Entrust Yourself to the Journey
- Rev Robert Moses
- Apr 2
- 4 min read
Lessons, Maundy Thursday: Exodus 12:1-14; Psalm 116:1, 10-17; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; John 13:1-17, 31b-35

Tonight we gather in the shadow of Maundy Thursday—a night of quiet gravity. A night where love kneels. Where power stoops. Where God, in Christ, takes a towel and a basin and begins to wash feet. And strangely, if we lift our eyes from the upper room for just a moment, we find ourselves also living in the age of Artemis II—a mission that will carry human beings farther than any have traveled in generations, circling the moon and returning home. A mission of courage, precision, and trust.
These two realities could not feel more different: one ancient, intimate, and grounded; the other futuristic, vast, and cosmic. And yet, I think they speak to each other. They both ask a similar question: What does it mean to entrust yourself to a journey you cannot fully control?
In the Gospel of John, Jesus knows exactly where he is going. He knows betrayal is coming. He knows suffering is near. And still—he kneels. He washes the feet of those who will fail him. He shares bread with those who will scatter. He loves, not because it is safe—but because it is who he is.
There is a kind of courage here that looks nothing like the courage we celebrate in rockets and space exploration. Or perhaps—it is the same courage, just turned inside out. The astronauts of Artemis II will strap themselves into a vessel atop controlled fire. They will trust engineers, mathematicians, and unseen systems. They will sit in a fragile capsule and surrender themselves to forces beyond their strength.
And isn’t that what Jesus does? He entrusts himself—not to machinery—but to humanity. To flawed disciples. To the unfolding will of God. To a path that leads through suffering into resurrection.
But here is where Maundy Thursday turns everything upside down. Because before Jesus gives himself over to the cross, he gives himself to them. He says: “Do this in remembrance of me.” He says: “Love one another as I have loved you.” This is not just ritual. It is commissioning.
In the Artemis mission, only a few are chosen to go. Years of training. Layers of selection. Only the most prepared step into that spacecraft. But in the kingdom of God, the invitation is scandalously wide. You don’t need perfect credentials to kneel with a towel. You don’t need flawless faith to break bread. You don’t need to understand the whole journey to begin walking in love.
On this voyage, Artemis II will orbit the moon—but it will not land. It is a journey of preparation, a proving ground for what comes next. Maundy Thursday is like that, too. It is not the cross yet—that comes tomorrow. Not the empty tomb yet—that comes on Saturday. Tonight is the threshold – it is a night that prepares us. Tests us. Invites us to step into something we do not yet fully understand.
A little-known story: Humanity’s first steps on the moon in 1969 were marked by a sacred act when Buzz Aldrin, a Presbyterian elder, took out a small communion set, poured wine, broke bread, and read from John 15:5: “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit.” The first meal eaten on the moon was a remembrance of the Last Supper.
Going back two thousand years, during Jesus’ final hours, He walked with His disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane under the glow of the full moon. It was the Passover feast, a lunar holiday. In this moment of profound anguish, when Jesus began to sweat blood, the scene was illuminated by the pink (Passover) moon.
The moon – the pink moon, the Passover moon – was officially full at 10:13 PM last night, April 1. However, it should still appear full and bright tonight. The best time to view it would be at dusk, as the moon rises in the east shortly after sunset, but it should still be quite a sight even a few hours after dusk. I invite you to join me on the lawn after the service so we can gaze at it together.
As you look up at the full moon tonight – the same moon that the Artemis II crew is heading toward – remember that it is the same moon that Moses, David, Esther, Mary, Joseph, and Jesus looked up at. It is also the same moon on which Buzz Aldrin celebrated communion. As you admire the moon, take a moment to reflect on the fact that as long as it remains, God’s covenant stands! I hope that thought brings you a sense of wonder. As we come to the table tonight, as we remember, as we watch and wait—we are standing on the launchpad of grace. The engines are already burning. Love has already been set in motion. And the question is not whether the mission will succeed. The question is whether we will have the courage to go where Christ is sending us—downward into service, outward into love, and forward into a future we cannot fully see, but can fully trust.
Amen.


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