For two decades, every Holy Thursday I heard the same voice singing the same song.
Holy Week | Maundy Thursday (Year B)
Exodus 12:1-4, (5-10), 11-14; Psalm 116:1-2, 12-19; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; John 13:1-17, 31b-35
Matt grew up in the Episcopal Church. One Sunday he appeared at the altar—with his arms crossed over his chest.
My ecclesiastical criminality has been going on for 45 years. It all started at a Trappist abbey in Virginia.
I have a friend who visits his mother's burial site each year on the anniversary of her death. When the day comes, the mood is always solemn and deeply reflective--and tremendously difficult for other people in his life. What they don't know is that this annual ritual is generative, corrective. It helps anchor my friend for the rest of the year. I have another friend who almost never visits his parents' gravesite.