Practicing Resurrection: Living out the New Commandment of Maundy Thursday

Each year on Maundy Thursday, the day before Good Friday in Holy Week, we pause to remember the "New Commandment" given to us at the Lord's Supper. "...the English word Maundy in that name for the day is derived through Middle English, and Old French mandé, from the Latin mandatum, the first word of the phrase "Mandatum novum do vobis ut diligatis invicem sicut dilexi vos" ("A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you"), the statement by Jesus in the Gospel of John (13:34) by which Jesus explained to the Apostles the significance of his action of washing their feet."(Wikipedia)

We participate in a foot-washing ceremony at home.

Husband following Christ's example in an act of humble service:

"If I then your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have given you an example, that you should do just as I have done to you...If you know these things, blessed are you if you do them" (John 13:14-17)

By practicing this rite in the domestic church, we allow the children a chance to participate as children.

Sticking dirty feet into the air,

 

 getting up close to watch it done

We are knitted together in new commandment. Father loving and serving children.

Children basking in the glow of Daddy's love and understanding more of the Father's love.




We partake of the Agape Meal, a simple dish with Bread and Wine, remembering on this night Christ gives us a new way:

As Christians we no longer eat the Passover Lamb on this night but now feed on His Body and His Blood. As Paul wrote, "Christ our Passover, was sacrificed for us. Therefore let us keep the feast" (I Cor. 5:7). St. Athanasius in his Easter tetter of 332 A.D. writes,

"Now the pictures and shadows and types have all been fulfilled and accomplished. So we, dear brothers and sisters, should no longer consider the Feast a figurative one. We do not go up to the earthly city of Jerusalem to sacrifice the Passover. That ancient Jewish practice is no longer suitable. If we followed their practice, we would be celebrating the Easter season inappropriately...Since our Savior was making the change from the type of shadow to the spiritual reality, He gave them the New Covenant promise. That is, He promised them that they would not eat the flesh of a lamb anymore, but His own: 'Take, eat and drink; this is My body and and My blood' (Matthew 26:26-28)." (The Resurrection Letters of St. Athanasius)

And so now that we have entered the church season of Easter we seek to live out this "new commandment" in the power of this "new covenant" by all that was accomplished on the cross and by the resurrection of our Lord.

What are the disciplines of this Easter Season of fifty days? Though there are many ways to answer this question, Maundy Thursday answers

A Family Loving and Serving. Feasting and Celebrating.
Not in mere picture, shadow, or memory but a new spiritual reality.

"From that day [Easter], until Pentecost we keep holy day through seven weeks, one after the other. As we set our minds properly on all that this season means, we will be prepared for the eternal realities behind them." (The Resurrection Letters of St. Athanasius)

May we all come to know these eternal realities more this Easter Season!
Amy

"one of the saddest stories of the last generation, period."

From Joseph Bottum at First Things:
"Meanwhile, Episcopalians—sometimes unkindly called the Gene Robinson branch of U.S. Anglicanism—dropped 3 percent in 2008. That doesn’t sound like much, admits Warren Cole Smith at the website of
World magazine, but apparently it is the largest membership drop any major denomination has experienced in a single year. For those keeping a running total, the Episcopal Church now has slightly fewer than 2 million members in 7,000 parishes. That’s down from about 3.5 million in 1965—a bit more than a 40 percent decline. Following Martin Marty’s admonition above, though, we are not “rejoicing in the missteps or misfortunes of others,” just marking them out.

Smith, however, is somewhat . . . well, gleeful is not the word. Perhaps “resigned but not grieving” does the trick. “Don’t grieve the demise of the Episcopal Church,” he says. “God has preserved a remnant. And the coming together of the various ‘continuing Anglican’ churches under the [Anglican Church in North America] organizational structure is one of the major religious developments of this year, a development that will likely resonate for many years to come.”

While that may be true, we do, nonetheless, grieve. The great decline of a once-vibrant Protestant mainline church is one of the saddest stories of the last generation, period."

Living the day God gives you

I am a planner and a list-maker, working best with a routine so I know what to anticipate next. I learned it from my mother as she wrote and filled notebook after notebook with menu plans, budgets, and schedules. Those days that go according to plan, I feel triumphant, fall into bed tired but proud.


Those days are rare.


In our active home, there are always the things I didn't plan.
I didn't know I'd wake up at 3am, a cough that wouldn't let me sleep but even more a burden to write and so I would begin my day tired.
I didn't know baby would wake sick too and want to spend the day in my arms, a faithful and sweet companion but it makes mopping the kitchen floor tricky.
I didn't know a friend would have her 6th baby and now I would need to finish getting that gift together and a meal made.
I didn't know that my daughter would find the "-all" word family so difficult to master.
I didn't know about that the leaky basement and loads of wet towels to wash on top of it all.


It is easy for me to feel these are interruptions to my plan. The excuse then for a short fuse, feelings of incompetence, and the wish to go back to bed until I can wake up to one of those perfect days I have planned.


But instead I've been realizing these are not the interruptions to my life, but the very stuff of life. Writing my heart, comforting the sick, welcoming babies, teaching the difficult, managing an old yet beloved home ...this is the world God has given me. And it is all those moments that give the opportunity for love that I forgot in my plan. That is the difference between my plan and God's direction as it says in the Proverbs, "In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps." He wants the day to be about giving and loving; I had the silly idea it was about perfection.

I am seeking a free heart this Lent:
not attached to so much stuff, so we've been busy de-cluttering;
not attached to easy comfort, so we've fasted from alcohol, meat and sweets.
And now I've realized not attached to my own agenda, letting God determine the steps.



Frances De Sales writes,

"A heart that is free
Is the close companion 
of a peaceful soul.

A free heart is one 
that is not attached to its own way 
of doing things,
That does not become impatient
When things don’t go its way.

A free heart will surely enjoy
Spiritual consolations,
But is not dependent on them,
And will, to the best of its ability,
Accept troubles in their stead.

A free heart is not so tied
to a schedule or a way of praying
that any change is upsetting
and a source of anxiety.
A free heart is not attached
to what is beyond its control.

A free heart prays to God
that his name be hallowed,
that his kingdom come, 
that his will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.

For if the name of God is hallowed,
if his kingdom is in us,
if his will is being done,
a free spirit need not concern itself
With anything else."

Jesus does not promise a smooth life according to our own agendas, but does promise that we may learn from Him and find in His gentleness and lowliness, a burden light.

"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30.

St. Patrick's Breastplate

My Lenten practices have done much to reveal my need for God's daily grace in my life. I cannot do these disciplines on my own and they only serve to show the deeper sins within. And so this week, I pray the words penned by St. Patrick over 1500 years ago:

"I arise today

    Through God's strength to pilot me:

    God's might to uphold me,

    God's wisdom to guide me,

    God's eye to look before me,

    God's ear to hear me,

    God's word to speak to me,

    God's hand to guard me,

    God's way to lie before me,

    God's shield to protect me,

    God's host to save me...

Christ be with me, Christ within me,

         Christ behind me, Christ before me,

      Christ beside me, Christ to win me,

         Christ to comfort and restore me,

      Christ beneath me, Christ above me,

         Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,

      Christ in hearts of all that love me,

         Christ in mouth of friend and stranger."

Read the whole thing and more about St. Patrick's life here.

Listen to this version:

Why we fast.

As I seek to learn more about Lenten traditions, I’ve come across quite a few people who disparage the giving up of food for Lent. It’s not enough, they proclaim. Chocolate? Coffee?  Dessert? A Meal?

Paltry. Do something big for God.

To an extent they’re right. These small sacrifices are, indeed, small. They pale in comparison to Christ’s glorious suffering on our behalf.

But the bemoaners of the ascetic fast make me wonder if they’ve ever really tried it.

Yes, giving up something like dessert when you don’t really have issues with dessert probably is paltry. I agree wholeheartedly with the advice Matt Kennedy gives on what to do for Lent, “In other words, your Lenten discipline should not be arbitrary. If you have a problem with lust, don’t give up chocolate. Give up whatever it is that leads you into lustful behavior. And don’t just give it up for Lent, use Lent to give it up forever. Let the Lord know that you are committed to turning from the sin he has shown you and then ask him to help you in your task though the power of his Holy Spirit.”

But personally, every Lent when I have chosen something related to eating and drinking for the Fast, it has hit me right where it hurts.  When I remove one of those little comforts, those easy over-the-counter panaceas, it doesn’t take long for my sin to flare. While I wouldn’t usually say I have a problem with anger, impatience, or bitterness, take away my morning coffee, (or X, Y or Z) and I do.

This leads me to justify my misbehavior:

These sins aren’t real, I’m the victim of my circumstances.

At other times, I begin the mental gymnastic:

Coffee, chocolate, dessert, whatever it may be…, these are gifts from God, He knows I’m weak that’s why He created these things, why am I taking it  upon myself to question this?!

But in the silence of Lent, I hear His Voice:

Pray. Be still. Take up your Cross. Follow Me.

I am led to remember His Life as recorded in the Gospels:

His forty days of prayer and fasting. His times alone for prayer.  And I know I am called to follow at all costs.

The conviction of Scripture begins to speak to my quick and shrill tongue:

“You, Amy, are one of the brood of vipers! How can you speak good, when you are evil? For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.”  (Matthew 12:34).

And I am humbled when I usually would have reached for… another cup of coffee, leftovers from the fridge, my hidden stash of chocolate.

The arguments stop. I give in. I’m weak. I’m a sinner. I need His Grace. I learn again that I can’t do Lent in my own strength. It seems that if I want to do the Big Things, I need to get a hold of the small things first. And the tradition has seen that it is through our stomachs, we can quickly get to our hearts.

I wrote at the beginning of Lent of my longing to be covered in the whiteness of an undivided heart (Psalm 86:11) just as the snow had blanketed our little street and our little home with a unity and cleanness.

 

But one week into Lent and I already know, that in that initial request, I didn’t see my real need. What I wanted then, was a quick cure for sin, instant sanctification.

One week into Lent, giving up those easy comforts, attempting more time in silence and prayer, and the sin bleeds dark from beneath that white covering. 

 

And so, I disagree when I hear on Ash Wednesday a local preacher (not from my home church), “Fasting makes me cranky, so I don’t do it.” There is a reason the Church has fasted from food during Lent—that crankiness might be the very reason.

We are human, dependent and finite. In Lent we don’t just hear the words “You are dust and to dust you will return,” we enter into practices which make that truth inescapable.  And we are then faced with a choice, in our dependency and finitude will we feed on the Bread of Life and Drink of the Everlasting Water or will we placate our sins by running off to do the Big Things? “Fasting reminds us that we are sustained “by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God” (Matthew 4:4). Food does not sustain us. God sustains us…Therefore, in experiences of fasting we are not so much abstaining from food as we are feasting on the word of God. Fasting is feasting.” (Foster p. 55)

I want to do BIG THINGS for God. But, so far, He’s only asked me to take lessons in the School of Nazareth, the world of the small. And He is teaching me that I need to rethink what it means to serve Him as John Milton writes in the poem where he questions how will He do God’s work now that he is blind and receives the answer,

“God doth not need    

Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best  

Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His State 

Is Kingly: thousands at his bidding speed    

And post o're Land and Ocean without rest:    

They also serve who only stand and wait.”

For centuries, Lent has been a season of fasting and penitence. We join with countless others [Moses, David, Elijah, Esther, Daniel, Anna, Paul, Jesus, Martin Luther, John Calvin, John Knox, John Wesley, Jonathan Edwards….] who’ve wanted to renew their repentance and faith “by self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and self-denial; and by reading and meditating on God's holy Word” (The Book of Common Prayer).  How this quite looks will be different for each of us, but the tradition is clear.

May we bear His mild yoke, trusting in His Kingly State, allowing His work to be done.