Grandson David invited me to go to his church for the Agape meal on Maundy Thursday. He had been before, but I didn’t know what to expect. We sat down in the fellowship hall among David’s friends and enjoyed chatting. The people there were so very warm and welcoming.

The scripture describing the Last Supper was read, and we had communion at our seats at the table. Then we had a meal of various breads, cheeses, fruits and nuts passed around on platters. Since Jesus washed the feet of his disciples, the pastor and some elders went around the tables washing the feet of those who desired it. David accepted; I observed. (I wear compression hose and did not want to struggle getting them off and back on. I couldn’t have done it without removing my slacks, so you can understand why I chose not to.) I longed to take a photo of David and his beloved pastor, but it was not appropriate. I memorized the scene, to be replayed on command.

We processed silently into the sanctuary, carrying the flowers on the table, symbolic of going to the garden. We sat in silent prayer as a few people stripped the altar and removed all decorative items from the front of the church. We left, a few at a time, going in silence to our cars.

The experience was moving, and I was very glad to be a part of it. Thank you, David.