Holy Thursday

Holy Thursday in the Spanish Speaking World is the day Catholic churches create magnificent Altars to house the Holy Host and commemorate the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ.

For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity dwells in bodily form.  

Colossians 2: 9

On Maundy Thursday, or Holy Thursday, (the Day of the Mandatum, which in Latin means Commandment) Christians begin to celebrate, remember and reflect upon the last days that our Lord Jesus walked upon this earth.  Often we attend services that re-create the Last Supper and/or the washing of the feet.  All throughout the Christian world, followers of Jesus hear about how The Lord commanded us to serve and to love as He did.  I, personally, can’t help but to think about the countless Holy Thursdays I spent in my hometown back in Panama.

Ever since I was a little girl, I became fascinated by this Holy Day.  As soon as I was old enough, I began to go by myself to church services that nobody else in my family wanted to attend (except my Mom, who often did accompany me in my Holy Week tours).  I sat through seemingly endless solemn masses filled with mystical rituals that deeply intrigued me.  I wanted to learn the significance of every little ceremony and I thirsted for the Word.  Even though I didn’t fully understand the meaning of many of the religious practices I witnessed, I always experienced a profound sense of the Divine in my heart and soul.

Of all these practices, I remember fondly the events of Holy Thursday.  On that day, there is a high mass at the Cathedral, followed by a very long and very special procession.  It is particularly special because it is a procession in which only men can participate.  “La procession de los hombres,” the procession of the men is called.  Silence is the main characteristic of this event.  Hundreds of men walk in silence and reverence behind a statue that represents Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane.  The procession stretches for a few miles on the main avenues of my hometown as women and children quietly watch it go by, trying to pin point their own among the sea of men of all ages who process in front of them. 

For years, I too was one of the women standing on the sidewalk, watching the men go by in quiet awe.  Not a pin drop can be heard; only the footsteps on the pavement like the sound of a grieving drum.  Ever since I remember my Father walked that procession.  I always looked out for him.  Seeing his tall, slender and straight figure among other familiar faces of uncles, and cousins was comforting.  It was a statement that my earthly father does follow the Way.

After the procession, after women and children are re-united with their men; my family would go home and I would stay at church for a little longer worshiping the Living God at the freshly adorned Altar of the Host.  All across towns in countries like Panama, churches decorate a prominent place in the front of the church with candles and flowers.  These altars are called “Monumentos” or monuments and some feature statues of angels and even stairs that guard and lead to a “monumental” vessel or arc that contains the Holy Host.  Believers kneel down around the outer edges of the “Monumento” and worship.  Churches stay open all night long during Holy Thursday, and there is always someone praying by the foot of the Altar of the Host all throughout.  I remember my sister’s interest on the “Monumentos” sparked a few years after I’d left Panama, and she began a tradition to visit as many as she could during the night of Holy Thursday.  I think my Mom used to go with her.  And I believe my sister continues that tradition still today, even if by herself. 

At any rate, I can’t help but remember these two aspects of my past which marked the celebration of Holy Thursday year after year.  Even though both rituals, the procession as well as the Altars of the Host represent only man-made traditions; as I reflect on them today, they do play a part in my current relationship with my Lord.  I think about them now and I see clearly how they both point to that instance when Jesus’ humanity becomes most apparent to me.  They both remind me of Jesus night at the Garden of Gethsemane.  They both echo the night that Jesus prayed for the bitter cup to be taken away from Him.  They both speak of the night that Jesus was overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.  On that night, Jesus asked His disciples, His friends, to stay with Him and keep watch, as He prayed to Abba, Father in distress.

Jesus, in His humanity, needed His close friends to be there with Him in his hour of greatest agony.  As we know, the disciples could only hold on for a little while, since they were overcome by sleep to Jesus’ dismay.  Jesus continued His earnest prayer until His sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground.  Angels came to strengthen Him, for men couldn’t endure. 

Jesus’ suffering pierces my heart.  As I read the passages in the Gospels again today, I hear the distant footsteps of the hundreds of men walking silently in the procession of Holy Thursday as a representation of Jesus calling them to keep watch with Him.  The men who say yes walk behind Him in solemn vigil.  They know they are not strong enough to fulfill the task on their own.  But they also know that they don’t have to.  Even in the hour of His greatest agony, Jesus is strong enough for all of us.  

When I read Jesus’ words, “yet not what I will, but what you will.” And “Enough!  The hour has come.  Look, the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners.  Rise!  Let us go!  Here comes my betrayer,” in Mark 14: 16-41 I see Jesus’ Divine nature taking the lead role to commence His Holy Passion.  I think of Jesus as Commander of His and my destiny.  I feel His power rise again and I know He is in control of whatever is about to happen.  That’s what the Altar of the Host or “Monumentos” make me think of as I remember them today.  They represent the glory of the Lord.  He is man, but He is also God and King, and as such He deserves the most visible location, the most beautiful and fragrant of the flowers and the most brilliant of the candles.  He deserves our best.  He demands our all because He is worthy of our praise and worship all night long, and all the days of our lives. 

I think of my sister and her tour of the Altars around our hometown and I see a devotion born out of her deep love for our Lord, a love that took a long time to sprout, but that it is now in full bloom.  I see the kind of relationship that grows out of hardship and pain, and it’s watered by tears.  I see a contrite spirit, the perfect offering that ascends to the throne of the Most High like the most pure of incense. 

Easter celebrations take many different shapes and forms.  The external expressions of our devotion, however, are not the essential aspect of this Holiest of times.  What’s important is that on this Holy Thursday, as we stand at the door of the Easter season, we remember how Jesus asks us to follow Him to the Garden and to the Cross so one day we can also follow Him to His throne.

This particular "Monumento" reminds me of those at the Cathedral in my hometown.