Today we enter into the Triduum, literally, the “three days”. Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and on through Holy Saturday to Easter. “Wait!” you say, “That is four days”. In our world, yes, but in the world of first century Judaism we would be counting from sunset to sunset which means we start at 6pm on Thursday.

I have been thinking this week about what was going on around this story which we celebrate. My thoughts have been rather like those moments when you are flying into an airport and you look down and see cars and school buses, businesses and houses, all part of a usual fabric of life. People being born, people dying, people working, people learning and for a few moments as you descend, you are an observer, until you enter the hustle and bustle of the airport and are swallowed up into being “just another” in a big and relentless city.

That we are not just another is central to this story. That we, like those first Disciples, are invited to come out from our obscurity and find ourselves known as we break bread, to find ourselves served and serving as we wash feet, to struggle with our tiredness as we are asked to watch with Jesus in the Garden. Amongst all that we do not know, all those who do not know us, we find, tonight, a place of ultimate recognition and welcome. “Do this, in remembrance of me.”