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Good morning. Three months ago Steve Smith was named Australian of the Year by The Australian newspaper after remarkable achievements that drew comparison with the greatest-ever cricketer, Don Bradman. Today he walks the street of shame, receiving, as captain, a one-year ban for a ball-tampering scheme perceived by the world as transgressing the spirit of the game, and embarrassingly contradicting the high moral tone the Australian team had proclaimed on this issue for a number of years. The fascination of this story is not just the question of whether the conspiracy was egregious or commonplace, spontaneous or longstanding – but of who was involved and who knew. Suddenly the Australian cricket team have been under almost unbearable scrutiny, held accountable for anything they might have secreted in their pockets or even underpants for the last few years. Some reports suggest the team is falling apart, torn between loyalty, friendship, honour and truth. The vice-captain has been singled out by some as the chief culprit, and photographs suggest he’s been ostracised by the other players. If a team is like a body, this is like watching that body disintegrate. Two thousand years ago another body disintegrated. The gospels portray Jesus as a teacher, healer, a charismatic leader, who gathered around him a tight-knit team of disciples. At the height of his ministry you can imagine him being named Israelite of the Year. But on this day, Maundy Thursday, when he gathered his team around him, it was a more fragile group than it appeared. Jesus held up a loaf of bread, and said, ‘This is my body, broken for you.’ It was an expression with many layers of meaning. Within minutes, the tight-knit body would be broken, as Judas left the meal to betray him to the authorities. (Perhaps today Judas would have sent out a press release, or a tweet.) Within hours, the body would be further broken as Peter denied and the rest of the team fled. Next Jesus’ body would itself be broken, whipped by soldiers, hung out to dry, pierced by nails and a sword. But that was not all Jesus said as he held out the bread to his team. He also said, ‘Do this and re-member me.’ Listen closely: ‘re-member.’ There’s nothing better than to be a member of a team where you all bring out the best in each other and become more than the sum of your parts. There’s nothing worse than when such a team disintegrates, betrays, denies, flees. That’s the context of these words. Break bread and re-member. A community, a friendship, a human body can be utterly broken. But it can be re-membered in God. That’s Jesus’ promise at the Last Supper: God will put all our members back together, and literally re-member us. That’s what resurrection is.