A Maundy Thursday Service
“I Am Here; I Bear Witness”
By Rev. Lynn Smilie Nesbitt
Narrator
Luke tells us, at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry: “And certain women who had been healed of evil spirits and infirmities –Mary called Magdalene, out of whom had come seven demons, and Joanna, wife of Chuza, Herod’s steward, and Susannah, and many other who provided for him from their substance.”[1]
We know that these women are in Jerusalem during Holy Week; we know that they are at the cross. We have no written sources that tell what these women are doing on Maundy Thursday. This presentation takes what we do know, what the scriptures say, and, within those boundaries, lets the women tell their stories. Each story they tell is recorded in the gospels. Hear now these voices from the shadows, the testimony of the women.
Susanna
My name is Susanna. We here tonight are the hidden ones, the ones always present, but always in the shadows. The other women and I began following Jesus at the beginning. We are the ones who finance his ministry. We are the ones who buy the food. We pay for lodging. We replace the sandals worn out from walking these rocky, dusty roads. We followed him into Jerusalem and were part of the parade into Jerusalem last Sunday. And we are here tonight, helping to prepare the food.
I am here. I bear witness.
Mary the Mother of Jesus
I am Mary, widow of Joseph, mother of Jesus. Now that I am alone in the world, I travel with my son Jesus. No mother ever forgets the birth of her children, but I have more to remember than most. I have more to puzzle over, trying to understand. Never have I been so proud as when we walked into Jerusalem last Sunday, the crowds welcoming all of us, but especially my little boy—because he will always be my little boy. Tonight I helped the other women prepare and serve the food, withdrawing to the shadows as the men ate, vigilant in case there be any need. And I saw Jesus, my Jesus, tell them that he was giving them a new commandment. I saw him take the towel and basin and kneel, washing their feet. I do not understand this. He is their teacher, their rabbi; why is he acting as a servant? [2] I do not understand, but I feel that something has changed, the universe has shifted somehow.
After supper I saw him take the bread, bless it, break it and share it with the twelve. “This is my body broken for you,” he said, “Eat and remember.” Then he took the cup, blessed it, and shared it with the twelve. “This is my blood,” he said.[3] My own blood ran cold. What does this mean?
I am here; I bear witness.
Music Interlude
Mary Magdalene
I am Mary of Magdala. Jesus saved me.[4] I don’t mean that he keeps me from going to hell, although he certainly does that. I mean he saved me. I was very ill, tormented in my mind and body, unable to have a normal life. Jesus healed my body and mind and opened the way to God for me. I will follow him for the rest of my life, follow him into hell itself if he asks it. I with the other women traveled with him to Jerusalem from Galilee along with the Twelve.
Did you think that I would stay in that Upper Room when he left it? I slipped behind the men, unnoticed, and walked to the Garden of Gethsemane. The oil presses loomed solid in the moonlight. I watched Jesus’ agony, watched the Twelve drift into sleep while he prayed. I watched the soldiers come.
I am here. I bear witness.
The Mother of John Mark
It is my house where they came to have supper. The other women and I prepared the meal and served it. My teenage son, John Mark, was fascinated by Jesus, hanging on every word he spoke. John Mark stood in the shadows with us and listened during supper until I sent him on to bed. I didn’t know until later that when Jesus and the Twelve left for the garden, John Mark heard them leaving and leapt out of bed, wrapping a sheet around himself, following them to the garden. He came in very late, not a stitch on, and after he dressed, told me what he saw.
Jesus struggled in prayer. It was very quiet, most of those there falling asleep. Jesus woke them up and told them it was time to leave. Then they heard the march of soldiers and saw the torches lifted high. He realized the men had come to arrest Jesus; he saw Judas identify the Lord with a kiss. “All day long I teach in public,” Jesus told the soldiers. “Why are you coming here with swords, at night, to arrest me?” The soldiers grabbed Jesus and John Mark turned to sneak away when a soldier grabbed him by the sheet he was wearing; John Mark managed to get away, leaving the sheet behind.[5] I have my son safe here with me—but where is my Lord? Where is Jesus?
I am here. I bear witness.
Music Interlude
Joanna
I am Joanna, wife of Chuza, Herod’s steward. My husband’s boss is a monster. Herod was curious about John the Baptist, so my husband went with him into the wilderness to see him. He should have known better: John never held anything back and admonished Herod for divorcing his own wife and marrying his brother’s wife. Herod promptly arrested John and put him in jail.
In that, he gave Chuza and me the greatest gift. As Chuza tended to John, John told him of Jesus. I had been ill for years, bound by my sickness; John told Chuza that Jesus could heal me. John was right; Jesus healed me. Chuza and I would have done anything for Jesus; but we knew that Herod would never let Chuza go. In fact, Herod had beheaded John the Baptist. So together Chuza and I planned that I would follow Jesus, learn from him and support his ministry with our wealth. I then could tell Chuza what I had learned.
Tonight I followed Jesus, my beloved Lord, as he was brought bound into the high priest’s court. I fear for Jesus. The chief priest, like Herod, has no mercy, only ambition. Dear God, what will happen to Jesus?
I am here. I bear witness.
The High Priest’s Servant
I am a lowly maid for the high priest. I have not worked here long. I came up from the country, from a family so poor they do not have enough to feed all of us anymore. My parents thought that the high priest’s household would be safer for me—I hope they never find out what goes on in this place. Here at least I have a roof over my head and enough to eat. I see more than I ever dreamed existed as I grew up in my little town. I see the splendid but I also see evil. Even though I am in the lowest ranks of servants, cleaning dishes and washing clothes, I see a lot. Tonight, long after dark, I heard soldiers coming through the gates. I came out, staying by a charcoal fire to stay warm. They were taking the Galilean Jesus into the palace to stand before the priest. He is quiet, neither screaming in fear nor shouting his innocence. That makes for a change—all the prisoners I’ve seen before were loud in their objections.
I’ve seen Jesus before. I was at the parade last Sunday, when Jesus and his followers came into Jerusalem. Now I see another man I recognize, one who was with Jesus. “You were with Jesus the Galilean,” I say to him. “I don’t know the man,” he said.
One of my friends up on the porch said, “Yes you are, I saw you with him.” “I tell you I never met him,” the man shouts back. Then a man a little bit away said, “I can tell you are a Galilean by your accent.” The man yelled back that he had no idea what we are talking about. Then I hear a rooster crow. Can it be that late—early morning now? And I see the man who had been with Jesus, the Galilean we’d been talking with, sobbing.[6]
I am here. I bear witness.
Narrator
And thus the Light of the World is arrested and judged in darkness.
These women followed Jesus, each in the way they were able. Some of their names we know; some are known only to God. Each stayed the course, keeping close by Jesus even as he died. Each went, after the resurrection, to bear witness to the risen Lord.
So each of us, in the way we are able, are invited to follow Jesus. In what way will we follow? And how do we bear witness?
[1] Luke 8:2-3 NRSV
[2] John 13:1-20
3 Luke 22:14-20
[4] Luke 8:2-3
[5] Mark 14:51
[6] Luke 22:54-62