The Last Supper

It was the Feast of Passover. Jesus gathered His twelve disciples in an upper room for the meal. He knew the hour had come for Him to leave this world and go to the Father.

He rose from the table. He wrapped a towel around His waist. He poured water into a basin and began to wash the feet of the disciples — work that only a servant would do.

Peter drew back. "Lord, are you going to wash my feet?" Jesus said, "What I am doing you do not understand now, but later you will." He came to each one in turn, even Judas. When He was done, He said, "I have set you an example. Love one another as I have loved you."

Jesus took bread. He gave thanks. He broke it and gave it to them. "This is my body, given for you. Do this in remembrance of me." He took the cup. "This cup is the new covenant in my blood, poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins."

"One of you will betray me," He said. Each disciple was troubled. "Is it I, Lord?" Judas slipped out into the night. The plan was already set.

Jesus and the eleven went out to the Mount of Olives, to a garden called Gethsemane. Jesus prayed there long into the night. "Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me. Yet not my will, but yours, be done." He sweat like drops of blood. An angel came and strengthened Him. He was ready to do what He had come to do.