Before I joined the United Methodist Church, about 2 1/2 years ago, I'd never heard of Maundy Thursday. I thought it was one of those made up words that Methodists use, like "Narthex." When I was brought up in the Catholic Church, it was in a parish and in an era that considered church an "obligation" instead of a celebration, and was largely in Latin, so I never got it. The Catholics also had a habit of sticking the word "Holy" in front of any day that we were required to go to church in addition to Sunday. So I think that Maundy Thursday was "Holy Thursday" to us, and all I knew was it meant another day in church and I hated that.

Tonight I went to church, mostly because I sing in the choir, and partly because I have begun to have questions that are likely answered in the first few years of Sunday School. Either they never explained much to me, or I wasn't paying attention. It was likely the latter. Well, I am paying attention now. And with what I felt tonight in church, I didn't feel I could write a humor post, or one dealing with the petty problems I'm having over not being allowed to gorge myself.

Maundy Thursday is a remembrance of one of the most important events for Christians. Everyone remembers Christmas, the birth, Santa and presents. Everyone knows Easter, the resurrection and chocolate bunnies. Most people know about Good Friday, the crucifixion, for some a day off work. But Maundy Thursday is important too. It was the Last Supper. It was the Garden of Gethsemane. It was Jesus coming to terms with the idea that he was going to die a human and painful death, and that it was his fate to do so.

Tonight I thought about many things as I listened to the sermon and Scripture readings. I thought about how human Jesus seemed, as He prayed to His Father...asking if at all possible to be spared this fate. How many times I have tossed up a prayer to be spared from petty crap. I try not to do it, but I know I have. "Please Lord, help me stay away from the cookies," "Please let it snow so that I don't have to go to work today." How rude. Just who the heck do I think I am?

I thought about the disciples. How human they were. Peter. Betrayed Jesus not once, but three times (and he had even been tipped off!). Why? Because he was scared. He knew trouble was coming, and he saved his skin. Judas. Sold out for gold. Of course, that was part of their destiny too, but still.

What would I have done? If I was there, and it all started crashing. The party busted and the cops fly in. They grab me and say, "Hey, you're one of these guys too!" Do I say "HELL YES! TAKE ME TOO!" I am ashamed to say that I think I might have done what Peter did, even if it wasn't destiny to do so.

I thought about that girl from Columbine, Cassie Bernall, who was asked if she was a Christian and said yes. She was shot. What would I have said? God, I hope I would have said yes. But I wonder if I would have taken a second to try and figure out what the shooter wanted me to say, what his motive was for asking. Would I have denied my Christianity in the face of a gun if I thought it might save my life?

Well, anyway, I got to thinking tonight, that this is an important weekend for many people. I want to take some time and focus on things other than me. It just seems like the right thing to do.

Have a peaceful Easter. And I'll update Sunday evening or Monday morning.

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