I started this blog as an experiment with loosely defined goals.  The major goal being that I write something each day about how I am feeling in the journey. Today is it difficult to put words to the page and part of me just wants to skip today – to run away.

Last night I attended Maundy Thursday service and did the ancient rituals.  Sadness hit me at a couple of levels.  One there is the whole thing about Jesus about to be killed in a most horrific way.  Then there is the sadness that there were so few of them in the room.  I am a bit of mystic in my tendencies and spiritual practice so I value a good ritual but I fear I am an exception.  Even among my fellow church members few find the same value and comfort in performing the ancient practices of communion, foot washing, prayer, etc.  The fear that struck me in the middle of the service was that when I am in my dotage, there will be no one else to attend the ritual with me – that I’ll be all alone in my faith.  Then I was ashamed of my selfishness and tried to block that thought from my mind.

I fear that the world will crush me and my brothers.  I fear that it will take away from me my fellow believers and deny me the comfort of a simple meal – one that means so much to me.  Would it hurt them to share the cup just once?  My mind wants to scream in pain.

Today is a day that I struggle to write –  to find words to express anything meaningful.  My thoughts swirl around what must the followers of Jesus been feeling and doing through this day after his arrest.  Where did they go?  Did they fear for their lives? Did they think that the revolution of Jesus was over?  What pain were they feeling in their minds and souls?  Questions.  Never answers.

Failing to come up with anything else, I’ve decided to do what Jesus’s disciples did on this day.  I am going to run away and hide.  Oh, I will attend the noon service but otherwise I am taking a mental vacation and pretend that I’d don’t know anything about what has happened this week or what is about to happen on a cross on a hill at the hands of soldiers.