Maundy Thursday

This ought to be rather brief as I did virtually nothing on Maundy Thursday other than attend the evening liturgy. The previous night I stayed up with Ben, as it was his last evening the country (before his departure early this morning) before the Paschal Triduum, and thus the last evening for us to share a bottle of wine and have a chat. It ended up being a very late night, so my plan to get to all the various churches on the Mount of Olives- the Lutheran Augusta Victoria, the Russian Orthodox Churches of the Ascension and of St. Mary Magdalene, the Chapel (mosque) of the Ascension, Pater Noster, and the Tomb of Mary completely went up in smoke. Oh well, I ought to be able to do a good deal of that tomorrow (Monday), anyway. The real trouble was that I didn't make it to any of the Oriental Orthodox (Ethiopian, Armenian, Syraic) foot washings that I'd hoped to observe and participate in. I suppose that gives me a good excuse to return for a second pilgrimage (as if I'd needed another one).

In any event, I overslept late into the day, so I really just milled about until the Maundy Thursday service began at St. George's Cathedral.

For a bit of background: Maundy Thursday commemorates the Last Supper of our Lord with his disciples, and in particular the washing of the feet and the institution of Holy Communion. Maundy is a corruption of that Latin word 'mandatum,' from whence we get our English 'mandate.' This refers specifically to the 'new commandment' that ties together Christ's deeply symbolic and ritual actions of the washing of the feet and the breaking of the bread: "A new commandment I give you, that you love one another; just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another" (John 13:34).

The washing of the feet, pointing back to our baptisms, prepares us to go forth to confront the absolute horror of Good Friday, the deep anxiety of Holy Saturday, and the joyous triumph of Easter Sunday; the sacrament of the Lord's Supper which follows is to sustain us in this period in which we fast and abstain from Holy Communion throughout the next nights. Thus the Maundy Thursday liturgy begins the Easter Triduum buildings through the next days to the climax of the Feast of the Resurrection, with its final denouement in the Sunday evening Vespers.

At St. George's, unlike in the Oriental services I'd hoped to attend, the foot washing is ceremonial and representative; not all participate. Rather, in view of the congregation, the bishop, Bishop Suheil, got down on his knees and washed the feet of the priests, deacons, and acolytes. I thought that was a bit of a shame, but I suppose this proper English service couldn't have laity wallowing around on the foot with sloshing water. "That just wouldn't be cricket."

Most moving, though, was the finale of the service. Stephen, the Dean of St. George's College, read in a loud voice the entirety of Psalm 22, "My God, my God! Why hast thou forsaken me?" while the rest of the clergy and church workers engaged in the Stripping of the Altars.

If you haven't witnessed a full Stripping of the Altars, find a good church some Maundy Thursday and go.

In the stripping of the altars, all removable pieces of decoration in the church are removed. The vestments are removed from the priests who are left in black cassoks; the icons are removed from the walls; the candlesticks are shut away; the liturgical banners and altar-coverings are torn off; and the crucifixes, already covered in purple sheets for Lent, are taken down entirely.

The church, you see, goes from the picture of heaven, where the Divine Liturgy ushers us into the presence of God through Word and Sacrament each and every Sunday, into a tomb. The tomb of Good Friday and Holy Saturday. The beauty and colors and precious metals are replaced by stark, gray, stone walls.

From here we processed out in silence and began a walk from the cathedral down into the Kidron Valley, a dark, silent olive grove near Gethsemane. Here we read the first half of St. Mark's passion narrative, from Jesus' time of anguish in the garden through Peter's triple denial. Then we dispersed; some stayed in the grove in silence, others left, and a few attempted to get into the nearby Basilica of the Agony (or 'Church of All Nations').

It was with this disturbing image of things to come that we were left to be haunted by that night, with the anticipation of a 6am procession through the Old City along the Via Dolorosa...