Maundy Thursday

It all comes down to one thing

The redwing blackbird is outside my window calling plaintively in the rain. This is not a lovely, warm rain. It’s an in-your-bones-cold-maybe-we’ll-turn-this-into-snow kind of rain that hits the windows with gelatinous clumps.

So, of course, I plan to go out in it. Auggie has an interview with the volunteer coordinator of a hospital guest house, and he also has a chiropractic appointment. And it’s Maundy Thursday, the remembrance of the last supper; the first eucharist. Maundy is a corruption of the Latin for “mandate,” because it is a commemoration of Christ’s mandate to his followers. Tonight’s service is both an awkward and deeply moving part of Holy Week, in which the congregation washes one another’s feet in a reminder of our call to humility and service, and a direct reflection of Christ’s only commandment, delivered on his last night on earth: Love one another.

On our way to an appointment yesterday, my husband and I encountered a terrible accident in our tiny village. We had never seen a car crushed so badly, and we guessed by the lack of urgency of the responders that the person inside was no longer within reach of help. There was only one car, and the condition of the car made it clear that there was great speed involved. We heard it was some kind of medical event, but I’m not sure that makes sense. In any case, it was a somber reminder of the unpredictability of life. Love one another.

In a world of misery, hunger, war, anger, and pure evil, we do not have to be Christians to understand that there is only one solution for it all. Judging by the evidence we see all around us, and even in our own hearts, it is the most difficult thing in the world, but it is the only thing that can meet the indignity, animosity, cruelty, and horrors we see and read about. We aren’t told to love some people. We aren’t told to love the nice people. We aren’t told to love the people like us. We aren’t, for that matter, told to love only humans. We are told to love one another. Period.

And really, in a world filled with books on theology, that’s all we need to know. The challenge is in the doing.

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“All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.” ~Julian of Norwich

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Also: there will always be dog photos.

And now for your gratuitous dog photos:

Practice makes perfect. They are obeying the “Show me your manners” command for the arrival of company.

It’s very clear from his expression that Eli knows he is in possession of Dad territory.