Growing up I don’t know if I ever heard the term Maundy Thursday. I was taught what the scriptures tell us what happened leading up the cross. I’m sure I even went to a service on Thursday but didn’t know it had a specific name. When I was in high school we attended a Baptist church. They give a lot more focus to Good Friday. I know for sure I went to Good Friday services and knew what to call it. Giving the Thursday before Good Friday a name and definition is a relatively new thing for me.
The service last night was painfully beautiful. Our ministers do a wonderful job of getting you in a very somber mood to spend the next day thinking about the cross. The service was broken up into 5 sections: Cleansing, Denial, Communion, Betrayal and Cross.
Lacrimosa from Mozart’s Requiem was performed after the Denial reading and message. Mark 14: 66-72
Translation: O how tearful that day, on which the guilty shall rise from the embers to be judged. Spare them then, O God. Merciful Lord Jesus, grant them rest. Amen.
Minister Kim Gaston McGough gave a beautiful message during the Cross section, John 19: 16-27, the crucifixion story. Kim’s message hit home.
vs. 26, When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, “Dear woman, here is your son,” (27) and to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.
Just a few months ago we were celebrating the tiny baby Jesus. Harry was about to turn 1 so I was acutely was aware of the fragility of new life and the awe it brings. Now we are thrust into Holy Week and grieving his death. Part of Kim’s message focused on Jesus’ mother and the anguish she must have suffered. To watch her first born die a death reserved for despised criminals, I can hardly imagine. She raised him and sent him out into the world and now in his last moments he was making arrangements for her future well being. This exchange between mother and son is heart breaking to me. Maybe because of my own two boys I somehow can relate to the fierce love Mary must have had for her boy.
Could I ever be forced to give up one of my precious boys for the greater good? Never. But that is what God did for the entire human race. From the beginning of time until the end…we are free. This was the ultimate sacrifice.
Kecia Guernsey
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