Maundy Thursday

Maundy Thursday is intended to be a tender yet wrenching day in our worship.  We read the Gospel of the dinner Jesus is sharing with the Apostles.  We wash each other’s feet as Jesus washed the feet of the men at table with Him.  Then we strip the altar of all the beautiful things that we use in our liturgy.  Everything goes out – candles, Chalice and Paten, the fair linen on the altar, all of it.  Then we depart into the night with no benediction, no amen.  Stark.  Lonely.  Silent.

This service is the first of the Easter Tridium – that one unbroken service of Maunday Thursday, Good Friday and the Easter Vigil, leading to the Great Hallelujah of the Easter Resurrection Celebration.  The journey from dinner through the garden and the betrayal, the death and burial, to glorious resurrection and eternal life is not meant to be a yawn for us.  The liturgy intends to catch us up short, to make us feel as well as think, to challenge and assure us of God’s joy in us and love for us.

All the events around the arrest, the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus were shared with His friends and followers.  It will seem strange tonight not to be washing your feet and sharing your prayers.  Physical distancing is hard, especially when our presence together gives depth to our worship.

As Jesus kneels to wash Peter’s feet, Peter protests that Jesus will never perform that humble task usually done by the lowliest servant in the household.  Jesus’s response is a promise to us as it was to Peter:  Unless I wash you, you have no share in me.  Our baptism is the symbol of that washing Jesus does to our souls so that we are made fit to stand before God, redeemed and forgiven.  When we share in the washing of each other’s feet we are remembering our own forgiveness and sharing in the grace given to each one of us.

Personally, I have never faced a more difficult Easter, separated from you by a danger we cannot control or fix.  My prayer is that you are safe, that you know you are loved and held in prayers.  I pray that the sadness of Good Friday, the loneliness of Holy Saturday will open our hearts to the joy of Easter morning.  I pray that you will remember the price of your redemption and the joy of your reconciliation with God.  I pray most of all that we will be back together soon and that we will continue to grow in grace and joy and in love for each other.

Blessed be God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, now and forever.  Amen.