Holy Thursday: Fully Immersed

 

I am "preaching" Holy Thursday (Carthusian style — a long ago abbot of that most silent of orders told his confreres that they preach with their hands, by writing, not with their voices). Or maybe I should just say I am preaching today. Period.

Today begins the Triduum, a single liturgy unfolding over some 5o hours. We will come and go, but there will be only one collect — tonight — and one closing prayer — at the end of the Vigil. Holy Thursday is sometimes celebrated as the institution of the Sacrament of Holy Orders, sometimes as the institution of the Eucharist. But either of thsoe two characterizations seems to do justice to the depths of the mysteries at play in this liturgy. It's not an anniversary, it is a prophetic call to the baptized.

Last summer, when Give Us This Day's editor invited me to write the reflection for today, I will admit to being slightly intimidated. I have written many pieces for them over the years (50? I haven't really kept count), including for Christmas and other major feasts, but this day, these days, felt far more freighted. 

I sat down to write this with the powerful readings that direct our attention both inward — take this and drink — and outward — wash the feet of others, but my mind kept drifting to the unspoken, to what lies above and beside and below. Wade in with me to all that surrounds us, and that invites us to become what we receive, that calls us to be the Word made flesh. In the world today, where cruelty seems to be the watchword and mercy and justice are given short shrift, it seems all the more important to gather our strength and go forth as Christ commanded.

"After the starkness of Lent, with its stripped altars and veiled statues, it’s always a shock when I walk into the church on Holy Thursday. The altar is draped in crimson satin, the chapel where the Eucharist will repose is overflowing with flowers and candles. Tendrils of incense wind toward the ceiling, a gathering cloud of prayer above the nave...

Listen! Hear the Word that commands me to wash my neighbors’ feet, that whispers to me, “take up your cross,” that speaks my name and sends me out to make manifest the Good News. Verbum caro, panem verum, Verbo carnem éfficit. Become flesh in me."

The full reflection can be found here, along with a beautiful icon by Olga Bakhtina.