Maundy Thursday

Being a part of a community requires allowing others to care for us, even the parts we hope to keep hidden.

We need to find a way to wash each other’s feet, even when waging war feels better.

If our faith cannot help us escape tribulations, then what should we do when we face them?

How might the church’s history have been different if foot washing had caught on more widely?

The lamb’s blood isn’t insurance against the wrath of God. It is a proclamation of fealty.

Why Howard Thurman dedicated his autobiography to a stranger

Jesus seems to encourage a kind of musical chairs, no one staying put for very long.

Would Peter resist having his feet washed by another disciple?

Alvaro Enciso plants crosses where migrants have died, to keep them from disappearing into oblivion.

People sometimes regress to childlike behavior in stressful situations.

Peter is hardly the first person to challenge the status quo because of something God told him in a dream.

How can these values be lived out in our traditions and in our assemblies?

In a pandemic, the practices associated with Maundy Thursday feel nearly transgressive.

Paul offers a meantime ethic, a witness of the death Jesus still endures until death disappears in his return.

As he washes Peter’s feet, Jesus is thinking about Judas.

A plague is being visited on all of us, but not evenly.

Anyone who has occupied spaces where death looms knows that the experience of time is anything but certain.