Maundy Thursday
Light a candle. This is the night.
You ate again with those you would have avoided and only know because Jesus invited you on this journey together. You’re nervous in this city that tried to stone him. You eat and he asks you to remember him each time you gather and eat together.
Then like the woman who anointed his feet, he did what she did. Love leaned down before you and washed from your feet the dust of the day, dried your feet, and cautioned that if you can’t receive, you will miss Love altogether. Peter resists, then receives.
Then to be sure you got it, Jesus calls it a commandment: You do the same; love as I have loved you. You watch him take the three and go to pray. You only wake as Judas returns, kisses Jesus, and the soldiers bind Jesus and take him away. You’re lost. You can hardly breathe.
This is the night. The night in which the one through whom you most felt God’s presence, the one through whom you most felt God’s love, the one through whom you most felt God’s blessing is taken away. Gone.
Snuff the candle.
Remember. Receive. Breathe. Wait.
