Out of Hatred Comes Triumph

I will be honest. I hadn't planned on attending this year's Maundy Thursday service at church. Part of it being that, from my place of work, the church I attend is an hour and a half away. The second part of it being that, if I attended the Maundy Thursday service that would be three days in a row I had to leave work early and I just didn't think it was fair to do that to my coworkers or my measly enough bank account.

Until I opened my email on Tuesday night and found an email from my priest.

"I was wondering if you would be willing to strip the altar bare as part of the liturgy."

I replied "Yes" a lot faster than necessary. After responding I sat staring at my the email thinking, Wait, that means I actually have to go.

So I went into work and let my supervisor know that I was actually going to be leaving early on Thursday too because I would be stripping the altar bare during the Maundy Thursday service. She was great and understanding.

So I made my way up to Bangor for the service, managing to make it at the time Father Justin asked me to arrive so that the stripping of the altar could be explained, even if it did take me 20 minutes to make it through my town because of rush hour traffic instead of the usual 10.

The service began. We went through the liturgy. The Confession Absolution. The Collect. The Lessons, the Sermon, the Foot-Washing. The Prayers of the People. The Eucharist.

Then we stripped the altar. Psalm 22 was read as we worked.

First the holy items. Then the candles. The cloths. We took holy water and washed the bare altar and then I laid the crown of thorns in the enter of the altar and returned to me seat.

What does all this mean? I wondered as we contemplated the emptiness, the starkness of it all before proceeding out. The image of the crown of thorns, alone in the faded light upon the altar stayed with me all the way home. What does this mean? What can I find in the crown of thorns? What can I find in my participating in the stripping of the altar? Lord, what am I meant to learn from this? Am I so clouded with my own thoughts and judgments that I can't hear you? Are you silent? What am I supposed to do with the crown of thorns upon the empty altar?

Two lines from the Prayers of the People came to me:

"On this night, he reminded his disciples that if the world hated them it hated him first" and "On this night, he accepted the cup of death and looked forward to the new wine of the kingdom."

"Out of Hatred Comes Triumph."

Maundy Thursday is not just the night Christ instituted the Eucharist and showed us how to be humble leaders with a servant's heart.

Maundy Thursday is the night Jesus was betrayed. It was the night he was arrested by people who despised him. Maundy Thursday, for all intents and purposes, is the Beginning of the End. The End which is actually just the Beginning; because out of hatred comes triumph. Without Maundy Thursday there would be no Good Friday and without Good Friday there would be no Holy Saturday and the Harrowing of Hell, and without the Harrowing of Hell there would be no Resurrection. No Easter. No Triumph.

And I don't want to think about it because who wants to think and dwell on the agony of Christ? But the crown of thorns haunts my mind and I know I must confront the agony because it was my sin that put Christ upon the cross in the first place. It was for me, a woman of the 21st century, that Christ died for back in the first century. Christ did not just take off his outer robe and put a towel around his waist to wash the feet of his twelve disciples. He took off his outer robe and put on a towel and washed my feet too.

He took off his splendor, came down to earth in the body of a man, and died on a cross.

Even as the cries of "Crucify him!" from our ancestors echoes throughout time and space, so too does Christ's love for all mankind.

Because out of hatred comes triumph.

**All pictures were taken by Scott DeLong. Imago Dei Anglican Church.