Maundy Thursday

Holy Week is a busy time in the Church calendar, and I like to attend as many of the events as I can. We had our usual Holy Communion service in the morning, at which I did the readings. As a symbol of Jesus humbling himself and serving the twelve disciples by washing their feet, we had our hands washed (bending down to our feet being physically beyond Rev Christine).

After coffee, there was just time to do a quick scoot round Tesco for some bits, get some lunch, clear up and check emails. Then it was back over to the church hall ready for the Agapé meal at 6pm, which marks the Last Supper at Passover. The three simple courses are interspersed with hymns, readings, sermon and prayers. Once finished, we went into the church for communion and then the altars were both stripped completely bare, to readings from Lamentations - a collection of poetic laments for the destruction of Jerusalem. At the end, the lights were turned off and we were left in darkness. It’s a moving moment. With nothing at the altar but an empty wooden table - no candles, no chairs, no cloth, no Bible, not even the wooden cross which is normally always there - I felt bereft, without hope, or warmth, or light. For a Christian, this is a glimpse of what life would be like with no faith, no anchor, no Jesus. For me, that would be too awful to bear.