Maundy Thursday
I went to the Western (Wailing) Wall on Thursday to see if there were many Jews there praying to mark the beginning of Pesach. Come to find out, there weren’t, but when I handed my bag to the security guard to be searched there was a problem. I had brought some pita as a snack, and I was informed that I could not bring the chametz into the holy area of the Western Wall during Pesach. I felt like a confused, silly goy, and I had to leave my bread by the metal detector while I went in to scope out the area. It seems that Jewish guards, who are normally on the lookout for terrorists, turn their attention to more serious matters of ceremonial purity during Pesach.
Thursday I celebrated Maundy Thursday for the first time. This holy day commemorates the last supper of Christ, his institution of the Lord’s Supper, his washing of the disciples’ feet, and his agony in the Garden of Gethsemane. I had the chance to visit the Upper Room, the traditional place of the Last Supper(and very similar in appearance to the room in DaVinci’s famous painting) during the day, and later attended Maundy Thursday services with the St. Andrew’s congregation. The evening services marked all three major events in the final night of Christ’s pre-resurrected life. The pastors of the congregation, dressed in their liturgical finery, spent several minutes washing the feet of congregants who came forward. It was a moving reenactment of the final hours of Christ life, where our Lord led his disciples through humble service. I chose not to participate, but eagerly watched as people went forward bare-footed to receive their washing.
Following the foot-washing was a sharing of the Lord’s Supper. Thankfully, the church offers communion even to those who are not official members of the congregation. I was able and eager to participate in the meal remembering Christ’s final night.
After Communion was finished, the pastors “stripped the altar.” They removed all the candles, clothes, and other symbols of faith from the altars and podiums up front. As a final symbolic gesture of the evening, they removed their own pastoral robes. The “stripping of the altar,” as the ceremony is known, symbolizes Christ being stripped of his glory during the Passion.
From the church we proceeded to a place overlooking the traditional sight of the Garden of Gethsemane. Here we remembered Christ’s agony as he submitted to the Father’s will and the taking-on of humanity’s sin. After the service was over, I went to the Church of All Nations which is located adjacent to the Garden. Inside, the church was packed with people remembering the anguish of our Lord. I chose to stay outside near the garden, which is a square plot of land, perhaps a quarter acre, surrounded by a fence. Visitors are not allowed inside the garden (for fear that the ancient olive trees might be stripped clean by souvenir/holy object hunters), but can spend time outside in thought and prayer.
In the Garden of Gethsemane are olive trees dating back perhaps thousands of years. Their disfigured and twisted forms cast eerie shadows over the ground where Christ sweat drops of blood. It’s easy to imagine our Savior here in the darkness and isolation of the olive grove. You can almost see him, falling face-down into the rocky soil crying out, “My father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me.” Here is the God-Man, laid-low by the weight of humankind’s sinfulness.
Many pilgrims line the Garden, praying and weeping at the thought of our Redeemer’s pain. We want to comfort him, to do something to ease his anguish, to keep vigil for him as the disciples had been asked to do. The agony that Christ endures, however, he endures alone. He is “despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; as one from whom men hide their faces he (is) despised, and we esteem… him not.” (Isaiah 53:3) Even his disciples abandon Jesus, and as pilgrims tonight we too will eventually leave the garden where Christ suffers alone.
Thursday I celebrated Maundy Thursday for the first time. This holy day commemorates the last supper of Christ, his institution of the Lord’s Supper, his washing of the disciples’ feet, and his agony in the Garden of Gethsemane. I had the chance to visit the Upper Room, the traditional place of the Last Supper(and very similar in appearance to the room in DaVinci’s famous painting) during the day, and later attended Maundy Thursday services with the St. Andrew’s congregation. The evening services marked all three major events in the final night of Christ’s pre-resurrected life. The pastors of the congregation, dressed in their liturgical finery, spent several minutes washing the feet of congregants who came forward. It was a moving reenactment of the final hours of Christ life, where our Lord led his disciples through humble service. I chose not to participate, but eagerly watched as people went forward bare-footed to receive their washing.
Following the foot-washing was a sharing of the Lord’s Supper. Thankfully, the church offers communion even to those who are not official members of the congregation. I was able and eager to participate in the meal remembering Christ’s final night.
After Communion was finished, the pastors “stripped the altar.” They removed all the candles, clothes, and other symbols of faith from the altars and podiums up front. As a final symbolic gesture of the evening, they removed their own pastoral robes. The “stripping of the altar,” as the ceremony is known, symbolizes Christ being stripped of his glory during the Passion.
From the church we proceeded to a place overlooking the traditional sight of the Garden of Gethsemane. Here we remembered Christ’s agony as he submitted to the Father’s will and the taking-on of humanity’s sin. After the service was over, I went to the Church of All Nations which is located adjacent to the Garden. Inside, the church was packed with people remembering the anguish of our Lord. I chose to stay outside near the garden, which is a square plot of land, perhaps a quarter acre, surrounded by a fence. Visitors are not allowed inside the garden (for fear that the ancient olive trees might be stripped clean by souvenir/holy object hunters), but can spend time outside in thought and prayer.
In the Garden of Gethsemane are olive trees dating back perhaps thousands of years. Their disfigured and twisted forms cast eerie shadows over the ground where Christ sweat drops of blood. It’s easy to imagine our Savior here in the darkness and isolation of the olive grove. You can almost see him, falling face-down into the rocky soil crying out, “My father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me.” Here is the God-Man, laid-low by the weight of humankind’s sinfulness.
Many pilgrims line the Garden, praying and weeping at the thought of our Redeemer’s pain. We want to comfort him, to do something to ease his anguish, to keep vigil for him as the disciples had been asked to do. The agony that Christ endures, however, he endures alone. He is “despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; as one from whom men hide their faces he (is) despised, and we esteem… him not.” (Isaiah 53:3) Even his disciples abandon Jesus, and as pilgrims tonight we too will eventually leave the garden where Christ suffers alone.
posted by Jason | 11:05 PM
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