Maundy Thursday

‘Maundy’ is an Anglicisation of the Latin word ‘mandatum’, meaning ‘commandment’, so the name Maundy Thursday refers to the ‘new commandment’ Jesus gives his disciples - to love one another.

For me it was a rather eventful day with little rest. Christine led the communion service in the morning, and she washed our hands in a bowl and then dried them with a cloth in remembrance of Jesus washing the feet of the disciples at the last supper.

I had an early lunch (all-day veggie breakfast) at The Exchange before going home in time for the electrician to arrive at half past twelve. He fitted a replacement bathroom extractor fan and new LED downlighter units in the bathroom and kitchen. All went well, and I’ve asked for a quote to do a couple more jobs - so pleased to have found such a good local company.

Back over to St Luke’s at 5.30pm for the Maundy Thursday Agapé Supper, where we ate three courses of simple food together, interspersed with hymns, readings and prayers relating to the last supper. Agapé is a word from the Ancient Greek language, meaning “the highest form of love, charity" and "the love of God for human beings and of human beings for God". When we had finished eating, we moved into the main church for a final communion until Easter, then the altar was stripped bare while verses from Lamentations were read out.

‘How lonely sits the city that once was full of people!
How like a widow she has become,
she that was great among the nations!
She weeps bitterly in the night, with tears on her cheeks;
among all her lovers she has no one to comfort her.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, return to the Lord your God.

The roads to Zion mourn, for no one comes to the festivals;
all her gates are desolate, her priests groan;
her young girls grieve, and her lot is bitter.
Her children have gone away, captives before the foe.
Is it nothing to you, all you who pass by?
Look and see if there is any sorrow like my sorrow.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, return to the Lord your God.

From on high he sent fire; it went deep into my bones;
he spread a net for my feet; he turned me back;
he has left me stunned, faint all day long.
For these things I weep; my eyes flow with tears;
for a comforter is far from me, one to revive my courage;
my children are desolate, for the enemy has prevailed.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, return to the Lord your God.

All who pass along the way clap their hands at you;
they hiss and wag their heads at daughter Jerusalem;
‘Is this the city that was called the perfection of beauty,
the joy of all the earth?’
The thought of my affliction and homelessness is wormwood and gall.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, return to the Lord your God.

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul,
‘therefore I will hope in him.’
The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul that seeks him.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, return to the Lord your God.

It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.
It is good for one to bear the yoke in youth,
to sit alone in silence when the Lord has imposed it,
to put one’s mouth to the dust (there may yet be hope),
to give one’s cheek to the smiter, and be filled with insults.
For the Lord will not reject for ever.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, return to the Lord your God’.

Candles and lights were extinguished. We left the church in darkness and silence.