On this night, Jesus celebrated the Passover with his disciples, said the prayers, and recounted the Exodus from Egypt. He remained faithful to Mosaic Law, all the while knowing he was the new Passover, the Paschal lamb to be slaughtered. He gave us the Eucharist, his eternal memory and presence. But, I also learned a new thing today—thank you Kate Bowler—about the meaning of Maundy. The derivation of Maundy comes from the Latin, mandamus, or commandment. During Holy or Maundy Thursday, Jesus washed the disciples’ feet, much to their protestations, particularly by Peter, whom I find to be the most human disciple because he insisted that his faith would never be shaken, though it was. But Jesus didn’t stop there, he went on to wash the feet of Judas, his betrayer, as well. Despite the disciples’ protests, Jesus answers, “I have given you a model to follow, so that what I have done for you, you should also do.”—This, a commandment to serve.
At the end of Holy Thursday services, the Eucharist is removed from the church and placed in repose to allow individuals to spend time in prayer, as Jesus spent his last hours in the Garden of Gethsemane. He asked, probably begged even, his disciples to stay awake with him because He was grieving. He knew He was about to die. He prayed that the cup be passed from Him, but in the end, he offered Himself, “yet not as I will, but as you will.”
And, his disciples? They couldn’t handle it. They couldn’t stay awake. When the mobs finally came and Judas gave Jesus over, the disciples ran away. And Peter, being Peter, denied that he knew Jesus three times over the course of the night. When dawn arrived and the cock crowed, Peter wept bitterly.
In these strange days in which we find ourselves, many are following the mandamus to serve, whether as frontline healthcare providers, first responders, teachers working remotely, essential workers, parents and caregivers who are taking over the role of educators, those who are shopping for the elderly, raising funds for PPE for our healthcare workers, providing meals, sewing masks, and even staying at home.
But many, like the disciples, can’t handle these days. Maybe, they’ve lost their jobs and are afraid for themselves and their families—worried how they will pay the mortgage, the rent, the bills, or put food on the table. Maybe, they don’t have reliable Internet connections or even a computer, smartphone, or iPad so that their children can do their schoolwork. Perhaps, they don’t feel “resilient” or unable to “pivot” at this moment. Maybe, they don’t feel particularly grateful right now. They’re not being “productive.” I wrote a little about this earlier today so I apologize if you’ve read this already. But, I think it bears repeating.
I’ve heard this phrase, “When this is over and we get back to ‘normal’ life” said far too often, not with respect to the COVID-19 pandemic, but to any number of life’s tragedies. Oh my dear ones, here’s what I learned from having cancer (twice), we’re not going back to normal. This event (like many others we’ve experienced) will indelibly mark a before and after in all our lives, in our children's lives. We cannot even imagine at this point how much our world will change. What I also learned from cancer is that I needed to grieve, really grieve all that I (and my family) had lost. I was angry, sad, and outraged. I had to go through all of it and burn my former life to ashes.
Once I did, I was ready to create a new life for myself. I could rise like the proverbial Phoenix. This is not the same as “getting back to normal” nor is it “a new normal.” It’s a long painful process, a descent into death, if you will. So, if you don’t feel joyous or #blessed right now, it’s okay. You don’t have to be someone else's “inspiration.” You don’t have to be strong. You don’t have to be positive. You can sit and be with whatever you feel now.
In the end, Jesus forgave his disciples for falling asleep. He forgave Peter who denied him, not once, but three times. We’re allowed to be perfectly imperfect, most especially when we’re weak.
