Be Loved This Lent
Photograph by samira sadeqi / Unsplash It was one of those nights when my mind wasn’t Read More

When I wrote this meditation it was just a couple of months after I lost my job as a scientist. I had worked for large companies for most of my career and was very used to the chain of command where I reported to a boss who reported to a higher boss and so forth—all the way up to the CEO, who reported to a board of directors. There were times when I was a first-level manager and had others reporting to me, but I always had someone higher up to report to. So for the first time in a long while, I had no one to give me a command of what to do with my day. It was difficult to get used to and is why I began to reflect on Christ as my commander. During my daily prayers each morning, I realized that he was still my real “boss.”
I began to sometimes modify my personal prayers, substituting “Lord” with “Boss” or “Commander,” and I noticed that it made me feel a bit uncomfortable. Living in a democracy, I did not have a real sense of what the word “lord” meant generically. In constitutional monarchies, the word has been reduced to an honorary title that does not reflect the power a lord once had. I’ll admit I am more comfortable with the Jesus “meek and mild” image rather than the Jesus “Lord and master” image.
I was very happy when The Upper Room decided to publish my meditation on Maundy Thursday. In a sermon I once heard that the word “maundy” comes from the Latin phrase Mandatum novum do vobis, which means, “A new commandment I give to you.” I am a history buff, and I have learned that in medieval England, they took this command quite literally. On Maundy Thursday, monarchs and high clergy would wash the feet of the commoners who were under their authority. The monarch would also give out Maundy money, a currency specially minted for this purpose. This Maundy money tradition still occurs in modern times.
I am always moved on Maundy Thursday when I witness the ritual of feet washing at our parish. Jesus devised the perfect ritual to teach leadership, service and humility. When I was a manager I learned about “servant leadership,” which has origins in John 15. I wonder how different it would be if all the world’s leaders—in government, business, and religion—followed the Lord’s example, not just on Maundy Thursday but throughout the year.
Since I wrote my meditation, I have retired from paid work and am looking for ways to volunteer for service. The artist group I belong to needed a treasurer, and since no one else wanted to do it, I volunteered. My art can also be a service. I painted Mother and Child, South Sudan, and it won an award in the group’s art exhibition. I am a shy person and felt embarrassed with the attention, but perhaps this award will bring more awareness to the humanitarian crisis occurring in South Sudan. I have also worked preparing food and serving it, and I have found that often just sitting down, sharing a meal, and talking with the clients can be the most powerful way of serving. It does not just change them, it changes me.
