Maundy Thursday Saint Mark’s, March 28, 2024, 6 p.m.
It is now after midnight. We walk cautiously with Suzanna and carefully retrace our steps from the familiar olive garden across the Kidron Valley back to that upper room where we were full of joy and hope just hours ago. It is so dark, but there are still crowds of people in Jerusalem for the Passover. Perhaps no one will notice us. We hug closely to each building, trying not to be noticed. Our Teacher, Jesus, has just been arrested! We all went to the Mount of Olives and the garden, where we often prayed together. Suddenly, our quiet, darken night was disturbed by the light of lanterns and torches, and a detachment of soldiers with weapons and police from the chief priests and the Pharisees. They arrested Jesus and took him away! And one of our own, Judas, seemed to have led them to Jesus!
We have no idea where Jesus is now. We sat in the garden for what seemed like hours, not believing what had just happened, and cried uncontrollably, tearing our clothes and pulling our hair. We did not know what to do.
So, what do women do when they do not know what to do? We do our everyday routine work. We decide to return to the upper room where we had that last meal, and clean up the dishes and leftovers. Maybe someone will come there and tell us the news. It was scary, dark, and cold in the garden. This upper room was a place of love and beauty. We return to that sacred space. Finally, we see the building. We climb the stairs. Candles are still burning on the table. The roasted lamb shank bone is still left at the center of the table where the Master had reclined, but the room is in disarray. There is that empty chair for Elijah, but now all the places are empty.
We had spent so much time cleaning the room in preparation for the Passover meal, ensuring no food had come in contact with leavened food. Now, perhaps we can calm our fears by doing busy work, straightening up after the huge feast. In the corner are leftover pieces of parsley, horseradish root, roasted brown eggs, and unleavened bread. Suzanna and I made the
Haroset (hare o sat), our mother’s recipe, with apples, walnuts, raisins, and dates. Her secret ingredient is a little cinnamon and wine to taste. It is completely eaten. She would be so proud of us. On the table are still half-empty bowels of salt water. Some wine cups are also not empty. Indeed, many guests became a little tipsy or sleepy after the 4th cup. And then, of course, there are all these dirty plates used for the different parts of the meal. This will keep us busy for several hours. Then we see fragments of the loaf of bread that Jesus took, gave thanks, and broke it saying, “This is my body, that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” There is his half-filled cup of wine, from which he drank/ after he told us, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me. For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.”
” We did not know how to respond. We do not understand. The Lord’s death? A new covenant? Every day, he seems to tell us something new.
And then we see the towel, the basin Jesus used to wash and dry our feet. He took off his outer robe, tied a towel around himself, knelt down, poured water into a basin, washed our feet, and told us we must do this likewise. What does he mean? Did he mean this literally, or is there some deeper meaning? Then he told us he is giving us a new commandment to love one another as he has loved,/ and that people will know we are his disciples by this love./
We begin weeping again. We try to console ourselves by singing the traditional hymns, the Hallel (huh lel), Psalms 113 through 118, sung after supper during evening prayers on the first night of Passover. Just hours ago, we sang the hymns with the Teacher on the way to the garden. As we remember his calming voice, our singing soon turns again into sobbing. Suzanna says a stranger in the garden told her this would be our last supper with him. This cannot be true. We had a glorious Passover meal together. This cannot be the last.
We begin to compare this meal to the previous festive family meal we had together at Martha, Mary, and Lazarus’s home just six days earlier. It was such an eventful dinner as well. Martha was the main person preparing that meal in her home, while many more women besides Suzanna were helping us tonight. All the disciples, including Judas, were at Martha’s as well as in this upper room tonight.
Judas! What has happened to him? We have been so busy these last months that we did not notice a change in him. We think back. He had become more of a loner, isolated, saying very little. It was as if he had withdrawn from the community. Yes, we see it now, but we did not notice it at the time. We are too busy with our own agendas, feeding and listening to the Teacher.
Again, we think back to this previous meal with Mary and Martha. Mary had anointed Jesus’ feet. Tonight, it was Jesus as the host, washing our feet. We remember how astonished we were a week ago by Mary’s actions, a woman touching a man’s feet, not her husband. But the Teacher praised her. Again, he must have been teaching us something new, telling us an old taboo of not touching someone might be put aside, a new commandment. Then tonight, Jesus does the same as Mary did to all of us, including the women. A man, a Teacher, touching the feet of men and women, performing a ritual that servants usually do./
The dishes are cleaned, and the room is straightened, but we are still just as sad and confused. Our eyes are swollen from crying./ The sun is coming up. We hear a cock crowing. Crowds are starting to gather outside. None of the disciples have returned to give us answers. We decide to venture into the streets to see what all the noise is about./ Come with us. Stay with us. We need your company. We are very afraid. Every day, and especially last night, Jesus teaches us about love and finding that love in community. We desperately need you to stay in community with us/ and wait/ and walk with us/ to learn what this is all about. Come with us as we walk down the stairs of this upper room and venture out into early dawn.
Joanna Seibert