Tag Archives: Jewish

Strangers are Embodied Mystery. Cool. [OR Is Any Body There? Yes!!]

Strangers are Embodied Mystery. Cool. [OR Is Any Body There? Yes!!]

[Sermon begins after the Bible reading. The other two Bible readings are at the end of the sermon.]

Luke 13:31-35 At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to [Jesus,] “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.” 32 He said to them, “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. 33 Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.’ 34 Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! 35 See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’ ”

[sermon begins]

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on March 16, 2025

Pastor’s kids. They’re a thing. They’re so much a thing that in church-land they’re called a “PK” – Pastor Kid. My kids didn’t grow up with a pastor mom. They say that their mom is a pastor, but my call came later in their childhoods—their church experience unaffected by it. They watched me go through seminary and, as teenagers, the two of them helped Rob put on my stole during ordination. They grew up with a mom who was discovering Christianity as if for the first time. I was asking questions. Tons of them. The kids asked questions or announced their creative answers before asking. Taryn, sometime in early elementary school, said, “God must have a special skin machine in heaven.” I don’t remember the conversation we had but her comment stuck. She was trying to solve a mystery, a resurrection mystery or a heaven mystery or maybe an Apostle’s Creed mystery about the resurrection of the dead. Not really sure. But she was onto something both with her question and her mystery card. Every theological system plays at least one mystery card. Makes sense. Theology is the study of God and religious experience. Since we can’t prove God like a science experiment, we’re talking about mystery when we talk about God.

Mystery allows questions and creative answers. When we ask the question this Lent, “Is Any Body There?”[1] We can say a resounding, “Yes!” Because God entered time in the person of Jesus and God is not limited to the first century. Mystery reveals curiosity as inherent to faithful witness, rejecting certainty as a corruption of faith. As Pastor Karen preached last Sunday, God’s body is Jesus’ body. That is quite a claim. It’s one based on the Bible and it’s also a mystery. We talk about the mystery of the Bible in the Discover Augustana class. It’s neither a science book nor a history book nor a newspaper. As much as we want those things to be true, the Biblical writers were many, many people writing over many, many centuries about their experience of God. Additionally, we claim that the Holy Spirit inspired the Biblical writers and works on us through the Bible. We enter that mystery with appropriate awe and caution.

Let’s try it with the story of Abram and the Lord in the book of Genesis reading. The animals cut in half were an ancient ritual in which covenants were formed between people and groups.[2] The one who walked down the center of the animals was committing to keeping the covenant under penalty of death. Abram didn’t walk between the animals cut in half. The Lord did. The Lord was sealing the covenant with Abram under penalty of death. Who’s death? Not Abrams. The Lord’s death. A death that ends up happening to Jesus in Jerusalem.[3] Remember, God’s body is Jesus body. As Jesus taught his disciples about wanting to gather Jerusalem like a hen gathers her chicks against the hungry fox, Jesus is describing himself. God’s-self. As Jesus teaches through towns in Galilee, heading towards Jerusalem, the inevitable conclusion to his journey is the cross. The same cross by which we are sealed in baptism as children of God. The same cross written about by Paul in his letter to the Philippians that reveals the heavenly identity we bear.

There are several mystery cards in today’s theological deck of Bible verses. Maybe that’s a good thing. Because we tend to interpret the Bible in our image, sinning with certainty instead of faith humbled by mystery. We don’t have to look very far into the story about Abram and the Lord to find the themes of covenant, land, and driving away the birds of prey MISused as justification for Zionism and the current Israeli government’s destruction of Gaza and the slaughter of Palestinians who lawfully reside there. Or into the story of Jesus as he challenges the politics of Jerusalem as Herod Antipas tightened his murderous grip around the people who lived there.[4] Jesus words about the unwillingness of Jerusalem have been MISused as justification for Jewish erasure and anti-Jewish violence even though the Jewish leaders in this particular story were trying to help Jesus avoid execution. Or the story of Paul’s letter to the Corinthians which has been MISused as justification for ignoring issues in the world because heaven is the ultimate goal.

Repenting for the ways that the Bible has been misused to hurt real people opens a way into cautious, faithful curiosity about the mystery. God is both up close AND otherworldly. God’s body as Jesus’ body doesn’t limit God to only that activity in Jesus. Our limitations create God in our own image rather than allowing the mystery of God, the other worldliness of God, to humble our thinking, and open possibilities that we hadn’t considered.

Here’s an example of mystery and humility as it played out in this congregation and many others. If you had told me in 2019, before the pandemic, that someday I’d be inviting folks to holy communion on livestream, I would have laughed out loud. During the pandemic, Pastor Ann and I along with thousands of pastors and bishops asked ourselves this question, “Do we believe that the Holy Spirit can work across distance, time, and place in the Lord’s Supper?” The first part of the question was easy. Honestly, the freedom of the Holy Spirit is beyond question in the Bible. Of course, the Holy Spirit can blow where the Holy Spirit wills. That made the second part of the question about livestream much easier to answer. And now you hear me say during the communion instructions, “For those of you on livestream, you’re invited to have bread or cracker and wine or juice and receive them with these words, “The body of Christ given for you; and the blood of Christ shed for you.” I would sum it up this way, in person communion is ideal. More than ideal. We’re called to worship together as bodies. And yet, God absolutely works in less-than-ideal circumstances to proclaim and reveal the love of Christ to everyone. We use what we have to that end. Martin Luther used the printing press in the 1500s. We use livestream. And the mystery continues.

Mystery opens us to the possibility that God works beyond our knowing in places, times, and people we don’t know and can’t imagine. Thanks be to God! One simple example in this congregation is that we sing hymns written hundreds of years ago across the ocean and we also sing hymns written just a few years ago from around the world. We also worship with a liturgy that has its origins in ancient Judaism while updating words and prayers for our moment today. Holy communion used to be practiced by the earliest baptized Christians in their homes and here we are in a public church inviting everyone of all ages to the table. The church is BOTH ancient AND now. There’s a mystery for you.

Mystery also turns us towards each other. In the last Discover Augustana class, several people talked about the experience of walking into worship here for the first time and experiencing an openness from the people around them. That openness to new people is being open to mystery.[5]  In those earliest greetings we are no more than friendly strangers. And strangers are embodied mystery, are they not? Newcomers in worship are taking a leap of faith that this faith community might make sense for them and longtime Augustana folks are open to the mystery of new people. Embodied mystery. Sounds cool.

Being open to mystery and what we don’t know may lead to connections with different faith communities, too.[6] A few nights ago, our Muslim cousins in faith[7] from the Multicultural Mosaic Foundation hosted 35 of us from Augustana (and more from the wider community!) for their Iftar dinner as they broke their daily Ramadan fast after sunset. Kids and families were welcome, too. Our hosts taught us about Ramadan and what it means to their faith. We also just got to know each other as people over dinner conversation at each of our tables. When we engage in mystery, walls come down across communities as trust is built. Not perfectly, for sure. But that’s a world I’m interested in living in. More importantly, it’s a world that Jesus leads us to build by following his example across differences. (For those of you still curious about how Muslims are our cousins in faith, check out Genesis, chapter 21, when God promises Ishmael, Abram’s other son, that God “will make a great nation of him.”)

Being claimed by the mystery of faith—by the mystery of Christ’s death, resurrection, and return—means God’s limitless imagination is poured out by the Holy Spirit for this world, for our church, and for you. May our curiosity be faithful and full of grace. Amen.

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[1] Craig Mueller. Any Body There? Worship and Being Human in the Digital Age, (Oregon: Wipf & Stock Publishers, 2017).

[2] Rolf Jacobson, Dean of the Faculty, Professor of Old Testament and the Alvin N. Rogness Chair of Scripture, Theology, and Ministry at Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Sermon Brainwave podcast on Bible readings for the Second Sunday in Lent, March 16, 2025. www.workingpreacher.org/podcasts/1012-second-sunday-in-lent-c-mar-16-2025

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid, Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN.

[5] Ibid., Craig Mueller, 77-78

[6] Ibid., Craig Mueller, 81.

[7] Genesis 21:8-21 The story of Hagar and Ishmael, Abram’s son, being sent away and also being blessed by God.

________________________________________________________

Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18 After these things the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision, “Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great.” 2 But Abram said, “O Lord God, what will you give me, for I continue childless, and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?” 3 And Abram said, “You have given me no offspring, and so a slave born in my house is to be my heir.” 4 But the word of the Lord came to him, “This man shall not be your heir; no one but your very own issue shall be your heir.” 5 He brought him outside and said, “Look toward heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your descendants be.” 6 And he believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness.
7 Then he said to him, “I am the Lord who brought you from Ur of the Chaldeans, to give you this land to possess.” 8 But he said, “O Lord God, how am I to know that I shall possess it?” 9 He said to him, “Bring me a heifer three years old, a female goat three years old, a ram three years old, a turtledove, and a young pigeon.” 10 He brought him all these and cut them in two, laying each half over against the other; but he did not cut the birds in two. 11 And when birds of prey came down on the carcasses, Abram drove them away.
12 As the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell upon Abram, and a deep and terrifying darkness descended upon him.
17 When the sun had gone down and it was dark, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these pieces. 18 On that day the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying, “To your descendants I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates.”

Philippians 3:17-4:1 Brothers and sisters, join in imitating me, and observe those who live according to the example you have in us. 18 For many live as enemies of the cross of Christ; I have often told you of them, and now I tell you even with tears. 19 Their end is destruction; their god is the belly; and their glory is in their shame; their minds are set on earthly things. 20 But our citizenship is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. 21 He will transform the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his glory, by the power that also enables him to make all things subject to himself. 4:1 Therefore, my brothers and sisters, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm in the Lord in this way, my beloved.

Memorial to Victims of Violence [Tree of Life Congregation in Pittsburgh]

**sermon art is Star of David by Ram Coenca, arcrylic on canvas, coenca-art.com

Caitlin Trussell with the residents of Kavod Senior Life in Denver and other faith leaders by invitation of Rabbi Stephen Booth-Nadav, on October 30, 2018

[Rabbi Steve invited our remarks and prayers to reflect unity in diversity as well as to offer comfort to residents of each faith leader’s tradition. He notes that the deaths in Pittsburgh hit Kavod’s residents in “some unique ways, including: Most of the victims in Pittsburg were over 60 as are our residents; a little under half of our residents are Jewish; our non-Jewish residents feel a special closeness, and vulnerability, with our Jewish community.”]

[Remarks begin]

I am Pastor Caitlin Trussell and I bring you greetings from my colleague Pastor Ann Hultquist, who is traveling, and the good people of Augustana Lutheran Church, your neighbors one mile to the east.

Over lunch on Tuesday a week ago, a rabbi friend of mine talked about his fear about being a Jew in America [2]. Then Saturday came and, with it, the murder of Jews in Pittsburgh. Twenty-four years ago my brother married a lovely Jewish woman. They raised their children at Congregation Or Ami in California.  My brother converted to Judaism more recently.  When I heard about the shootings, weighing heavily on my heart and mind were those who died, their friends and family, my Jewish friends and colleagues, as well as my brother, his family, and their Jewish congregation.

In Christian scripture, the Gospel of John, the 14th chapter, Jesus says to his disciples:

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”

I suppose that’s easy for Jesus to say.  Not so easy for us.  We can get lost in the details of Jesus’ words because, in the aftermath of Saturday’s killings of our Jewish cousins in faith, we see all too clearly how the world gives, which troubles our hearts and makes us afraid. Christians sometimes refer to our life here on earth as living on “this side of the cross” – meaning that we live in a world in which we so clearly see and experience suffering.

It’s a truth we understand deep in our gut. The truth that being human involves real suffering and pain. However, Christians see along with that truth that the cross means that God would rather die than raise a hand in violence against the world that God loves unconditionally.  Not only that, the cross also reveals the mystery of God suffering with us when we suffer, revealing life in the midst of that suffering through the love we share with each other; and through the love and solidarity we share with people of no faith and people of all faiths in our collective determination and actions to prevent future suffering.

It is in the spirit of love and solidarity that I offer this prayer from my faith tradition…

God of our weary years, God of our silent tears, you have brought us this far along the way.

In times of bitterness you did not abandon us, but guided us into the path of love and light.

In every age you sent prophets to make known your loving will for all humanity.

The cry of the suffering has become your own cry; our hunger and thirst for justice for all people is your own desire.

You entered our sorrows in Jesus our brother. He was born among the poor, he lived under oppression, he wept over the city. With infinite love, he meets us in our suffering.

O God most merciful, our comfort and our hope, graciously tend those who mourn, that, casting all their sorrow on you, they may know the consolation of your love.

O God most majestic, you are breath and fire, our strength and our song, you show us a vision of a tree of life with fruits for all and leaves that heal the nations.

Grant us such a life as you make us instruments of your peace.[1]

Amen.

_____________________________________________________________________

[1] The prayer above is modified from Prayers for Worship VIII and X as well as the Funeral Prayer of the Day in Evangelical Lutheran Worship (Hymnal).  (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2009), 67, 69, and 281.

[2] This same rabbi friend encourages the use of the word Jew acknowledging that non-Jews are squeamish about it given the pejorative use in history up through today.

Self-Sacrificing Love: Gives, Confronts, Connects – John 13:1-17, 31b-35; Exodus 12:1-4, 11-14; and 1 Corinthians 11:23-26

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on Maundy Thursday – April 13, 2017

**Sermon graphic: Ikebana Communion by Ben Morales-Correa

[sermon begins after the Bible reading; the Exodus and 1 Corinthian readings follow the sermon]

John 13:1-17, 31b-35 Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. 2 The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him. And during supper 3 Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, 4 got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. 5 Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. 6 He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” 7 Jesus answered, “You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” 8 Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” 9 Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!” 10 Jesus said to him, “One who has bathed does not need to wash, except for the feet, but is entirely clean. And you are clean, though not all of you.” 11 For he knew who was to betray him; for this reason he said, “Not all of you are clean.” 12 After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, “Do you know what I have done to you? 13 You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am. 14 So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. 15 For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. 16 Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. 17 If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them.

31 Jesus said, “Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. 32 If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once. 33 Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, “Where I am going, you cannot come.’ 34 I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. 35 By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

[sermon begins]

Jesus says, “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”  These words in John are sandwiched by two stories that are not part of what we just heard read out loud.  The glaring gap of verses in the middle of the reading is when Jesus foretells Judas’ betrayal.  Just following his command for us to love one another, he foretells Peter’s denial.  Jesus’ call to love is surrounded by betrayal and denial.  And, as if that’s not enough, the betrayal and denial come from his closest friends.

Footwashing begins Jesus’ last words and teachings to his disciples, Jesus’ farewell before his arrest and crucifixion.  His farewell opens with a fierce act of love that anticipates laying down his life.[1]  Footwashing is something that a slave does, not a host.  It is an act of utter devotion.[2] While washing the feet of his friends anticipates his death on the cross, it is also a culmination of the love that he’s already accomplished in the Gospel of John – showing up in Word made flesh, turning water into wine at a wedding celebration, meeting in the dark of night with the religious leader Nicodemus, surprising the Samaritan woman at the well, healing the man born blind, feeding the five thousand, walking on water as peace in the storm, and raising Lazarus from the dead.[3]  Each act of love connects to what comes before and what lies ahead.[4]  This is also true of the command to love one another.

Jesus’s command to love is not new.  Leviticus is the ancient Hebrew book of law still read today as part of the Torah by our Jewish cousins in the faith and read by Christians as part of the Pentateuch, the first five books of the Bible.[5]  Leviticus, chapter 19, verse 18, reads, “You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.”  The original command is to love neighbor as self.  The new commandment expands from the original to love as Jesus loves.[6]  Embodying the new commandment in footwashing, Jesus spends considerably more time revealing his own heart than the hearts of the betrayer and the denier.[7]  His love is both giving and confrontational, devoting himself to his disciples while turning the table on evil by an act of love – rejecting evil’s terms through his act of service.[8]  Jesus washes Judas’ and Peter’s feet along with everyone else’s feet.  No foot is left unclean.

The footwashing and Farewell Discourse anticipate the fullness of God’s glory at the cross, of life emptying out to fill us all through the self-sacrificing love of the One who lays his life down.  The self-sacrificing love that brings us to the Communion table.  The Communion students who will receive communion during this evening’s worship heard the story of the Passover a few weeks ago as part of their instruction.  We hear it again today.

Passover was celebrated this same week by our Jewish cousins in the faith. The Passover that led their Hebrew ancestors from slavery into freedom by the blood of a lamb.  As Jesus expanded the Levitical law into the new commandment of love for all, so Jesus expanded the Passover remembrance into a meal of life for all.  It’s important to note that God’s covenants with Jews through Abraham and Moses are not superseded by Jesus.[9]  The covenants are expanded to all, and therefore to us, through Jesus.[10]  This is important because God’s covenant expanded to include us non-Jews rejects any violence committed against our Jewish cousins in the faith, calling us to atonement and reconciliation with each other.

Reconciliation is a re-connection with each other and with God brought to us by Jesus through the cross.  It’s neither sentimental nor an echo-chamber of agreement.[11]  It’s the reality of community that contains betrayers like Judas and deniers like Peter.  It’s the reality of community that contains us.  Paul’s letter to the Corinthians challenges them through the reconciliation won by Christ on the cross. Their divisions across social standing is unacceptable.  Into their divisions, Paul shares the words of Jesus that we know as the Words of Institution said at the Communion table:

“…the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.’ For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.”[12]

When we “share the peace” before we receive communion we are enacting the love that is first commanded in Leviticus and then commanded while embodied by Jesus.[13]  We embody the reality of community that contains us betrayers and deniers, us social dividers. Sinners the lot of us. All. At the same time, we embody the reality of community that contains beloved children of God.  All of us.

Along this line, I’ll admit that I’m a sucker for videos that pop up on social media.  One in particular keeps coming to mind as I think about Jesus’ commandment to love and then his own self-sacrificing love.  It’s a recorded video of three-year old Leah and her mom.[14]  Leah is three, has a life-threatening illness and a feeding tube in place.  Her mom is asking her a bunch of questions. Favorite color? Pink. Favorite food? Yogurt. What is your favorite animal? Tigers.  What are you scared of? Tigers. Question-after-question, and then this one, “What does love mean?”  God. [mother pauses] What? God.  I watch something like that, someone like Leah and her mother, and it catches me.  There’s incomprehensible suffering alongside the naming of love and it doesn’t compute.

Fortunately, God’s love isn’t dependent on my or anyone else’s computational skills. God’s love empties through Jesus’ death on a cross to us through the communion table of mercy, through wine and bread.  Sharing this meal together proclaims Jesus’ death and contains his self-sacrificing loves just as it has in all times and places.[15]  Jesus’ meal is at the center of God naming us Beloved across whatever sin we dish out on our own including the lines we draw to divide ourselves.  Jesus’ meal re-connects us with God and each other. Thanks be to God.  Amen.

______________________________________

[1] Craig Koester. The Word of Life: A Theology of John’s Gospel. (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2008), 194.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Gospel of John, chapters 1-12.  There’s more there than the abbreviated version above. It’s no secret that John is my favorite Gospel.

[4] Karoline Lewis, Associate Professor of Preacher and Marbury E. Anderson Chair of Biblical Preaching. Luther Seminary.  Sermon Brainwave podcast for Maundy Thursday scripture readings on April 13, 2017. http://www.workingpreacher.org/brainwave.aspx?podcast_id=867

[5] Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy.

[6] Ibid., Koester.

[7] Robert Hoch, Commentary on John 13:1-17, 31b-35 for April 13, 2017 at WorkingPreacher.org. http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3204

[8] Ibid., Koester.

[9] Supersessionism is the theory that Jesus fulfills, replaces, and therefore negates God’s covenant with Jews.  The explicit assertion in this sermon is the counter-argument to supersessionism.

[10] Krister Stendahl. Final Account: Paul’s Letter to the Romans. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1995).

[11] Ibid., Koester, 195.

[12] 1 Corinthians 11:23b-26

[13] A worship leader says, “The peace of Christ be with you always.” The people respond, “And also with you.” Then everyone shares a sign of Christ’s peace with each other by shaking each other’s hands.

[14] Video of Leah interviewed by her mother at https://www.facebook.com/Break/videos/10155078881787792/

[15] Matthew Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary. Sermon Brainwave podcast for Maundy Thursday scripture readings on April 13, 2017. http://www.workingpreacher.org/brainwave.aspx?podcast_id=867

Exodus 12:1-4, 11-14 The Lord said to Moses and Aaron in the land of Egypt: 2 This month shall mark for you the beginning of months; it shall be the first month of the year for you. 3 Tell the whole congregation of Israel that on the tenth of this month they are to take a lamb for each family, a lamb for each household. 4 If a household is too small for a whole lamb, it shall join its closest neighbor in obtaining one; the lamb shall be divided in proportion to the number of people who eat of it.

11 This is how you shall eat it: your loins girded, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand; and you shall eat it hurriedly. It is the passover of the Lord. 12 For I will pass through the land of Egypt that night, and I will strike down every firstborn in the land of Egypt, both human beings and animals; on all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgments: I am the Lord. 13 The blood shall be a sign for you on the houses where you live: when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and no plague shall destroy you when I strike the land of Egypt. 14 This day shall be a day of remembrance for you. You shall celebrate it as a festival to the Lord; throughout your generations you shall observe it as a perpetual ordinance.

1 Corinthians 11:23-36 For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, 24 and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” 25 In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” 26 For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.