here's to the Ale8...
This was my Friday night last week. I went to the grocery store - and I loathe going to the grocery store - and was there for over an hour. This grueling errand was made bearable only by my iPod. As I was leaving, I hear a loud clap of thunder overhead... and when I step outside, there is a strong wind blowing and what appears to be a light mist in the air. No problem, right? Unfortunately, somewhere between the exit of the store and where my car is parked, the floodgates of heaven open... FLOODGATES people! I was soaked in 10 seconds. Not to mention, my very full cart of groceries. It was a miracle I didn't break the eggs after slinging my groceries into my backseat. When I finally get back into the safe, dry confines of my car, I had the impulse to scream, curse, and laugh. I think I did all three. So when I get home, I was itching to kick back and relax, wind down after a stressful hour. So I played around on my my new computer, did a little video chat with Dwight. I drank an Ale8 and listened to my iPod and took self-portraits, while my my hair was still wet and wavy. This made life a lot better. Even if I was at home, by myself, sitting in a cold basement, on a Friday night...
I have off work on Good Friday. (I also missed the "wear your jeans" memo today... sigh.) Friday I am meeting a Belarusian guy from my church, Yura, for a Russian lesson. I was going to host a Seder dinner tonight, but ran out of time to plan it. Instead I will go to a Maundy Thursday service at church.
The word Maundy can be traced back to Old English, French, and Latin (so Merriam-Webster tells me). The Old English signifies "washing" whereas the French and Latin signify "command." This refers, apparently, to the foot washing ceremony that Jesus did, and his command in John 13:34: "Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another."
I don't know if anyone reading this has ever participated in a foot washing ceremony. I have. I was in the 8th grade. I may not even have been a believer at that point in my life. I remember distinctly a friend who refused to participate. She found the idea of washing someone's feet "disgusting" and she was likewise embarassed to have someone else wash her own, potentially smelly, feet. I remember participating in the ceremony. First my feet were washed, and then I washed someone else's next to me. I remember feeling a sense of awkwardness when my feet were washed, akin to "Don't do this! Really, stop kneeling in front of me, it's unnecessary..." - maybe this was also a result of that fact that the youth pastor at this church was the one washing my feet. Yet when I turned and did the same, my attitude was different. I found significance in the event, perhaps bordering on necessity even. It wasn't repulsive to me in any way. It wasn't awkward to me in the way it was before. It was humbling, yes, but I want to say that I even did this ceremony... with gratitude for being able to do it. Perhaps therein lies the necessity... after being served, I could not help but feel compelled to serve another. This also makes me think that sometimes the harder thing is really to let others serve us, than to be the servants. And yet Jesus continually serves us, even now. The question is, will we let Him serve us?
He served us a meal, He gave us His body and blood, He gave us a gift in the form of a Counselor, He gave us life, and He gave us freedom.
So I say, be free.
2 comments:
The summer before my senior year of high school, I went on a missions trip to inner-city Cincinnati with my youth group. One of the projects on our schedule was to go down to the park and wash people's feet. Also in high school I was part of a youth group footwashing ceremony. There was one girl in the youth group who put it together, and she washed all of our feet. It was a good experience of fellowship, but at the time I remember thinking that there was something strange and artificial about it. Some of the people in the park actually needed a footwashing, but we high-school students, our feet were just fine. In what way was this a service? I asked myself. I'm not sure if I still stand by those thoughts, but they're what occurred to me at the time.
Being served and being free sounds like a good idea.
Ale-8, another of Kentucky's fine attractions. That, and the world's largest peanut butter factory. Still not convinced, though.
I had forgotten, until I read this, that Sunday was Easter. I guess I can expect to be given another box of peeps to find a home for. I won't eat them myself, partly because they're not vegetarian, but mostly because they're an insult to good taste.
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