Maundy Thursday: Jesus, the Anxious Savior

GUEST POST BY VALERIE BOYER

I usually start these reflections with some level of sarcasm, or satire, something to ease the tension of how heavy this week is. Today, I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t ease into the depths of this day, which is appropo to this day in Holy/Hell week. As I look at the text again, all of its nuances and moving pieces, I find myself weepy. Weepy because of the gravity of this day. Weepy because of how familiar it feels. It’s just a lot to deal it with, and I’m not even Jesus. I encourage you to step away if necessary, and come back to this space. I also encourage you to sit with it. I encourage you to talk to someone. I also encourage you to find some happiness today, because “for black folks, happiness is an act of resistance,” a nugget of wisdom from fighter Jack Johnson. We have to lean in though, because healing and unpacking happens on the inside, so deep breaths. Ready? Let’s go!

Luke 22:7-38 gives an account of this layered dinner and prayer service that would happen on Thursday. This was supposed to be a celebratory day. In Jewish heritage, people were gathering to celebrate The Passover Meal, to commemorate when enslaved Jews were released from the exile of Egypt. The night before they left, they were instructed to put the blood of a lamb over their doorpost, so that the death angel would pass over. That means in order to COME OUT, they had to STAY IN. This was PREVENTATIVE work, and the only way to be safe was to STAY IN THE HOUSE! IF they were caught outside at that time, they were susceptible and vulnerable to whatever was passing through the land. *stares at churches that are still opened, in first grade sunday school lesson understanding* Once that night was over, they were considered a free people. They didn’t become a people absent of persecution, nor did everything turn sunny-side up, but they were liberated. This is the heritage of which we get this Jesus, who clearly has all the reason in the world to celebrate! 

But Jesus doesn’t get to go in and just sit, and celebrate with his people. Instead he has to go in and tell them the worst thing he could tell the people he loves. Here at dinner, in true Black family fashion, He decides that this is a good time to put all of the cards on the table. Dinner has always been an epicenter to share the blessings, and burdens, of life. The table is where “Joys and Concerns” went down, before they were even a thing. And Jesus uses this dinner to make an announcement. He basically says “Well fam, I’m about to die.” The disciples respond in a way that I imagine anyone would react to such crazy news.

And what is insane, is the amount of motifs that have to be exposed on the table. He has to hold a mirror to Peter’s heart and actions. It’s hard to tell your boy you know he’s flaky, but you love him anyway, hours before you lose your life. It’s even harder to have to send Judas on to do his dirty work, but only after he eats. I can’t tell you how many meals my grandmothers served to people, when they knew that people were about to go and make life-changing decisions, but fed them anyway because “even people making foolish decisions have to eat, baby. From the best of us to the worst of, no one should be kept from food, which is humanity in its most basic form,” a parable from my grandmother, Mamatex. And so, in true “love of humanity” form, Jesus lets Judas eat before he has to go.What started as a celebratory dinner has turned into….this. And as one last act of love, before life changes forever, HE washes THEIR feet. You’d think it’d be the other way around, but unconditional sacrificial love knows no bounds.

Then they head to Gethsemane to pray, because even Jesus needs a moment. The story goes, that he just asked them to be on the lookout while he talks to his father. That’s it. That’s all. Every time he comes to check-in though, they’ve fallen asleep, and he’s angry, AS HE SHOULD BE! He’s about to suffer an underserved public lynching execution, but still made sure dinner happened, still washed their feet, and still kept his disciples near him, after exposing how flawed they’d be in this process. They had one job. He had one request, and they couldn’t even do that?!?! And we’re not dealing with just any regular-degular Jesus. We’re dealing with Jesus, who even knowing what’s coming, is praying for an alternative route to this, if there be an option. Maybe that’s why there was no compelling reason to stay awake. He prayed to the point that blood came streaming down. 

For those of you who haven’t caught the implication, we’re just going to call it what it is. We’re dealing with an anxious Jesus. And from what we read, maybe the disciples were okay falling asleep because this vulnerable, anxious, Jesus completely contradicts the strong, always “okay” Jesus they knew. We’re dealing with a Jesus who wrestles with anxiety, because life has a way of getting heavy sometimes, and in this story, we learn that even the most divine struggles.

Lord, deliver us from the myth that our divinity exempts us from our anxiety, our humanity. 

Approximately a year ago, I was diagnosed with General Anxiety Disorder, and my doctor suspects that it has been present in my life long before an actual diagnosis. For many reasons, including cultural and religious, I too was a prisoner to the myth. My divinity should’ve been enough to take care of it. In the age of Da Rona, I’ve seen people, with and without diagnosis, suffer and wrestle with anxiety, and be condemned for it. Today, I say no longer. You can finish the chapter to find out what happens next, but we’re going to stop here today. If Jesus doesn’t get through Holy/Hell Week, and to Calvary without wrestling through some anxiety, then in the age of Da Rona, we too, get to be like Jesus.

If Jesus can suffer with anxiety, and still be Jesus, then maybe just maybe, anxiety isn’t flawed. Maybe it’s actually divine..

Feel your feelings, anxiety including. They’re not only necessary. They’re actually divine. Also, check on your strong friends, the ones, who like myself, didn’t know vulnerability and humanity were options. Be better than the disciples were. Notice when someone isn’t okay. Be aware, and be present. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. 

Then, be kind and gentle with yourselves, because Calvary soon comes. 

Born and raised in Galveston, TX, curated at Howard University, journeying to Detroit, and now Columbus, OH, Valerie has spent her life through the lens of preaching, praying, poetry and activism. Today is no different. Her love for her  God, family, community, both locally and global fuels her passion for all that she does. Her favorite quote is “when life gives you lemonade, sprinkle black girl magic, make apple juice, and leave people wondering how it happened.”

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