Maundy Thursday, Day 1 of the Triduum, April 14, 2022
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
Master, are you going to wash my feet?
Jesus knew that his hour had come to pass from this world to the Father. He loved his own in the world, and he loved them to the end.
What do we Christians say when our friend dies? He passed away. She passed away. They are no longer with us; now they have passed “from this world to the Father.” Their hour has come. One day ours will come as well.
So how do we live our lives in the meantime?
Fully aware that the Father had put everything into his power and that he had come from God and was returning to God, Jesus rose from supper and took off his outer garments. He took a towel and tied it around his waist. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet.
Washing each other’s feet was not something the disciples thought to do. Serving my friend and family and neighbor by entering their space and intimately serving them … I might wipe Jasper’s nose, but I wouldn’t wipe Andrew’s, or Marc’s or Mary Kay’s. And I might help Jasper or Miles put on their socks in a pinch, or even help them in the bathroom, but I don’t imagine doing that for my neighbor or my son or my sister.
“Master, are you going to wash my feet?” Well, yes, Peter, yes I am. And Peter said, “You will never wash my feet.”
And he pulled his feet away. Jesus looked into his face, and he reached out with his washcloth.
Unless I wash you, you can have no part in what I am doing. And Peter laughed as Jesus smiled, and Peter said, “Well then, Master. Not just my feet then. Wash my hands! Wash my head!”
And Jesus laughed too, and washed Peter’s feet. Not any of the rest of him.
I am concerned with holiness, not hygiene, Peter. So now you’re clean. And if I, the master and teacher, washed your feet, you must now wash each other’s feet.
Jesus tells Peter to do what he has done. He tells me to do what he has done.
It was true for Peter and it’s true for me. My “knowledge” often exceeds my obedience. But my knowledge gets me mostly nowhere with my friends and family or my neighbors. Being obedient to God’s whisper in my ear usually means getting my hands dirty somehow. Which gets me a lot further with those same familiar folks.
If you go to church on Maundy (Holy) Thursday, you will mark the beginning of the Triduum (the Great Three Days,) and also mark the institution of the Lord’s Supper, given this night for the first time to Jesus’ disciples. Often a foot washing service is included, and the service ends with the Stripping of the Altar.
My brother-in-law Rev. Jim Cravens, rector of Trinity Episcopal Church in Lincoln, Illinois from 1996, led services during Holy Week in Champaign after his retirement in 2010. Margaret and I joined my sister and Jim for those services. Jim loves them so much. “I think the liturgies printed in the Book of Common Prayer are magnificent,” he wrote. Like many churches, the Episcopal Church has had its share of debate in the first decades of the 21st century. Jim continues to love the prayers of his church, and he continues to serve often as pastor in central Illinois congregations.
I remember that particular Holy Week’s Stripping of the Altar, when Jim was leading the services. The “Stripping” includes a ritual eating of the entire host and drinking of all the wine, so the altar is left bare on Good Friday. Hopefully, there is not a lot left over but regardless, the priest finds a way to get that done. On the evening we attended, as I recall, Jim was grateful for our help. And I remember being especially thankful for that opportunity.
Our minds and our bodies, our words and our stomachs, all honored Jesus that night. It was wonderful.
(Exodus 12, Psalm 116, 1 Corinthians 11, John 13)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
#