Skip to main content

Maundy Thursday

...the Son of Man came to serve not to be served
 
   If I had to decide which Mass of the liturgical year is my favorite this would probably be it. From the beginning of the Mass where we sing the "Gloria" to the removing of Christ from the tabernacle, we experience the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. And, as humans...our souls need the highs to combat the lows, but we need the lows to appreciate the highs.
   Maundy Thursday is the day we celebrate the institution of the Eucharist and the priesthood: two sacraments that remind us of God's imparted grace. During last night's homily, my priest starts out with this, "The body and blood of Christ: it is not cannibalism which is repugnant, nor is it just symbolic which is palatable." So, what do we have? We have the pure body and blood of Christ given in the form of bread and wine. We are the outsiders of the box and yet the truthsayers. We see the Eucharist for what it truly is: the only thing that has metaphysical change in form and still remains the same.
  And, last night, while I anticipated the washing of the feet by my priest, as I listened to the gospel reading, I breathed over the lump in my throat. I knew what was coming. "We are challenged to let Jesus love us. Jesus will always love us, that is no question, but allowing him to--that is acceptance. That is the challenge." Then I watched him disrobe. My priest, my stand in for Christ, took off his chasuble and adorned only his alb and stole...and knelt. He knelt before 12 people, representatives of the disciples. He washed and kissed, washed and kissed.
   Then he took the Savior, my Savior, his Savior, and gently enrobed Him, walking Him out of the sanctuary to leave those of us behind--cold and abandoned and wanting the warmth that comes from the true presence of Christ.
   It is in these two institutions: the priesthood and the Eucharist where Jesus, the Son of God, became slave. "Savior became slave." And, it is Maundy Thursday where we recognize this; we remember this; we see this, and we can do nothing but await his final hours.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Beneath the Weeping Willow

  "The willow submits to the wind and prospers until one day it is many willows—a wall against the wind. This is the willow's purpose." —  Frank Herbert, Dune   Time, although a very evasive concept, is in each moment a gift. And most often, I don't stop to look back at the road I have traveled on. Even more so, the road Justin and I have travelled together. But today it is warranted. Today marks 9 years as husband and wife, and 9 years of truly some amazing and adverse moments. We have lost the most cherished and birthed the most loved all the while interwoven with each other.    I will be the first to admit that our day to day appears to some: mundane. However, inside the ordinary he and I together have understood the profundity of love. It is brash and loud, but it is also cautious and quiet.  "Love is a many splendored thing."  It is the true basis of community, and I am proud of the community we have built.   The  willow  is the t...

A human mirror

  I look at myself, a lot. I think it has something to do with the fact that I didn't think myself attractive for a long time. Now, I can look at myself even when someone else is in the bathroom. Before, I entered with head bowed and left the same. There are times when I look at myself 3 times before I leave. Most of the time, I focus on one aspect of myself: my eyes, my hair, my waist line, my clothes...something. I can see how this seems egotistical, but perhaps I am making up for lost mirror time.   However, I can only remember one time that I actually looked into the mirror to see something deeper than my outward appearance. And it scared me. I honestly didn't think it was possible to look into the mirror and truly see oneself. It always seemed so cliché. Until I did it.   That was 4 months ago. The moment I decided to walk away from a "relationship" that was nothing more than a confusing drag. It held me bound and clipped the wings I knew God had given me to f...

79 days and a canker sore

  I haven't written in what seems like forever. I think of something I want to say then sleep takes over, or it is time to get out of the shower. But, I figure I should. So many thoughts...so little time. Today marks 79 days till I am no longer able to mark the "singles" box on any for I fill out. Today marks 79 days till I am no longer a Dever. Today...tomorrow...forever...   I don't stress often. Or at least, I don't feel as though I do. I often feel more overwhelmed but not necessarily stressed. I always thought I handled stress well. In fact, I took a test once that was measuring stress levels. I remember answering... yes to a death (my brother) job change (fired and new job) life change (went back to school) traveling (long vacation) all within a 6 month period. The test concluded that I was stressed to the max. I specifically remember taking this test on the toilet, and thinking... huh... I don't feel it.   However, the older I get, I tend to listen to...