The Bible slams shut at the same moment that lights behind the cross are exinguished. The santuary is dark and silent. The bell is struck and it rattles the nerves. So begins the end of our worship service. It is an unsettling benediction.
We had our Maundy Thursday service tonight. It was a very good, very moving service. We join in collaboration with the local Methodst Church. We have a couple of hymns, lots ot readings, lots of prayers, a meditation, Holy Communion, and a stripping of the altar and paraments. We close in darkness with 33 gongs of the bell. While we will be open for prayer tomorrow, we do not have the bodies to observe Good Friday also.
These folks have been doing this service for a long time. The liturgy is from the desks of preachers past, both Presbyterian and Methodist. The couple who strip the table and paraments are the next generation from the couple who did it when I came here. It is their tradition, of that family and of these churches.
It is interesting to see who comes to this service. Maundy Thursday services are never heavily attended, but we had a young girl as well as older congregants. There just are not a lot from any one group. A minister who died last week, Rev. Norman Dowe, once told me that the folks who came out for these services are the faithful remnant. Lots of folks like to go from Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday without visiting the cross, so I concentrated more on the Passion last Sunday. I have also been discussing with clergy friends the idea of opening the Easter service in continuity with the end of the Maundy Thursday worship. Of course, we would not want to turn Easter attendance into Maundy Thursday attendance, would we?
