“One of you who is eating with me now will betray me. Tonight all of you will desert me.” Matthew 26:23, 36 NLT adapted.
I apologize for the unedited-typed-on-my-phone-while-multitasking mediation last Friday. It sure feels good to say those words.
It’s almost impossible to wash feet without letting down your guard and facing your own limitations, hurts, and shame.
Years ago Rod and I were part of a church that held a Love Feast on Maundy Thursday. We would gather around tables laden with homemade soup, bread, apple butter, pickles, and chow chow. Conversations were lively until we quieted down to remember why we were there on that evening.
The pastor told the story of older Love Feasts when the whole church would gather at a central barn for a meal. At some point in the meal, they would be reminded of Paul’s admonition to make things right between each other before sharing communion. People would quietly get up, and head outside to talk to each other about wrongs done and/or received, and ask. We were invited to do so as well.
I was once one of those people. The details are confidential all these years later. Suffice it to say that in doing a right thing, I’d hurt another person. We could have ignored each other, letting bygones be unaddressed. Instead, we approached each other. Expressed our Christian love for each other, shared our sides of the story, and cleared the air. We came to the conclusion that we were still a part of the community, that we didn’t have to agree completely, but rather agree to move forward with clean slates. The tension, the made-up thoughts, the blame and shame, the weight of making hard decisions rolled off our shoulders.
We returned to our tables, washed feet as old hymns spontaneously sounded around the room. We then ate the bread, drank the wine having been reminded of God’s forgiveness, grace, hope, love, and joy.
I reflect on that memory often, recalling the shift from anxiety and apprehension to a peace beyond understanding. I wonder what might happen if that was our regular practice.
What a wonderful world it would be. ~ Anne
Wayfinding 