It all began with Maundy Thursday.
The Great Three Days (a.k.a. “The Passion of Jesus Christ”) begins with the Last Supper. We call it Maundy Thursday because this is when Jesus gave the New Commandment (maundatum = mandate or commandment).
It all began for me on Maundy Thursday as well. I was born on this day in the church year in 1979. Every year my parents retell the significant parts of the story -- Dubuque, Iowa...April 12...7:23 p.m...the infamous meatball sandwich that dad ate shortly before my arrival...the umbilical cord that was wrapped around my neck...etc etc etc.
Maundy Thursday is also the day that I learned of the death of my first grandparent. I was on choir tour in the spring of 2000, when I got a phone call that Grandma Mary had passed away. The choir sang “Precious Lord, Take My Hand” that night at worship in memory of my grandma.
This year, Maundy Thursday signified another beginning in my life -- the first time my two oldest children received the sacrament of Holy Communion. Anna and Isaac were very excited to do such a “grown up” thing. I was able to experience anew the gift of this holy meal (and this Holy Thursday) through the eager eyes of my children.
It’s interesting how some days become infused with additional meaning as we get older. Tonight, as I watch old family videos with a sleepless Isaac, I’m reminded of the Harry Chapin song that says:
All my life’s a circle, sunrise and sundown.
The moon rolls through the nighttime ‘til the daybreak comes around.
All my life’s a circle, but I can’t tell you why.
The seasons spinning ‘round again, the years keep rolling by.