PEOPLE'S CHURCH OF DOVER

John 13:1-17, 31^b-3 5                      The Sign of the Laver                     Text

 

        Before I go any further in this sermon I want to reassure you that I'm not going to ask you to take off your shoes so somebody can wash your feet.  In the culture of ancient Judea that was the duty of a host when guests came to visit, and it was necessary because most people walked, and the roads were dusty—or muddy.  So when Jesus washed his disciples' feet, as you already know, it was a symbol of his servanthood; and in his "new commandment" he called on us who follow him to be servants of each other—"Love one another as I have loved you."  But having your feet washed in church has very different feelings and implications in our culture of shoes.  So I'm not going to ask you to have your feet washed.

        But you can see that I've placed a bronze container on a stand at the front of the nave; and if you've guessed that it's for washing, you're right.  So let's talk about this.  Let's call this bronze container a "laver"—the word "laver" means a place to wash.  There's something very powerful in the sign of the laver with the cross in the background.  And in keeping with Jesus' "new commandment" on this Maundy Thursday, my theme is "Love one another." 

 

        In the Book of Exodus, in the story of the Hebrew people being led out of Egyptian slavery by Moses, after the giving of the Ten Commandments, there is a section that goes on for many chapters describing how the holy tabernacle was to be made and how to make all the items in it—the altar of incense, the altar of sacrifice, the table, the menorah, the ark of the covenant on which sat the mercy seat, and one other item—the laver.  Before the priests could approach the altar they were required to engage in a ritual cleansing:[1]  they washed their hands and their feet in the laver—their feet so that they could walk on holy ground, and their hands so that they could handle the sacrifices.  The story says that a skilled craftsman named Bezalel made the laver of bronze.[2]  It was five feet in diameter and stood on a base; and it contained about 243 gallons of water.  He got the bronze from the women door-keepers of the tabernacle—they gave their mirrors to be melted down and made into the container for purification.[3]

        Later in Hebrew history the Bezalel laver was replaced by a much larger container, and then by twelve containers.  When the Babylonian army destroyed the temple, the later container was broken into scrap metal and shipped off to Babylon—to Baghdad.[4] 

        That's the history of the laver that stood in the courtyard of the ancient tabernacle and the temple of Solomon.  It held the waters of purification. 

        Thinking about that ancient bowl, we can say some things about it that go deeper.  First, it was expensive.  It represented not only the money value of the bronze, but it cost the ancient Hebrew people the central sign of their pre-Moses fertility cult—the women at the door of the temple.  When they gave their mirrors to Bezalel, they ceased being cult prostitutes and became part of Israel's purification in order to serve God.  The bronze laver was expensive:  it changed their religion. 

        Second, it stood for ritual purification.  Religious ritual has had a hard road in the past century.  I'm glad to say that there is now a new interest in the power of ancient words and the actions of generations of our forebears in the worship of God.  Last year the Lenten Study learned from Diana Butler Bass's book Christianity for the Rest of Us that the renewal of many Protestant churches in America has come with a renewed interest in forms of worship—forms like the Celtic liturgy, chanting, the celebration of Holy Communion much more often than in the past.  Ritual is not "just ritual" anymore:  it is becoming "liturgy," which means "the work of the people of God"—praise.  So our sense of renewed worship touches the ancient meaning of that bronze laver in this way:  it was a ritual form for worship. 

        Third, for the water in the laver to provide ritual cleansing the water itself had to become holy, powerful.  The water was made holy by the laver, not the laver by the water.  The Book of Exodus gives specific directions about the size and design of the laver; and any water poured into it then became holy.  That's like what Jesus did with his basin and towel in the upper room:  the water was made a powerful symbol by Jesus' holding the basin. 

        So the ancient tabernacle laver was expensive, it was ritually formal, and it was the source of power. 

 

        Now climb the steps with me back up to the upper room and watch Jesus move around the table washing his disciples' feet and drying them with the slave's towel.  When he did this there was something going on.  First of all, it was expensive:  it showed God-the-Servant, Jesus, and called them, and calls us to follow him in servanthood:  it changes our religion.  Second, it was a cleansing in preparation for holy deeds:  his crucifixion and resurrection, and his disciples' becoming witnesses of it.  And third, it was powerful, but it was a deed made powerful not by the water but by the servant himself. 

        And he said, "Love one another, as I have loved you."  In other words:  accept the expense of servanthood, allow the holiness of his love to flow over you, and realize its power by following his example:  expensive, holy, powerful. 

 

        So here is a bronze laver, and here are towels.  Jesus washed his disciple's feet so that they could "go into all the world"; but I invite you to wash each other's hands in preparation for touching the Bread and Wine in our Communion with him tonight.  As you dip your hands into the laver, remember that it is expensive—it changes lives, this "purification" thing.  As the person in front of you dries your hands, remember that it is worship—it brings you into attunement with the love of God.  And as you dry the hands of the person behind you, remember that there is power here—the power of the humble servant who redeems us all. 

        He said, "Love one another."  In our service of Holy Communion, as we share in the hour of the upper room, let us love one another.

AMEN