Maundy Thursday

Maundy Thursday is such a strange mixture of frenzy and stillness. The frenzy of stripping the altar – the stillness of the watch in Gethsemene afterwards.

Our altar of repose looked very beautiful this year. White tulips just on the cusp of their sadness, a spray of white and a single lilly head next to Himself. Candles everywhere, of course, the only way of cheering up the hall here.

It was good to have Bishop David here for the service. Once he and I had sorted out at the beginning how we were going to wash the feet, we were fine. ("You wash, I’ll dry").

The church is denuded. It is always a shock to come into it like that on Good Friday, even for those who were there tonight. The tabernacle is empty. The font is empty too and has the font lid slammed down on it – the only time it is used. There can be no sacraments now. Jesus has been taken away for trial. His Passion has begun. And all his friends departed and went away.

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