Maundy Thursday - 2026

Sermon for Maundy Thursday 2026
St. Paul's Episcopal Church
The Rev. Andrew McLarty

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

There’s a temptation on Maundy Thursday to focus on the actions (the meal, the footwashing, etc.), and miss the deeper invitation underneath them.

Because what Jesus gives us tonight is not just something to do. He gives us a way to be.

“Love one another,” he says. “Just as I have loved you.”

As D.A. Carson puts it, “This new command is simple enough for a toddler to memorize and appreciate, and it is profound enough that the most mature believers are repeatedly embarrassed at how poorly they comprehend it and put it into practice.”

Yet Jesus shows us how simultaneously easy and potentially difficult it is: Jesus washes Judas’s feet. Jesus shares bread with Judas. He knows exactly who Judas is. He knows exactly what Judas will do. And he still serves him.

That’s not just a detail within the story, I think it's the point.

Because God's love is not reactive. It is not conditional. It is not earned. It is freely given before we even realize it is already happening.

Judas receives that love even as he is preparing to betray it.

And here’s the hard truth: Judas rejects the relationship—not the other way around.

If Jesus could kneel at the feet of his betrayer… who could we kneel before?

Because we all have our lists, don’t we?

Those we find difficult. Those we disagree with. Those who have hurt us, disappointed us, or simply gotten under our skin enough that we quietly decide: not them.

We may not say it out loud. We may even still be polite.

But love them like that? Serve them like that? Surely there must be limits.

And yet Jesus doesn’t seem particularly interested in our limits. “Love one another,” he says, “just as I have loved you.”

Which means that the measure of love is not how deserving the other person is. The measure of love is Jesus himself.

And Jesus loves Judas.

Now, that does not mean Jesus is naïve. It does not mean he ignores what Judas is doing. It does not mean he pretends betrayal isn’t real.

It means that Jesus refuses to let someone else’s sin determine the shape of his own faithfulness.

That means there is nothing we can do that makes Jesus stop loving us. There is nothing we can do that makes Jesus withdraw himself from us.

We can reject that love. We can walk away from that relationship. But we cannot prevent him from offering it.

We are comforted, because it means God’s love for us is secure, even in our worst moments. Yet, we are also challenged, because if we are called to follow Jesus, then we are called to that same kind of love.

A love that acts. A love that shows up. A love that serves, even when it may not be returned. Because we cannot control the response. We cannot control whether the other person receives or rejects what we offer.

We can only control whether we will be faithful to the pattern we’ve been given.

Jesus' mandate for us, this New Commandment, is not about being nice. It is about being true.

True to who God is. True to what Christ has shown us. True to a love that is honest, grounded, and real.

A love that can name betrayal without becoming it. A love that can face rejection without mirroring it. A love that remains open, even when it would be easier to close.

So tonight, the question is not just whether we understand a command so simple a toddler can recite it, but if we can walk with the repeated embarrassment of trying to live it. Are we are willing to let it shape us?

Amen.