felt. In doing so he gives us the opportunity to become part of this sacred moment (John 13:21-33, 36-38).
“Jesus was deeply troubled…The disciples looked at one another, at a loss as to whom he meant. One of his disciples, the one whom Jesus loved, was reclining at Jesus’ side…Simon Peter nodded to him…He leaned back against Jesus’ chest… So (Jesus) dipped the morsel and took it and handed it to Judas…Jesus said to him, ‘What you are going to do, do quickly…So Judas took the morsel and left.”
Did all of them noticed the expression of Jesus’ face and the troubled tone of his words? Who did? It was the disciple whom Jesus love—who had the place of honor next to Jesus—who was so close to Jesus that he could lean over and put his head on Jesus’ chest—the one to whom Jesus confided a secret message. Who noticed that Jesus tore off a chunk of bread, dipped it in a cup of wine, and then reached over to Judas and said something to him? Who understood the meaning of Jesus’ command to Judas? Again, it was the disciple whom Jesus loved, who remembered and reported these details.
We are privileged that one of the evangelists was able to take us beyond the facts of that dinner to the conversations and actions of what took place there. There seemed to be just one person who was really tuned into the depths of what was going on. I take it that the rest were just participating in a familiar religious service—one similar to family Passover meals that they had experienced in the past.
Doesn’t it strike us strange that there was a special disciple, whom Jesus loved in an unusual way, who was given a chosen place at the Last Supper? Being so loved by Jesus and so in love with Jesus, he could pick up the tone of the conversation, the feelings of Jesus, and note the specific words that were said. It seems his heart was somehow one with the heart of Jesus.
This beloved disciple remembered the mysterious, upsetting words of Jesus:
“Now is the Son of Man glorified…My children, I will be with you a little longer. You will look for me, and as I told the Jews, ‘Where I go you cannot come.’”
He remembered the questions that arose in his mind. He remembered that Jesus said “Now”—the moment they had waited for had come. He remembered that Jesus called this group of grown men, “children.” Jesus was not just a coach talking to his team; he was a shepherd who loved each one of his sheep to the point of wanting to lay down his life for them. He tried to break it easy to them: “Where I go you cannot come.” This beloved disciple absorbed the reality of those words and took to heart each one of them. Like Mary, he pondered them in his heart. He remembered how upset he was that Jesus was going to leave this flock of sheep who depended so much on him.
What if we asked John to be our mentor during this holiest week of the year? What if we asked him to help us feel what he felt, wonder about the significance of each part of that dinner conversation, and listen to the deep words that came from the heart of Jesus that night? This is a way to help us from just going through the motions of another set of Holy Week services. With John we can see each detail of these events through the filter of Jesus’ heart. We can be there.
“Incline your ear to me and save me” (Ps 71:2).
