Imagine…Maundy Thursday, the Day Before Jesus Dies

It’s Thursday.

Jesus already knows what the day entails. Did He sleep that night, or did He toss and turn until the sun rose that morning?

We don’t know how He spent His last free morning, but in the early evening, He gathers His disciples—this band of ragtag men He loves—for the Passover meal. He lovingly and humbly washes their feet, realizing one of them will betray Him before the day is over.

He’s going to die tomorrow. That had to be front of mind. Is His stomach roiling as He eats His food? He seems more interested in pouring out His heart to His friends. 

Does He savor this time? It’s the last meal He will ever share with His beloved twelve. And, He knows most of them will flee and scatter when He needs them most. How does He keep from crying? How does He keep on loving?

He confronts Judas with kindness, in spite of his thievery and his disloyalty.

In the garden, He implores His inner circle to stay awake with Him while He prays a gut-wrenching prayer before His Father, but they fall asleep. They reveal their weaknesses in His greatest hour of need—and He loves them anyway.

He is arrested when Judas betrays their friendship with a kiss.

In the chaos of anger and hatred, Jesus restores the severed ear of the high priest’s servant. He is being treated roughly and unfairly, yet rather than focus on the abuse—or even on the horror ahead—He shows compassion.

I wonder what the servant, and those who witnessed this last miracle, thought about that? Did it give them pause? Cause them to question the logic of what was happening? I imagine the servant remembered Jesus’ compassionate act the remainder of his life.

Jesus is dragged away without a single friend at His side. He is abandoned, save the presence of His heavenly Father. Was there a desperate, non-stop prayer running through His mind? Or, were His thoughts about what was coming next? I suspect it was both.

In the span of an evening, Jesus moves from loving companionship with His dearest friends, to isolation and aloneness. He has poured His life into these men for three years. He has walked, prayed, laughed, shared meals, and worked with them, and done countless miracles in their presence.

Where are they now? Some fled. Two followed the angry mob at a distance. One denies Him—not once, but three times.

Who was there to comfort Him, reassure Him? As far as we know, not one loving word was again spoken to Jesus that Thursday. That last full day of His life on earth.

That Thursday morning when Jesus woke up, He knew His most cherished friends would prove to be frail and fickle when He needed them most.

Yet, He loved them. 

Oh, how He loved them. And how He loves us. 

Enough to lay down His precious life for them.

And for us.