This post might have a better home at Stuff White People Like rather than at Value wIT. However, since the post ponders the humor surrounding certain religious values, it fits well here.

As many of you may know today is Maundy Thursday. More than likely, however, the lot of you atheists, agnostics, Mormons, Jews, Buddhists and good ol’ Southern Baptists might never have heard of Maundy Thursday. In the white bread world of the Episcopalian, Maundy Thursday is the third event – Christmas and Easter are the others – where there is some sense of drama during a service.  Well, as much drama as the Episcopalian church will offer.

If you don’t know about traditional Episcopal churches, in a nutshell, we silently gather in a subtle, yet ornate building, sit in our pew and stare into The Book of Common Prayer to avoid eye contact with other parishioners. There is no chitchat. At most, if you meet the eyes of someone you know, a tight-lipped smile or head nod is the most you offer. If you don't know the person, you are free to look away.

Very warm. Very Christian.

Explaining the service to friends who attend Baptist or African American churches sounds ludicrous. In the Episcopal Church there is no hand raising, belting out of heartfelt songs, or free-form prayers…especially prayers delivered by non-clergy. An Episcopal service is a tightly scripted event.  Prayer books are opened, the celebrant (minister, pastor, leader) reads a sentence and the congregation follows along in the book and repeats the proper response.

In 1979 when the service was changed to add “The Peace” my mother refused to adapt, and as much as I like to be as different as possible from my mother, we both agree to shun The Peace. The service moves along with various recitations of The Nicene Creed, The Lord’s Prayer and then The Peace pops in like a Britney Spears song at a Brahms recital. The congregation is suddenly expected to act like humans and say hello to the person to their left and right.  My mother ignores her neighbors, crosses her arms, smiles and sits down with her head buried in The Book of Common Prayer. Me too.

The gist is that aside from incense at Easter and Christmas and a slug of wine every Sunday – or every fifth Sunday, attendance is not mandatory -- the service is more sedate than a restorative yoga class.  Maundy Thursday strips the sterling silver vessels, silk brocade hangings and exquisitely needle pointed pillows from the altar. The candles are snuffed and the lights are turned off. Wow. That’s some excitement for the whiskey-palians.

HOWEVER, tonight some radical clergy stirred things up and decided to reenact the scene where Jesus washed the feet of his disciples. Stripping off their robes and setting up a pedicure station, the congregation was invited to get their feet washed.  Sitting in my section of old women, I watched as shoulders hunched in disbelief then necks extended in haughtiness. The thought of whipping off the Ferragamos and letting the clergy touch their feet was not happening. Glad the collection had already been taken before this turd in the punchbowl happened.

The church is a university church and there were some college kids at the service who had their feet washed and their post-washed expressions were exuberant.   The standard bunch of us looked on like we were watching a game of Spin the Bottle. I could almost hear the woman in front of me thinking, “It looks fun, but I could never let myself go like that.”

At the end of the service my job along with one other person is to drink the remaining consecrated wine. Tough job, but someone has to do it. I let my partner, who is about 75 years old, know that I was on a diet and couldn’t drink a tumbler of cheap port. As she slammed the approximate 10 ounces of blessed wine, she slurred, “I'm going home and washing my own damn feet."

Comments

[Deb (Missives From Suburbia)]

Wine? Pedicures? WHY am I not Episcopalian?

[Forrest Preece]

One of my favorite comments from network TV-- St. Elsewhere, to be exact. The Ed Begley, Jr. resident character asked the chief of surgery-- "Is there some minimum income requirement to be an Episcopalian?"

[Shellie]

I'm sorry, but after wearing the heels to church with the pizza shaped toe, I would have let anybody touch my feet if I could just take off my shoes and stick 'em in water.