Mass of the Lord's Supper

april 2nd final

What I am doing you do not know now, but afterward you will understand.

As Jesus knelt in service to His apostles, washing their (probably stinky and dirty) feet, Peter asked what was going on. He didn't understand and was—not for the first time—confused. Here Jesus was, celebrating the traditional Passover meal with them, and doing something different. Peter and the others grew up with the Passover. It was sacred ritual and commemoration to them. Washing feet just wasn't part of it. So Peter says, "Lord, do you wash my feet?" I imagine if it was me, I might say, "Um . . . Lord, what are you doing?"

Jesus knew they wouldn't understand. He washed their feet anyway. He told them, "You don't know now . . . but you will." He wanted them to trust Him, to submit to His loving action, to remember it, to ponder it, and promised that they would understand later.

What is Jesus doing in your life that you don't understand? This Lent, He has been pruning my heart in all kinds of ways that hurt and don't exactly make sense (being sick while pregnant and homeschooling? Talk about God rearranging my priorities.), but I trust Him that in time, I will understand the path He has chosen for me. It may not be as soon as we celebrate Easter, may not be this year, or even in the next ten. In fact, I am pretty sure that most of the things God designed for my life won't be made clear until after I die and join Him in Heaven, when He shows me how each day, each trial, each joy led me closer to Him.

That is the goal, anyway, to have lived these trials and joys and moments such that I have lived them with trust in God's promise of salvation—won through His Son's death and Resurrection. I have hope that at the end of a life lived with trust, I will one day join Him at the eternal banquet. So when I am confused about why God allows something in my life, I probably will keep asking, "What?! Why?!" Like Peter, I do not yet know . . . but I trust that one day, I will know.