Maundy

April 9, 2020

On that night so long ago Jesus gave us a new mandate: to love one another. This year, as we practice social distancing and staying at home, this mandate feels more important than ever. Love one another.

In all the oddness of gathering at our own tables instead of coming to the Lord’s Table, and sharing a Love Feast instead of Holy Communion, we intuitively got it. Love will sustain us through this pandemic.

There were so many powerful moments at this year’s online gathering.

The wind came up as we started – a fluke windstorm that blew the tin roof off my neighbors’ barn and sent us all scrambling to batten down the hatches. It set the stage for the evening, reminding me of how little control we have. We can control our own actions and responses, but we can’t control the wind or the waves. We can reach out in love to our neighbors, but we can’t control their actions and responses.

As we prepared for the Love Feast we named aloud those whom we wished were at the table with us this night – the ones we love most. Parents and grandparents who may or may not be alive. Congregation and community members who were not able to join us. Children – grown children – who are scattered across the country. Family. And in that moment the grief was palpable. Oh, how we miss those we love.

This is the night of love.

We shared the ways we’ve seen love at work. The pink super moon. New growth shooting up through the soil. Visibly less air pollution. Bird songs. Connecting with our school kids. Getting help from our neighbors. Hearing from old friends. Grieving with those who have lost loved ones to COVID-19. Listening to scripture.

Jesus washed Judas’ feet? Really? What are we supposed to do with that?

Love is patient. Love is kind.

Love works in our lives in so many different ways.

Over pancakes and crackers and clementines we shared memories of other meals – and we laughed until the tears ran down our faces. Dad’s Saturday morning breakfasts. Mom’s predictable Jiffy corn muffins. Spaghetti and meatballs without hands (or utensils!). Totally unpredictable left over casseroles on Friday night. Meals made in love. Meals shared with those we love. Love feasts.

On the night Jesus was betrayed we laughed. And it was wonderfully healing.