A Post for Maundy Thursday

Today is the day which is traditionally referred to as Maundy Thursday. If we were all able to be with one another I know I would be at the Maundy Thursday service at Highlands this evening. It is one of my favorite. The other one I really like is the Ash Wednesday service at Highlands. They both have a sacred feel to them.

On Ash Wednesday we heard a poem read to us called "Blessing of the Dust" by Jan Richardson. It goes like this:

"Blessing of the Dust"

All those days you felt like dust, like dirt,
as if all you had to do was turn you face toward the wind
and be scattered to the four corners
or swept away by the smallest breath
as insubstantial.

Did you not know what the Holy One can do with dust?

This is the day we freely say we are scorched.
This is the hour we are marked
by what has made it through the burning.

This is the moment we ask for the blessing
that lives within the ancient ashes,
that makes its home inside the soil
of this sacred earth.

So let us be marked not for sorrow.
And let us be marked not for shame.
Let us be marked not for false humility
or for thinking we are less than we are

but for claiming what God can do
within the dust,
within the dirt,
within the stuff of which the world is made,

and the stars that blaze in our bones,
and the galaxies that spiral
inside the smudge we bear.

-Jan Richardson

These days it feels as though what we used to know has turned to ash and dust and now we are remembering, grieving, and hoping.  We bear the ashes of our lives that we used to have just a few weeks ago.  But, lovely ones, "Do you not know what God can do with ashes?"  She can restore us, kind of like a phoenix rising from the ashes to be reborn again, but in the context of our own lives, however that may look for each of us.

I'll leave you all to meditate on that for a moment.

So, Maundy Thursday.  The night that Jesus was betrayed.  The night Jesus washed his disciple's feet.  The night of that last supper.  When he didn't want that burden to bear but was his to bear nevertheless.  When he showed love for each of us and all of us, regardless of class, race, status, jobs, beliefs, relationships.  It is a night with great impact, importance, and meaning.  It is a sacred night.

Can you imagine being a disciple during that time?  Can you imagine your feet being washed by your teacher?  What must they have been thinking?  How would they feel to learn that one of their own betrayed their beloved teacher?  It's no wonder the ones who went with Jesus to the Garden of Gethsemane fell asleep.  It was a lot to process.

One of the reasons I like the act of washing one another's feet is because it connects us to each other often in a way that causes us to drop our guard for that moment.  In that moment we are each vulnerable because the very act of washing a person's feet is an act of vulnerability.  It is a way for us to see each other in our fully human state.  We are given a chance to see the divine.  It's a sacred moment.

I can only imagine what was going through the disciple's heads while all of these events transpired, of first the supper, then the garden, and then the arrest.  That's a lot to have happen in the span of only one night!  And then crucifixion the next day and watching the death of your friend and teacher.

It makes me wonder what it is we are dying to during this time of worldwide pandemic.  I don't mean the virus itself because there is altogether way too much death already from that.  I mean in terms of our own personal lives.  What has had a metaphorical death?  For me it's been expectations, loss of a job to do during the day, and the rush of feeling the need to always be busy, to name a few.  What has it been for you?

On the other hand, what have you been learning from this?  I've been going through a whole period of intense introspection and have been able to see growth in myself that I've missed before.  Learning to re-adjust to being with only myself and learning the value in getting to know me- kind of like me dating myself.  And yes, I would date myself!  Something else I've been made aware of is how precious the time that we have been given is.  There won't be another time like it, ever.  Being able to enjoy each moment given to us and the life we have, no matter how it looks is a gift, whether we can see it yet or not.  Why wish this time away?  It has much to teach us.  We just need to be for a while.  Sit with the discomfort.  Sit with the pain and joy.  Be restless.  Be.  All of it is okay!  I think it's actually really good we get to take a break from life and the routine we've been stuck in for so long and to get this chance to sort of come back to ourselves and to what really matters.

I hope for us that we don't go back to what we perceived as normal.  Normal was broken, as we can plainly see.  Our systems that we have been relying upon are very broken and need fixing.  Systems such as the health care system, acts of racism and racism in general, capitalism, the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer, people not being able to make enough to live on despite working themselves into the ground each week, the fact that so many of us are one paycheck away (as we have been collectively realizing) from being without, religious systems that claim to be Christian and who claim to love but don't and end up spreading more hate, pain, and brokenness, and so on and so forth.  We need change, and we need it desperately.  How we have been functioning doesn't work.  It's broken and it needs to be fixed.  My hope for all of this is that we will keep seeing the ways in which the systems are broken and that we will strive towards fixing them.

I wonder what was going through Jesus's head during the night of the last supper?  Was he afraid, nervous, and anxious for the future?  Was he at peace with it?  Probably all of the above.  He was human after all.

As we watch our world of the familiar and normal crumble to ash and dust around us, let us remember that after this death comes resurrection.  After this comes hope, and it may not be what we think it will be or look like.  But there is hope, and there will be life after this.

We will be okay.