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  • Writer's pictureK.C. Runkel

Holy Week Series: Maundy Thursday

He loved them to the very end.

Taking a basin of water, he washed their feet. What seemed as though a simple act of humble submission was really a glorious account of love.

Still, one was left unclean.

The first act of betrayal had already been established. Within a few hours, it would be complete.

Yet, he continued to break the bread.

A reminder of his body that would soon be torn in a similar—albeit much more sinister—fashion.

And he shared it with the traitor who then swiftly left.

The magnitude of that seemingly small act is not lost on me. To look upon an act of evil and give yourself over to it seems too difficult to imagine.

And yet, in light of a perspective that lives outside of time, the choice was simple.

But certainly not easy.

Of course, the others didn’t really understand what he was doing. At least, not entirely.

But I suspect that at some point in time in the coming days, weeks, months, or years, each man looked back on that night with fresh eyes.

And saw the bigger picture.

The symbolism dipped in the purest of love.

Thursday night was bittersweet.

So much loving kindness swirled together with the ultimate betrayal.

But the Lord takes even the most evil of doings, and works them for His good.

Tomorrow will be dark.

But Sunday is coming.

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