Blessings as we enter holy week! Many of you have journeyed with ELCA World Hunger through Lent as we have reflected on the Psalms and what meaning that vast collection of hymns, poems, laments and prayers might have for hunger ministry today. As the season comes to a close, thank you for being part of the 40 Days of Giving!

Lent is a common time for congregations to focus on hunger and social ministry. Indeed, almsgiving is one of the traditional “three pillars” of Lent (the other two being prayer and fasting) and is still found as one of the disciplines of Lent observed by Lutherans today. While many of us think of fasting as the core practice of Lent, the history of the church reminds us that fasting and giving are two sides of the same coin. The witness of Isaiah goes even further, describing authentic fasting as intimately tied to love and justice for the neighbor:

Is this not the fast I choose, to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? (Is. 58:6)

Scripture and tradition make a good case for focusing on hunger ministry during Lent. But this upcoming weekend may be an even more important time to reinvigorate our efforts. As pointed as Isaiah’s message about fasting may be, for Lutherans, it is the feast – and not just the fast – that calls to us.

Sharing the Feast

Say what you will about Martin Luther (no, seriously, say whatever you want – he deserves heaps of both praise and blame), but he certainly knew how to craft a pithy phrase or two. One of his most famous couplets comes from his 1520 “Treatise on Christian Liberty”:

A Christian is a perfectly free lord of all, subject to none.

A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant of all, subject to all.

As paradoxical as it might seem, what Luther is getting at is that we don’t experience God as humanity’s captor, binding us to rules and obligations, but as our liberator. That’s not to say that there aren’t obligations and demands – the Law is still the Law and still God-given. But within the Gospel, God reveals Godself to be the one who frees us from bondage to sin, death and to the notion that we can save ourselves, hence “perfectly free.”

This is a dramatic shift in Christian ethics. Why do we do “good works”? Certainly, for Lutherans, we know that those works won’t save us. No amount of fasting or almsgiving will merit a reward (or even make us good people.) And it’s not merely because the Law, with its rules for righteous living, is so compelling (we can’t fully follow it anyway.) Instead, what motivates Lutheran ethics is the experience of being loved and set free from the burden of trying – and failing – to overcome our own sin. The foundation of loving a neighbor, of striving for justice and of working to end hunger is nothing more or less than gratitude.

To play a bit with Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s popular phrase “cheap grace,” this isn’t “cheap thanks.” It’s not the kind of gratitude for all the great things we have or, worse, the gratefulness that “at least we aren’t like them.” It’s deeper than that. What moves us to choose for ourselves being “subject to all” is the realization that our entire lives, our eternal salvation, is an undeserved gift. We don’t have to worry about our own salvation, or feeling as if we aren’t enough, or fearing that the world around us will corrupt our souls or separate us from God. Instead, we can freely and boldly love and serve one another. Social ministry is not a legalistic requirement but a response to an invitation to be part of what God is doing in the world: “Come and see!”

Easter, then, isn’t the celebratory end to the sacrifice of fasting and almsgiving in Lent but the very foundation of a new life lived in gift and promise, the free gift to be bold in our love of one another and the assured promise that in so doing, we are bearing witness to God’s building of a just world where all are fed. The feast of Easter nourishes us for the work ahead.

Surveying the Cross

We can’t get there too quickly, though. All too often, our Holy Week moves from Good Friday to Easter Sunday without giving us time to hang in the liminal space of Holy Saturday. Swiss theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar says that the church needs to avoid this temptation of moving too quickly from Good Friday to Easter Sunday. We have to be in that Holy Saturday moment with the disciples, von Balthasar writes, even just for a bit. For those disciples, that first day after Friday, Jesus is dead. The one they’d given up their lives to follow is now laying in a tomb. A quote often attributed to Luther describes the moment: “God’s very self lay dead in a grave.” For the disciples, there is no Easter Sunday. The messiah is dead, and hope seems lost.

Living after the resurrection, it’s difficult to fully understand that kind of grief, but we must because in that grief is honesty. For all the joy and hope and feasting of Easter, we live in a world where the number of people facing hunger is growing, not declining, where income inequality continues to rise, and where justice and opportunity seem further and further away, especially for communities whose strides toward progress are often stymied by violence, marginalization and oppression.

It’s a grief not only for our world, though, but also for our own shortcomings. As the church, the death of Christ reminds us of our own complicity in human suffering. Sure, the church has done some wonderful things, but the cross confronts us with the ways we have fallen short, the ways we have contributed to rather than alleviated injustice, the communities harmed by the church’s good intentions, and the people pushed aside, sometimes violently, as we have pursued what we call “mission.”

Living and Serving in Holy Week Tension

Living in Holy Saturday means living into that grief and honesty about ourselves and our world. Where Easter inspires joy in God’s promise, Holy Saturday fills us with a sacred longing for that same promise. In Easter, we celebrate it. In Holy Saturday, we yearn for it.

That movement between celebration and yearning, between joy and grief is the tension that grounds our work together as ELCA World Hunger and as a church accompanying neighbors in need. We are caught between the cross and the empty tomb, embodying the grief and longing of a long Holy Saturday before we see the promise fulfilled. And we should be. We celebrate as God works through communities near and far to create new opportunities for abundant life through neighbors joining together with determination and hope. And we lament for a world where the crosses of injustice, violence, marginalization, inequity, racism, heterosexism, sexism, ableism, ethnocentrism, exploitation and more continue to dot the landscape.

This is where the ministry of the church in a hungry world begins. Not in the self-sacrifice of Lent but in in grief and joy, in lament and hope, in yearning and thanksgiving, in the tension between Holy Saturday and Easter Sunday. It’s a costly faith that we find there, with no easy answers – but with the assurance that even then, God is still at work.

What might that mean for our day-to-day responses to hunger? What might it look like for hunger ministry to be grounded in both hope and lament? As we emerge into the season of Easter, I pray that that those questions can stay with us, that we can carry a bit of both Easter Sunday and Holy Saturday with us into the rest of the year.

Our journey through Lent doesn’t end at the cross or even the empty tomb but continues in the long walk with one another toward the future that is both promised and deeply, deeply needed.

Ryan P. Cumming, Ph.D., is the interim director for education and networks for the Building Resilient Communities team.

Ending hunger goes beyond providing calories. The ministry of ELCA World Hunger and the work we support together is about recognizing the significance of food and the ways it can bring us together with one another, with God, and with all of creation. In the sacrament Christ initiated on Maundy Thursday, we glimpse what the banquet table God has promised for our future might look like. Today, with churches closed and many fasting from the sacrament until we can be together again, the story of the first Maundy Thursday is particularly poignant. It reminds us of God’s presence at the many tables we dine at, and it reminds us of the powerful way God’s gift of food can bring us together in anticipation of that day when all will be fed.

In this spirit, Pastor Tim Brown offers a plan for an intentional meal at home for Maundy Thursday. Pr. Tim is a Gifts Officer and Mission Ambassador for the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago and a pastor and writer out of Raleigh, NC. You are invited to use the message below for personal devotion as well as prompts for sermon writing. 

Maundy Thursday Family Feast

Below is a full reflection with additional ideas. Here is a quick guide you can print and follow with your family: Family Maundy Thursday Quick Guide

Maundy Thursday is an observance of intention.  The word “maundy” is taken from “maundatum” or “mandate,” where Jesus commands his followers to love one another.

The whole observance is a story in three parts: confession and forgiveness, acts of service, and a meal of love.  For an adapted family service around the table, a simple prayer will suffice for confession and forgiveness on this night and will open the observance with sacred empty space.  The washing and meal that follow can be done with as much joy or as much solemnity as your family dynamics dictate.  Remember that the point of this observance is not to feel anything in particular, but rather to participate in a larger story that these holy days narrate.

It’s also important to note that, while your family meal is certainly sacred, this is not the Sacrament of Holy Communion and not a “Christian Seder.”  This is recalling what every Eucharist reminds us: every shared meal is ordinary and extraordinary, and Christ is present in our gathering whenever we dine in fellowship.

Decide What You Want to Eat for Dinner

So, what should you eat for dinner? Frankly, you’re welcome to eat whatever you’d most enjoy on this night.  If you want a more traditional Middle Eastern meal, not unlike the food Jesus may have eaten, grapes, dates, figs, olives, and some crusty bread are good additions to the table if everyone enjoys them. Perhaps some crackers and hummus, too. But if these aren’t in your usual diet or don’t agree with your palate, the point is not to re-enact a meal, but to have a meal, together. Eat what you’d like.

If, as part of your Holy Week observance you’ve made some bread, enjoy that on this night. Bread-baking as a family is a time-honored tradition that spans cultures and ages. Remember to enjoy the gathering, don’t sweat the details too much and just do everything with intention.

Gather Around the Table

To begin, gather the family together around the table, standing or seated. Invite everyone to take a deep breath and quiet themselves.  Light some candles to use as a centerpiece for the table if you have them. If using candles is unwise, or they aren’t available, just take some time to be quiet in God’s presence.

Talk Together

After a while, invite everyone to share their favorite memory that involves a meal. It could be a favorite dish from childhood, a time they shared food with someone at school or on a trip, a special event that they attended, or even a perennial meal they enjoy. What do they enjoy about it? Why?

Pray Together

Then, invite someone to offer a prayer with these, or similar, words. Note that the prayer should both give thanks for the gift of shared meals and food and also acknowledge that we too often ignore the hungry around us.  In this way the prayer is both an act of praise and confession.

“Gracious God, you give us good things to eat and invite us to share with one another.  Thank you for the many ways you feed our minds, feed our hearts, and the very real ways you feed our bellies each day. We also know that we do not share our food, our minds, and our hearts in the ways that you would have us.  For the ways we don’t give of ourselves and our resources, we ask you forgiveness.  And for the many ways you sustain us, we give you thanks.  On this holy night when Jesus shared his last meal with his friends, we remember the great gift it is to eat and spend time with one another. Thank you for this meal, for this holy night, and for all your gifts. Amen.”

Wash Each Other’s Feet or Hands

Invite everyone to be seated with their chairs facing outward, away from the table. Have a bowl of substantial size nearby, like a mixing bowl, a pitcher or larger cup of warm water and a towel for drying.

Invite someone to read John 13:1-17, the story of Jesus washing the feet of the disciples. After you’ve read the story, say the following (or something like it):

“On this night we have heard our Lord’s commandment to love one another as he has loved us. We who receive God’s love in Jesus Christ are called to love one another, to be servants to each other as Jesus became our servant. Our commitment to this loving service is signified in the washing of feet, following the example our Lord gave us on this night.”

Then invite each family member, in turn, to wash one foot of another member of the family, carefully drying it.  Only one foot is necessary, and each person should take a turn. If foot washing is not preferable, you can do hand washing instead, though there is something particularly special and intimate about foot washing.

If you’re performing this ritual with children, it’s natural for them to laugh and giggle during this. This is OK! This night should be about enjoyment as much as it is about sacred acts. Often, they are one and the same. During the foot-washing, it’s appropriate to sing if your family is a singing family. “Come by Here” is a great option, or even just a verse of a familiar song like “Amazing Grace” or “Jesus Loves Me” works well.

After foot-washing, you can invite people to wash their hands and turn their chairs to face back toward the table for the meal.

Eat Together

After everyone is seated and ready, enjoy the meal! Invite people to share reflections about their day, or perhaps ask them what they liked or didn’t like about the foot washing. You can ask those gathered what love means, how they like to best express love, and what the most beautiful act of love they’ve ever seen was.

Tell the Story Together

Toward the end of the meal, but before you’re completely done, invite everyone to quiet back down as you tell the story of the meal portion of the last supper. During this part, I encourage you not to lift up any bread or wine, but if there is bread on the table or a drink, you can reference it as a reminder of the meal. Read 1 Corinthians 11:23-26, recalling Jesus’ last supper.

Then say these words, or something similar:

“Tonight we have participated in a supper like Jesus’ last as his disciples gathered together around him.  The Gospels tell us that after supper Jesus and his disciples sang a hymn together and went out to the Mount of Olives.  You’ll be given a few minutes to eat just a bit more and have another few sips, and then we’ll begin cleaning up quietly, without any loud talking, taking any dishes to the kitchen sink, wiping down tables, and sweeping up. Everyone gets to help.  After we clean up, we’re going to stay pretty quiet the rest of the night to honor this holy night.”

Clean Up

Invite everyone to clean up quietly. On this night where it’s tradition to strip the altar and take everything out of the sanctuary, you may want to take your clean up a little farther by sweeping the whole room, washing down the tables and chairs and countertops, and even keeping the table free from adornments like table cloths or candles. Make everything bare.

After the clean-up is done, invite everyone back around the table for a final prayer saying these words, or something similar:

“I’m glad we got to share this time together tonight!  As we remember Jesus’ last meal, let’s keep honoring it by spending some time together. But before we do that, let’s pray, ‘Thank you, God, for this most holy night, and for Jesus’ example of love.  Help us to love each other, and ourselves, as you love us, and may we always remember the deep love shown through Jesus, a love that will do anything for us. Give us a holy rest tonight, a sweet sleep, so that we may rise to praise you in the morning. Amen.”

Enjoy a Quiet Night Together

Then decide on a family how you will spend the rest of the night! You can read quietly together, or maybe read aloud all from one book. You can play a family game together, listen to music, or if it’s getting late for young children, a bath and story-time is very appropriate. In these days of shelter-in-place when screen-time has probably been at a premium, this is a perfect night to keep all screens off and keep visual distractions to a minimum, including phone distractions.

A Maundy Thursday service in the home should both feel distinct from a normal night routine, and also very familiar. After all, Jesus’ last supper was, at its heart, a simple meal with his friends. Though this Maundy Thursday doesn’t look like many in our lifetime, it can still honor the holiness of the night when done with a little preparation, intention, and a lot of sacred joy.