For the first time in many years, I conducted both Maundy
Thursday and Good Friday worship services. The last time I remember
doing both, I was pastor of the Rougemont Charge, and each service took place
at a different church on the charge. New Bethel’s Maundy Thursday service always
began in the fellowship hall with a dinner of baked chicken, green beans, and a roll.
After Union Grove became a single station charge, they
wanted to do a Seder meal for Maundy Thursday – after all, the pastor’s husband
is Jewish! I did this with a great deal of trepidation, especially if there
were any field education students around. I understand (better than most
probably) the reasons for not doing a “Christian Seder,” but the service always
turned out really well and seemed a great learning experience for tying Passover
to the Last Supper. I’ve attended many Passover Seders (even read one of the Hebrew
blessings at one of them), and I tried to do the Maundy Thursday dinners at
Union Grove respectfully.
The first year I was at Massey's Chapel, I asked Rev. Jim Rawlings (who affiliates with Massey's) to preach. Right after he started his sermon, one of the congregation passed out, fell over, and turned an alarming shade of gray. We called an ambulance, I said a prayer, and Jim gave the most comforting and theologically right-on talk while we waited for the ambulance (which took 20 minutes!). The member was fine; just dehydrated.
This year for Maundy Thursday, I read each of the accounts
of the Last Supper told in Matthew, Mark, and Luke; Jesus’ “I am the bread of
life” scripture from John 6; and Paul’s words about the Lord’s supper from 1
Corinthians. I talked a bit about each (spending rather more time with Paul),
and then we celebrated Communion. Cheryl Brown led us in singing several hymns without
accompaniment. It was a nice service.
Good Friday
Aldersgate wanted a “stations of the cross” walk around the
building and grounds for Good Friday, which I set up whole-heartedly the first
year I was there, somewhat reluctantly the second year, and never again after
that. Only two or three people showed up either year. When the church moved out
of the building, I think I remember giving the stations-of-the-cross plaques to some UM church who
really wanted them.
The year we moved back inside Massey's Chapel after Covid, against my better judgment I allowed a member to present a Good Friday play. I knew his performances tend to offend ordained United Methodists with their Baptist atonement slant, but he had been asking me for several years to let him do a play. So I read the play and took the evening off. There were many visitors that evening from his active 55+ community, and because I wasn't there to enforce the "no closed doors" rule, someone closed the doors, and the service turned into a Covid super-spreader just in time for Easter.
All of the Good Friday worship services I have conducted
have been services of Tenebrae. This year, I used readings from John’s Gospel. Mostly
lay people read the scripture, and they did a nice job. Our new
pianist, Suzanne, played the seven Lenten hymns (two verses of each) soulfully and well. It was a moving service.
I do things a bit differently for the Tenebrae service than I remember my field education church and home church doing them. After the last scripture reading, I do not suddenly whack something like a cymbal (or a metal garbage can lid!) because it always startled the daylights out of me. That’s not the mood I’m going for. I do ask people to leave without speaking, but I do not strip the front of the church. At the end of the service, both those churches had a procession of people carrying items like the pulpit bible, cross, and candlesticks out the door and into the fellowship hall. Now I wonder: Who put them all back?
One
year, I covered everything in a black sheet, then worried one of the wicks might
still have a spark left in it, would catch the sheet on fire, and burn down the
church. So I turned my car around and drove back to the church and removed the black
sheet to discover no burn holes; instead, a clumped mess of melted purple wax.
This year, I used new beautiful purple votive candles
ordered from Amazon that melted too fast, overran their glass cups, and made another seasonal mess. I wonder why I
struggle so with candle wax?
After I carried the wax-covered candle racks to my office, I returned to the sanctuary and set up for Easter. I felt still grieved from the Good Friday service but also an emerging sense of joy, knowing Easter was coming. Thank you, God, for the honor of this calling.
