“A Homeboy Meal”

Maundy Thursday

April 17, 2025

Father Greg Boyle (center) and his ‘homies’

Children’s Message:

What is a towel good for? What can you do with a towel?

·       Dry off

·       Clean things

·       Polish shoes

·       Cape

·       Robe

·       Roll into an animal

·       Decorative

·       Blanket

·       Comfort

·       Turban

Today’s a pretty important day in the Christian year. This is the day where Jesus gathered his disciples around a meal. They were honoring the time God rescued them from slavery in Egypt. And two really big things happened at that particular meal that had never happened before.

First, Jesus took a bowl of water and went around washing his disciples’ feet. It’s not often you see someone in charge serving the people beneath them. And then, during the meal, Jesus took the bread and the wine and changed what they meant to him. The bread and wine weren’t just bread and wine anymore, just like a towel isn’t just a towel. It’s something more.

After this meal, Jesus would be captured by Roman soldiers and taken to the governor for a trial. You know what happens next, right? The governor would sentence him to death. This would be his last meal with his disciples—until after his resurrection.

So, a towel is more than a towel. Bread and wine are more than bread and wine. And we’ll soon learn that his death is more than death. But for now, let’s pray.

Dear God, thank you for giving us your life so that we might live. Help us serve the world with that same grace. Amen.

Message:

Back in 2013, Krista Tippett interviewed Father Greg Boyle on her podcast program, “On Being.” (https://onbeing.org/programs/greg-boyle-the-calling-of-delight-gangs-service-and-kinship/) Father Boyle is a Jesuit priest who felt called to minister to gangs and gang members in LA. In the process of failing and learning and growing, he and his homies started an incorporation called Homeboy Industries, comprised of various businesses—a bakery, a catering service, silk-screening and embroidery, recycling, and so many others.

Boyle started his ministry by thinking he could broker truces between gangs. He eventually realized that his peace-making efforts wouldn’t work because the gangs—and gang members—weren’t in conflict. They engaged in violence, but they weren’t fighting FOR anything. They weren’t running TO anything. They were all running FROM something. All the truces in the world wouldn’t change the gang reality. Instead, Boyle began ministering to the people, instead of the groups—and that has made all the difference.

When Jesus gathered his disciples for the meal, he took the bread. He blessed it. He broke it. And he gave it to them. He emulated what was true for him, as well. Taken. Blessed. Broken. Given. It is what is true for us, too. Taken. Blessed. Broken. Given.

To be taken is to be chosen. Called. God’s invitation is wide and limitless. We don’t get to choose whose feet Jesus washes. We don’t get to choose who gets to eat at the table. We don’t get to choose who receives God’s abundant and unbounded love. We don’t get to choose because we are not the choosers. We are the chosen. Chosen—not just for the few sacred moments hidden within an ordinary life. We are chosen to bless the ordinary and recognize it as sacred. Recognize all humanity as sacred.

Father Boyle highlights the need for relationship when it comes to ministering to his homies. But relationship can be frightening. It’s so…incarnational. At the core of that word is carnal. Incarnation means being EMBODIED. It means living in the vulnerable, limited, fragility of these vessels. And we’re afraid of that. He says, “The fear that drives us is that we have to have our sacred in a certain way. It has to be gold-plated…And so we’ve wrestled the cup out of Jesus’ hand, and we’ve replaced it with a chalice, because who doesn’t know that a chalice is more sacred than a cup, never mind that Jesus didn’t use a chalice?”

Even in our fragility and mess, we are taken. Chosen. Called. And we are blessed. Not blessed in the sense that everything we do, say, and experience will turn out roses. We know that isn’t true. But blessed in the sense that we are made into an instrument of God’s grace.

Boyle tells of his homie, Louie. The homies had gotten into the habit of asking Boyle for a blessing. Louie was complaining about something and at the end said, “Hey, G, give me a bless, yeah?” So, he bowed his head as Father Boyle placed his hands on his shoulders. Knowing Louie’s birthday had just happened he said, “You know, Louie, I’m proud to know you, and my life is richer because you came into it. When you were born, the world became a better place. And I’m proud to call you my son, even though…at times, you can really be a huge pain in the ass.”

And Louie looked up and smiled and said, “The feeling’s mutual.” We are blessed, not because of who we are or what we’ve done, but simply because we are here. We are blessed, and we are called.

And we are broken. There’s no getting around it. But broken isn’t a bad thing. It doesn’t mean we are disposable. We’re so used to tossing out anything that is broken that we are afraid of our brokenness. But in our brokenness, we are opened up. We are exposed. It’s a scary way to be, but it gives us an opportunity to receive.

When Boyle goes to speaking engagements and trainings, he takes homies with him. One time, Jose joined him. He shared how, at the age of 6, his mother asked him why he doesn’t just kill himself and relieve her of her burden. At age 9, she took him to an orphanage saying that she found ‘this kid,’ and left him there until his grandmother figured out where he was and got him out. He bears the physical and emotional scars of her abuse. Scars he used to hate.

But now, he caresses the scars and gives thanks for them. He said, “How can I help the wounded if I don’t welcome my own wounds?” He ended up in a gang, he ended up addicted to drugs and alcohol, he ended up in prison—not because he was looking for these things but because he was fleeing his life. He didn’t have any hope to run to. Only pain to run from.

Christ chose incarnation for the very reason that humanity is flawed and breakable. Jesus allowed himself to be broken, wounded, and killed because, like Jose, how can he help the wounded if he doesn’t welcome his own wounds? How can we minister to the broken if we deny our own brokenness?

We are broken. We are blessed. We chosen. And we are given. Sent. Offered up to this world so that all will know Christ’s love. Father Boyle shared the story of another homie on his graffiti crew. The boy had been an orphan—abandoned and abused by his parents, like so many others. Boyle asked him what he did for Christmas. He said he invited six other guys from the graffiti crew who had no place to go. When he named them, Boyle realized that they were from competing gangs. Enemies.

Boyle asked, “So, what’d you do?” And the boy said, “You’re not gonna believe it. I cooked a turkey.” He said he prepared it ghetto-style—whatever that meant. But “it tasted proper.” They didn’t have anything else—just the turkey. He said, “Yeah, the seven of us, we just sat in the kitchen, staring at the oven, waiting for the turkey to be done.” Enemies sitting around a table, waiting for the food. Because we all have to eat.

We are given—to each other, to the world. Christ is given. Given in order that the world would be saved. Not necessarily through some gory death or required sacrifice, but simply through a meal. A meal that God knew we needed. A meal that reminded us that we are Chosen, Blessed, Broken and Given—to each other. For each other. That humanity is healed through relationship, compassion, love, and hope.

The reason Father Boyle started the various businesses was because it became clear to him—and it’s become their motto—“Nothing Stops a Bullet Like a Job.” We need purpose. We need hope. We something to run TO, not just FROM. We need each other—in all of our messiness. We need a meal that draws all people together, common in both our sin and our redemption.

Pastor Tobi White

Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church

Lincoln, NE