Holy Week: Maundy Thursday

During Holy Week we are invited to consider Jesus’ final days and wonder what those events might say to us today.

While they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to his disciples, saying, “Take and eat; this is my body.”  Then he took a cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you.” This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. I tell you, I will not drink from this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.” When they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.  (Matthew 26: 26-30)

It had all the elements of a wonderful supper – a leisurely gathering with close friends, an abundance of food and drink, singing, relaxing, and storytelling.  This pandemic year robbed us of this kind of evening – the profound gift of breaking bread together with loved ones.

So let’s start there – remembering what we have lost in the past year, the meals we didn’t share, the holidays we missed, the hugs that weren’t given, the postponed visits. If you could make up for lost time, what would be your ideal gathering? Who would be there? What would be on the menu?  What stories would you tell (again – because all the best stories deserve to be repeated). What memories would you share? What is the soundtrack? The next time we share a meal with family or friends, those moments when we look across the table at ones we love, let’s not take it for granted. Let us be aware that we are sharing a holy moment.

And what about this holy moment – this meal that Jesus knew would be his last. It is a meal of love and forgiveness, new life and promise. Everyone sitting at that table would let Jesus down. Every single one would fail the test of loyalty and friendship.  But Jesus shared his bread, his meal, and his life with them.

Maybe this meal will make us wonder – how is God feeding our spirits today? What gifts are we being offered today? Have we taken time to give God thanks and praise? Are we aware that there is always room at God’s table for each one of us? Can we be inspired by Jesus’ generosity and graciousness and love?

Corona and Tenebrae (shadows)

“I love the Tenebrae service so much, I would celebrate it even if no one showed up.” That statement will be put the test tomorrow evening as we prepare for Maundy Thursday. When I made that declaration over the years, I was thinking in terms of potential snowstorms that could keep people away or the busy-ness of schedules that interfered with a mid-week evening service. I was asserting that the beauty and solemnity of recounting Jesus’ final hours would compel me to commemorate Jesus’ Last Supper and the desertion of his followers.

But let’s be honest. Maundy Thursday (or Holy Thursday) is never a well-attended worship service. Far different than the standing-room-only experience of Easter, the Tenebrae service (of “service of shadows”) is a somber evening gathering attended by a handful of people. Those who do come are always moved by the power of our sacred texts that describe with moving detail Jesus’ final meal with his disciples. We listen to Jesus’ anguished prayer in the garden. Our hearts are moved by the deep hurt of betrayal that leads to his arrest followed by the callousness of a sham trial.

It is hard to hear the story relentlessly unfold as it brings us closer and closer to Golgotha and crucifixion. The fear, agony, and loss are palpable. Because it is so powerful, I’ve always wanted more people to experience what is the center, the absolute foundation, of our Christian story. We get to hear about God who loves us so much that God will not avoid the absolute hardest parts of being human. Jesus lives through loss, fear, betrayal, sadness, isolation, and excruciating pain. And he does it for us. When those terrifying experiences enter into our lives, we can turn to Jesus knowing that he walked through that dark valley before us. It is a gut-wrenching and yet life-giving story. It is vital that we hear it.

And thus my commitment to proclaim the story even if no one was there to listen.

So this year on Maundy Thursday I will be in the sanctuary alone with my family and our wonderful pianist Nancy. We will recount the story that has been given to Christians to tell. It is a story of loss and hope, agony and assurance.

I hope you will be with me in Spirit and perhaps also on Facebook Live. You are invited to light a candle – electric or wax – and listen to the story. As the story is read, we will extinguish candles to represent the approaching shadows of loss and death.  You’ll be invited to put out your candle. And then finally to light it again as we cling to the hope of the Christ candle shining in the darkness.

In this time of sickness, loss, uncertainty and death, we need to hear the story of Jesus’ undying love.