Here begins the undoing of Jesus

Today is Maundy Thursday. It is the day in the church calendar we commemorate and reflect upon Jesus' last supper with his followers, the moment he washes his disciples' feet, his arrest, and the time he spent before Jewish leaders before they handed him over to the Romans for crucifixion on Friday.

Here begins the undoing of Jesus Christ, until he is physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually stripped bare and dies.

Kate Bowler and Jessica Richie capture the love, the brokenness, and the grace of this moment in the following poem:

This is the night that it begins,
the festival of grief and somehow triumph.
The end is near.

Jesus, we are beginning to understand that
your grace makes no sense --
grace sits next to betrayers,
grace washes the feet of backstabbers,
grace breaks bread with the disloyal,
grace shares a cup with double-dealers.

Jesus, you are undoing every guarantee
that, in loving you, I will not lose.

You are losing everything.

Bless me now, as I see your sacrifice.
How you are pleading with us to love,
as your friends break your heart.
How you are showing us how to remember,
when we long to forget
that in your undoing, you remade the world.

~ by Kate Bowler and Jessica Richie

On the one hand, today makes no sense. Why must God lose everything? Why must he be undone on the Cross? What kind of crazy, stupid, naive love would compel these actions (and why would I call that love crazy, stupid, and naive)?

This is not a devotional to answer those questions. Instead, I invite you to sit in the discomfort of seeking the answers for yourself.

PAUSE and REFLECT: As you read the poem, what line calls out to you? On what words do your eyes linger as you enter into a curious exploration of their meaning?

Jesus is losing everything.
His grace makes no sense.
He is undone.

And thus the world is remade.