Maundy...Maundy...

Maunday Thursday

Theology in the Trenches

By Kathleen Kjolhaug

 

Today, as I write, it is Maunday Thursday, or Holy Thursday; by the time you read this, it will be well past.  It’s the day when we remember the Last Supper, or the final meal Jesus ate with His disciples.  He washed their feet, served them a meal, and prophesied what was to come.  Following this day is Good Friday, the day we remember His crucifixion.  Last but not least, during this holy week, we celebrate Easter by remembering his resurrection.

As believers, we know the significance of all that took place during this final week in the life of Christ.  It is upon this that all of Christianity rests.  It is truth, and it is a time worthy of pause.

However, as a child, I remember it much differently.  Each service was long and drawn out because not only was the entire account read, but various reenactments took place.  Washing the feet of one another helped etch the event forever in my mind.  The solemn act was sacred as was Good Friday when all stood in wait to kiss the foot of the cross.

Forever sacred and searing were the memories embedded.  Saturday was our time to set out our Easter attire, dye the eggs, clean the house, and prepare for the relatives who would soon be over for ham dinner.  By the time Easter morning came, all I could think of was that it seemed like yesterday that we had gone to church.

Today, as I breezed by the church on the way to the grocery store, I remembered what was important as a child.  It wasn’t that we had to go to church, but it was the value of being able to attend to that which honored our Lord Jesus Christ.   

I sent a quick text to one of my children: “Holy Thursday.”  They simply responded, “Okay.” I felt sad that they have not shared in the same rich experiences I grew up with.  However, I was also peaceful knowing that it was because of His death and resurrection that they had a living relationship with Him.  I have trusted that He will bring about their own sacred moments where He personally speaks, calling them to live the gospel.

One afternoon, a perfect time to introduce such a sacred moment crossed my path.  While explaining about the washing of His feet to our oldest grandchild, I read the Easter story.  I then got out a small bowl and within it placed the little feet of a 2 ½ year old which fit delicately within.  She was mesmerized as I prayed to God that faith, as big as a mustard seed, take root and grow.  Granted she was upon her own throne amidst potty training with nowhere to go, but I used the time wisely. 

Maundy Thursday calls us to be feet washers.  Good Friday calls us to be kissing the wounds of the wounded, and Easter Sunday empowers us to demonstrate a living faith.  All this is possible because “it was while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).  Amen.