Revelry and Sacredness
It was a beautiful Tennessee night last night. The air was cool. The trees were luscious with new life. Flowers were blooming. As I walked into the church last night, I noticed the small dogwood near the cross in front of the church. The cross was draped with royal purple. Encompassed in a circular planting, the dogwood stood behind it. I didn’t know what to expect as I turned the gold handle of the glass door to the church. It had been a struggle to decide to go to church last night. The little Methodist church that I have been attending was having their Maundy Thursday service. I had never been to a Maundy Thursday service. I knew they were going to wash feet and have Eucharist. I knew the foot washing was optional. I knew I would opt out. I had an internal struggle all day. I am uncomfortable when I attend this church. It isn’t the formality of the service. It’s that I feel so out of place. I know only a few people there. Of the ones I know, I have no close bonds